#who is the escape room enthusiast though?

[princesscait26]

A Unlikely Friendship: 2

Summary: The two rivals wives are caught (I’m really bad at summaries)

Alastor x reader, Vox x unnamed wife, Vox’s wife x reader Platonic!

Part 1

At the Hazbin Hotel, Y/n sat at her vanity, meticulously getting ready for the day. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the vanity bulbs. She was applying her lipstick when she noticed a familiar shadow in the mirror's reflection. Without turning, she spoke with a slight smile curving her now red lips, “I know you’re here.”

The shadow shifted, and in its place stood the Radio Demon himself. Alastor’s crimson eyes and broad smile fixed on his wife with a blend of curiosity and suspicion. “Where are you going today, my darling? It’s still only the morning,” he inquired, his tone deceptively casual.

Alastor was known throughout Hell for his malevolence, but in the presence of his wife, he was softened, almost vulnerable. Her absence left him feeling incomplete, a sensation he loathed.

Y/n turned, meeting his intense gaze with practiced ease. Avoiding his question, she picked up her purse and leaned in to plant a light kiss on his cheek. “I’m going out. I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t forget you have a meeting with Charlie today, dear!”

Before Alastor could react, she slipped past him, the reminder of his meeting momentarily distracting him. She made her way to the door, her heart pounding as she sensed his gaze burning into her back.

The moment the door clicked shut, Alastor’s smile twitched, replaced by a look of steely determination. His possessiveness gnawed at him. Where was his wife off to, and what was she doing? His mind raced with possibilities, none of which he liked.

He could not simply let it go. Summoning his shadow, he issued a silent command. "Follow her. Report back to me."

As Y/n exited the hotel and stepped into the bustling streets of Hell, she felt a chill, a whisper of unease that she couldn't quite shake. She knew Alastor's nature all too well, knew he wouldn’t take her abrupt departure lightly. Yet, she couldn’t let him control every aspect of her life.

Back at the hotel, Alastor paced his room, the meeting with Charlie all but forgotten. His thoughts were consumed by his wife’s mysterious outings. Though he trusted her, his darker instincts drove him to ensure her safety and loyalty.

———————————————————————

Y/n was blissfully unaware of Alastor's shadow trailing her as she made her way to the café. Believing she had successfully slipped away, she pushed open the door and was immediately enveloped by the comforting aroma of coffee and pastries. The gentle hum of conversation filled the air.

“Y/n!” a familiar voice called out. She turned to see Vox's wife, waving enthusiastically from a corner table. Y/n smiled and waved back, weaving her way through the tables to join her friend.

"I ordered your usual," she said with a warm smile as Y/n sat down. "Late again, I see. Did Alastor give you a hard time leaving?" She laughed, the sound bright and infectious.

Y/n giggled, sharing in the inside joke that both women held—how their husbands never made it easy for them to leave. "You know him too well," she replied with a chuckle. "It’s like trying to escape a shadow."

Vox’s wife’s eyes twinkled. "Well, we manage. It’s nice having these moments to ourselves."

Y/n sighed contentedly, her expression softening. "I enjoy your company so much. It’s rare to find someone who truly understands. You’re a great friend."

"You're too sweet," Vox’s wife replied, her smile widening. "If only our husbands knew how much they actually had in common."

The two women laughed, their voices mingling with the ambient sounds of the café. They reveled in their shared moments, finding solace and camaraderie in each other's presence.

Unbeknownst to them, Alastor's shadow had witnessed the entire encounter. It slipped away, returning swiftly to its master. Alastor listened intently to the shadow's report, his expression shifting from curiosity to shock, then to anger. How dare his wife meet with Vox’s wife, of all people!

On the other side of the city, Vox had grown suspicious as well and decided to follow his wife. When he arrived at the café, he was surprised and annoyed to see Alastor approaching from the opposite direction. Their eyes locked, and both men bristled at the sight of the other.

"What are you doing here?" Vox demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Alastor sneered. "I might ask you the same thing. I have every right to be here."

"As do I," Vox retorted, stepping closer. "However, it seems we have a more pressing matter at hand."

Their attention turned toward the café’s interior, where Y/n and Vox’s wife were laughing and chatting, oblivious to the storm brewing outside.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Alastor's tone is dripping with amusement, but his eyes betray a flicker of something darker. He stands at the entrance, his silhouette casting an imposing shadow over their table. Next to him, Vox's eyes blaze with barely contained rage, his screen flickering.

The café falls silent, the patrons' eyes darting between the two imposing figures and the women. Y/n's heart skips a beat as she locks eyes with Alastor, his usually warm gaze to her now cold and penetrating.

"Alastor," Y/n starts, attempting to keep her voice steady, "This isn't what it looks like."

Vox's wife stands up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Vox, I—"

But Vox cuts her off, his voice low and seething. "You think I wouldn't find out? That you could hide this from me?" His words hang heavily in the air, his fists clenching at his sides.

Alastor steps closer, his smile never wavering but his eyes darkening. "My dear, I am not so easily deceived. And to think, you two have been meeting behind our backs. It seems our rivalry has taken a rather... unexpected turn."

Y/n can see the hurt beneath Alastor's facade. Despite his charm and confidence, there is a sting of betrayal in his eyes. She takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Alastor, we just wanted a break from the constant fighting. It was never meant to hurt you two. To be with someone who understands."

Vox's wife nods in agreement, her eyes pleading with her husband. "Vox, please understand. We needed to escape the endless cycle of your battles. We needed each other."

But Vox, his pride wounded, steps forward towards the two women, his voice cold. "You think I care about your excuses? This betrayal is unacceptable. You think sneaking behind our backs was a good solution" He glares at Alastor, as if blaming him for this newfound alliance between their wives.

Alastor, ever the performer, turns his attention back to Y/n, putting a hand up stopping Vox from getting closer to Y/n. His smile returning but now tinged with bitterness. "It seems we have more in common than we thought, Vox. Betrayed by those closest to us."

Vox scoffs, his gaze never leaving his wife. "Don't lump me in with you, Alastor. This changes nothing between us. If anything, it intensifies our rivalry."

Y/n steps forward, her voice firm. "Enough. Both of you. This isn't about your rivalry. It's about us, your wives, who have had enough of your childish antics. We wanted peace, but it seems that's too much to ask for."

Vox's wife joins her, her voice soft but determined. "We love you both, but we can't keep living like this. It’s exhausting. All of your time goes to your fight with him, Vox. Something has to change."

The tension in the café is palpable, the silence deafening as Alastor and Vox process their wives' words. Finally, Alastor speaks, his voice softer but still edged with frustration. "Perhaps we do need to reassess our priorities."

Vox, his anger simmering down to a low boil, nods in agreement. "For once, I agree with Alastor. This isn't over, but maybe it's a wake-up call."

Alastor's eyes flicked to Vox, surprise flickering across his face. "You're suggesting we... call a truce?"

"Temporary," Vox clarified, his tone grudging. "For the sake of our marriages."

Alastor considered this, then nodded slowly. "Agreed. Temporary."

Relief washed over Y/n and Vox’s wife as the tension in the air finally began to ease. The initial shock and anger on Alastor and Vox's faces had subsided into something more manageable, though still simmering beneath the surface.

Alastor, ever the gentleman, extended a hand to Y/n. “Come, my dear,” he said softly, though his eyes still held a hint of possessiveness. “Let’s return home. We have much to discuss.”

Y/n took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Of course, darling,” she replied, casting a reassuring smile over her shoulder at Vox’s wife.

Vox, meanwhile, wrapped a protective arm around his wife’s shoulders. “We’re leaving,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “We need to talk as well.”

She nodded, leaning into him slightly. “Alright, Vox,” she murmured, her eyes meeting Y/n’s with a mixture of amusement and solidarity.

As the two couples moved in opposite directions, the two women turned back to each other, sharing a silent understanding. Their eyes met, and both broke into large, conspiratorial smiles. They waved goodbye, their hands lingering in the air as long as they could see each other.

“Until next time,” Y/n mouthed, her smile warm and genuine.

“Definitely,” she mouthed back, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The café doors closed behind them, separating the two women physically but not in spirit. As Alastor and Vox led their wives away, the men’s grips firm yet gentle, the women’s thoughts lingered on their cherished friendship, silently vowing that this unexpected encounter wouldn’t be their last.

In the bustling streets of Hell, amidst the chaos and constant noise, two friendships stood resilient, bound by shared experiences and a mutual understanding of the complicated men they loved. For now, at least, the truce was a step toward peace—a fragile, tentative step, but a step nonetheless.

———————————————————————-

Taglist

@that-dumb-bitch

@alastorthirsty

@generalthirsty

[alasarys]

Which McLaren driver are you?

McLaren in their uquiz era

[talkdutchtome]

Do you know this tiktok trend where girls tell guys about paying at the mechanic's for premium air for their cars 😭 could you write a fic where y/n does that prank to Max?

"Premium Air?" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . fluff )

wc . . . 825 words )

read my other work . . . here )

request something . . . here )

“Oh Maxy, I was supposed to mention, I took your car to be serviced. I know you’ve been so busy lately I thought I’d do that and give you one less thing to worry about” You said to your boyfriend, trying your hardest to suppress any giggles that wanted to escape. Your phone sat propped up on the bookshelf, strategically hidden so Max didn't notice.  

You had been seeing so many videos on TikTok where girls would prank their boyfriends or husbands by convincing them that they had bought “premium air” for the tires of their cars; and you decided that since so much of Max’s life revolved around cars, it would be the perfect way to prank him. 

“Oh, thank you very much baby, that’s kind of you, everything okay with it?” he said, never lifting his head up from his phone. 

“You’re welcome, yeah everything was okay they just said something about low tire pressure or something? I don’t really remember but I sorted it.” You said, fighting the mischievous grin that is trying to take its place on your face. At your words Max finally lifts his head up and looked at you, his brows furrowed. 

“Really are you sure? They seemed to be fine last time I drove it” his voice has a hint of concern lacing though it, clearly unsure where this is leading.  

“I’m not sure, that’s what the man said anyway. But I got it sorted. I even sprung for the premium air for you!” Your excitement was clear and the second the words left your lips, Max put his phone down, his full attention now on you. Confusion was etched on his face, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed tightly in a fine line.  

“Premium air?” he questioned 

You nod enthusiastically, maintaining your poker face. "Yeah! It's the latest thing. It makes your car run smoother, improves fuel efficiency, and who knows, maybe it even adds a few extra horsepower."  

Max looks at you like you’ve got two heads and you come so close to ruining the whole prank and bursting out laughing.  

“Premium air?” he asked again, like he couldn’t find any other words to respond to your ridiculousness. “How much did this premium air cost you?” he asked with a bemused smile, that smile however, dropped as soon as you answered his question. 

“Oh, it was a steal! Like €150 a tire.”  

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "€150 per tire? Are you serious Y/N? There's no such thing as premium air!" 

You feign innocence, "Oh, come on, Maxy, it's a special service they offered. You can't put a price on a smooth ride” Max sighs, a mix of frustration and amusement on his face.  

"Baby, I think you’ve been scammed. There's no such thing as premium air. Next time, let me know before you spend money on something like this." 

You play dumb, widening your eyes in mock surprise. "Scammed? But how could I buy it if it doesn't exist?" 

Max laughs, shaking his head. "You're too precious. Next time, let me come with you to the garage, okay? I'll make sure you don't fall for any tricks." 

You're left feeling a bit confused. Most of the prank videos you’ve seen end with frustration or annoyance, but Max seems more amused than anything else. 

As you sit there, still feeling a bit bewildered by Max's surprisingly lighthearted reaction, you gather the courage to ask him the burning question. "Hey, Max," you begin cautiously, "why aren't you mad at me?" 

He looks at you with genuine confusion. "Mad? What do you mean?" 

You take a deep breath and decide it's time to come clean. "The whole premium air thing—it was a prank," you admit, pointing discreetly at the camera you had strategically placed in the room to capture his reaction. 

Max's eyes widen in realization, and he breaks into a hearty laugh. "You got me!" he exclaims, playfully pushing you. 

You can't help but smile at his reaction, relieved that he found it amusing. "Seriously, though, why aren't you mad? Everyone else in those prank videos gets upset." 

Max wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. "I didn't want to make you feel bad," he confesses. "You were just trying to do something nice for me, and I didn't want to ruin that by getting angry over a harmless mistake” You look up at him, touched by his understanding and kindness. "But I wasted money on something that doesn't exist. You could have been really mad." He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Money comes and goes, but you trying to make me happy means the world to me.” 

"I love you," you say, a mixture of gratitude and affection in your voice. 

Max smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too, baby. Just remember, next time you decide to prank me, I'll be one step ahead." 

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Nine - Late night scandals

♡♡♡

"What do you think Bridgerton?"

Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.

"This one more to your liking?"

"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.

"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."

"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.

"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.

Henry points to the next one.

"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.

Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"

"My..."

"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"

"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"

"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"

Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"

Mr Granville leaves.

Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.

He sighs and closes the sketchbook.

♡♡♡

As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.

You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.

Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.

"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.

"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.

"He certainly was."

"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.

That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.

"You too?"

You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.

"Anthony invited me," you admit.

Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.

"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.

"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.

"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.

"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."

Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.

You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.

Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.

"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.

"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.

She stops playing. "So soon?"

"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.

"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."

You look at Daphne quietly.

"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.

"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."

"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.

"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.

Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.

♡♡♡

When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.

Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.

The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.

You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.

The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.

"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.

"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."

"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.

Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.

There is nothing you could ever say to her.

You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.

"May I have this dance?"

You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.

"You may."

You go with him to dance.

It seemed Benedict wasn't here.

♡♡♡

Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.

He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.

"Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.

"Come in, come in."

Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.

"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.

"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."

Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.

"What do you think?" Henry asks.

Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.

"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."

"I shall take that a compliment."

They both chuckle.

"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.

"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."

They both chuckle again.

"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.

Benedict picks an easel and sits down.

♡♡♡

As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.

You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.

You continue dancing with your partner.

Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.

When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.

"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.

He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.

"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.

Violet downs a third glass of champagne.

"She is persistent," you say.

"Hm?"

"Your mother."

Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."

"The opera singer..."

He looks at you.

"Nevermind. Its not my business."

Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."

"Yes. I assumed as much."

Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.

You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.

"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.

"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"

"I just noticed his absence."

"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.

You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"

He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."

Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."

As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.

At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.

As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.

You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.

The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.

Anthony bows, and you curtsy.

"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.

You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.

The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.

When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.

He heads outside. You follow.

"Anthony?"

He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."

"What's the matter? What's happening?"

"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.

"Who?"

"The duke."

"He is here?"

"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.

You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.

What you find is not what you ever expected to see.

Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.

Anthony runs at Simon.

"Bastard!"

Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.

"Daphne..."

She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.

"You will marry her," Anthony declares.

"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.

"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"

Anthony is angry.

"Brother!"

"I cannot marry her," Simon says.

"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."

"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.

Daphne looks hurt.

"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."

"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.

"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."

"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."

"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"

You look at Simon quietly.

"I am truly sorry."

"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.

You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.

Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.

You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.

Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.

Anthony and Daphne leave.

Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.

Neither do you.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

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@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

[daintcas]

lady killers ˗ˏˋ rafe cameron !

"man i'm a lady killer, if i want her i'mma steal her" / g-eazy

pairing. dealer!rafe cameron x innocent(ish)!reader

summary. his constant cycle of partying with privilege grants him anything he wants, until you show up to break the pattern.

contains. alcohol and drug use, tension, sexually suggestive, implied age gap, cliffhanger

the lifestyle comes with its perks, constantly surrounded by pretty girls who were more than willing to follow him upstairs. direct access to any substance he wanted, displayed messily across the polished coffee table at all times. not to mention the adrenaline-boosting boom of a surrounding party in some kid's ridiculously expensive house - thrown almost nightly.

it became a normality for him, whether or not he realized how unhealthy his habits may be. blinded by the attention, money, and already through-the-roof addition of popularity, the boy let himself be overcome by it all. but hey, isn't this how you're supposed to live life after graduation?

you, on the other hand, were never overly thrilled at the idea of occupying your time with what seemed to be an endless string of these things. that being said, it wasn't an unfamiliar scene after having wasted a couple of saturdays with friends before.

you also weren't one to deny the opportunity for a good night. which is why you didn't put up much of a fight when none other than sarah cameron insisted on your presence at a party she was hosting in her family's mansion.

she was friendly enough, but not to the extent of being by your side for the duration of the whole night because of an invite most likely given out to everyone in her contacts - that part had you a bit nervous. the idea of being stranded in a room full of highly intoxicated kids you hardly knew.

all precautions were eventually thrown out the window when you found yourself getting all dolled up in the bathroom mirror. mascara turning out perfect over a flawless base, hair down and flowing neatly, a strapless pale pink sundress you'd bought with sarah weeks ago tying it all together.

with one final application of lipgloss over expertly lined lips and a brief pose checking your reflection, you were headed out. fresh acrylics plucking your keys from the household bowl and looking down at your phone to check the time just as it rings, stopping your hand from unlocking the front door.

a sigh escapes you as you juggle everything in your hands to bring the device to your ear after blindly swiping to answer. a loud shout of your name has you flinching and furrowing your brows in confusion - and maybe annoyance. "yeah? hello?"

"c'mon, i'm outside!" a girl all but yells and it isn't until you hear a sweet, enthusiastic laugh that you recognize the voice.

"sarah?" you ask, though already having discarded the keys and slipped on your shoes lying ready by the doormat.

"let's go! i've got a party to entertain," the words are followed by the muffled sound of her shifting around, and you take it as your grace period to get outside before she takes off.

throwing open the door and hurrying down the steps of the front porch, you can't help but smile at the girl sitting in the driver's seat of a black jeep. beaming over at you, she hangs up the phone and ushers you over to the otherwise vacant car with a flailing hand.

the trip to tannyhill is filled with wide smiles and giggles over speakers blaring iconic summer songs. windows rolled down to take in an orangey-pink sky from the setting sun - which almost distracts from how sharp sarah takes what seems to be every turn in town.

the suv eventually comes to a stop after sliding down into the basement garage that screams wealth, right past all the cars lined up along the street. sarah hops out and offers a toothy grin while tossing her sunglasses in the center console.

"i'm so happy you're finally at one of my parties," she says while taking your hand and eagerly leading the way upstairs, her own dress swaying as she walks.

"me too," is all you offer in response, too entranced by the new level of rich that surrounds you while following blindly.

the mansion feels more like a maze as sarah leads you down and around hallways not yet crowded with partygoers. but, the blasting of music that vibrates the house says otherwise.

moonlight quickly replaces the sunshine, making visibility near impossible as you enter where the mass of everyone is. still hand in hand with sarah, you take the chance to look around.

between all the groups in the kitchen and on a makeshift dance floor, it's someone sitting among a circle of couches and chairs that has you doing a double take. turning back the second time is when you recognize the boy with his eyes still glued on you, wiping under his nose, to be rafe.

you don't miss the lazy smirk he shoots before sarah tugs you back to reality, finally dropping your hand and turning to stand face-to-face with the same excited smile.

"you'll be fine if i go say hi to a few people?" she asks, glancing across your face to genuinely gauge your feelings.

"'course. thanks, sarah," you answer convincingly enough that she's scurrying off to talk with whoever awaits her presence.

the best option you conclude is to go straight for the drinks. a quick scan of the counter and you're grabbing a red solo cup to fill with the first bottle you can get your hands on.

"better take slow sips of that," a voice behind you says, low and close enough to know it's you they're addressing. startled, you turn around, only to be face to face with rafe cameron. he must notice the way you tilt your head up with wide eyes, because he takes the opportunity to eye you up and step closer.

"you friends with sarah?" he asks as you set down the bottle of alcohol on the counter behind you, nodding casually - even with the way he's watching your every move so intently.

"mhm," you muster up, naturally a bit nervous standing under the mercy of 'kook prince' himself.

"yeahhh.." he draws out while taking a greedy eyeful of your whole being, tongue pressed to his cheek and making no effort to hide his arrogant smirk. there's a pause before he's nodding back towards the lounge he was previously sat without taking his eyes off you - your body. "y'wanna come with me and try the good shit?"

you look down at your cup when he taps it, swishing the cheap liquid while thinking over his offer. it doesn't take long before you're looking back up with a hesitant shake of your head and a small smile, murmuring, "don't think so.. not really my thing."

he tsks and shakes his head, taking it upon himself to ease the cup from your hand and positioning himself closer. he tilts his head to purposefully look down on you and get in your face, a smirk still present as he speaks lowly, "aww, c'mon. i'll keep you safe."

a nervous laugh and involuntary flush of your cheeks has you unable to refuse. rubbing your lip with a shy nod - admittedly not the most well-thought-out decision - and he's got a hand on your lower back to guide you, following close enough behind to allow his eyes to flicker subtly below your dress.

you approach the collection of seats, wary but not completely oblivious. rafe sits you down on a loveseat, hand moving to wrap around your waist and pull you to his side. the attention from this boy blurs the scene around you, rolled bills on the table, and various baggies with a particular white substance.

"so, um, what's the.. 'good' stuff?" you ask tentatively, looking up at him and shifting in the seat.

"'s all right here, baby," his grin is almost malicious and his eyes shamelessly drop to your lips. removing the arm around you, he spreads his legs and lifts his hips to fish for something in his back pocket.

you take the opportunity to look around at his company and it's no surprise to find topper and kelce among other random guys - even a couple girls who admittedly look a bit older than you and sarah. before processing the thought, you're looking to rafe for reassurance.

he, however, is focused intently on setting up a line of powder on your side of the table with a sharp black card. he sits back with a satisfied grin and looks over at you. "first one's free."

you stare up at him with big, cautious eyes for a moment before turning to the intimidatingly thick string of white.

he chuckles and uses a finger to smudge the neat line, collecting a less daunting amount on the digit. a nod of his head signals he wants you closer, so you do, positioning your body to face him.

snaking a hand to hold firmly behind your neck, he tilts your head back only slightly and prepares to bring his finger to your nose. a raise of his brow asks for permission and you nod.

the substance shoots through you unexpectedly quick which has you screwing your eyes shut and wincing. the reaction only amuses rafe and he moves the arm around your shoulder and tugs you into him once again.

finding solace in the embrace, you allow yourself to sink into his chest - an unsafe level of vulnerability. everything is loud, the booming of music and people feeling increasingly suffocating.

rafe laughs again, smirking in a way that now seems taunting. he takes a good look at you before leaning in to let his warm breath brush against your ear. "y'know, you're real pretty."

that's when you really think about what's happening right now. laying against rafe cameron - who for one reason or another seems to have taken a liking to you. the drug pumping through you and butterflies in your stomach has your heart beating with excitement.

it also has you fluttering your lashes up at rafe with a dopey smile, telling him all he needs to know. all it took was a dot of coke and he's got you right where he wants you.

"why don't you let me take you upstairs?" he presses in a way that shows the line has worked a million times before.

but who are you to turn him down? there's no denying how tempting he is and your attraction towards him. but instead, you shrug and look around in search of sarah.

it takes a minute before you catch her eyes and are met with a concerned yet angry expression. she's quickly by your side and pulling you up from the couch, glaring down at her brother.

"leave my friends alone, rafe." with that, sarah is tugging you away and back through the crowd. your hazy state makes it hard to resist, but you manage to look back at the boy on the couch. he's sitting back, clearly amused but not deterred.

a wink is all he gives before paying his attention back to his friends, leaving you to wonder what all of this meant.

one thing about rafe, though, is when he sets his sights on something - someone - he gets what he wants. he knows he will, and you're no exception.

[ghouljams]

Observation and Experiment Logs pertaining to SCP-141-b, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick.

Experiment Log 13, SCP-141-b transcribed from video recording:

(SCP-141-b sits across from ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ in standard issue interview room. SCP-141-b seems to be at ease and unbothered by the situation, he leans comfortably against the arm of his chair. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ has been instructed to conduct a conversational interview, and is a c-class civilian assistant in the memetic anomalies department, chosen for her looks and extroverted nature. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ has not been briefed on SCP-141-b's memetic abilities. Experiment log is recorded on standard ⬛️⬛️⬛️ video camera.

⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ has been given a short question list. Experiment is to gauge SCP-141-b's willingness to accept and encourage memetic agent.)

(interview start 00:00 >>)

⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Please state your name for the recording. SCP-141-b: Sergeant Kyle Garrick. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Do you know what this interview is for? SCP-141-b: The other one said it's some sort of test? ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Something like that. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Would you please state for the recording if we have any previous relationship, or if we have met in the past? SCP-141-b: No relationship and I've never met you. Think I would've remembered if I had. You're a pretty bird aren't you? Sort that knows it's pretty. Wonder if you taste as good as you look. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I wouldn't know.

(skip 10:35 >>)

(⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ seems to have relaxed into her seat, SCP-141-b smiles at her as she speaks enthusiastically)

⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: -and then again in Brittney ⬛️⬛️'s car. I can't believe you don't remember that! SCP-141-b: Sorry love, must have hit my head one two many times. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: You always say that. (⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ can be seen rolling her eyes) ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I think you're just pulling my leg. SCP-141-b: Wish I was, got great legs. (⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ giggles)

(skip 32:43 >>)

(⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ has placed herself on SCP-141-b's lap, his arms are settled comfortably around her waist. SCP-141-b seems at ease, he makes no move to remove ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ from her seat. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ appears to be at ease as well)

SCP-141-b: -to do, I got deployed. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I know, I know, but I missed you. I thought you might wait for me. SCP-141-b: Who says I didn't? SCP-141-b: Don't you remember? You met me at the airport. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I did. God maybe I'm the one hitting my head. I did meet you at the airport, you were fresh from your first deployment and I-

(skip 47:23 >>)

SCP-141-b: -something for me, you think you can do that doll? ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I think so. SCP-141-b: Good girl. SCP-141-b: I need you to-

(SCP-141-b cannot be heard speaking for several minutes, though ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ can be seen nodding her head in understanding. It is believed that SCP-141-b was giving ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ orders at the time to help facilitate his escape from the testing room. Tape ends 52:55 when ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ leaves SCP-141-b's lap and goes to the cell door to request permission to end the interview.)

---

Experiment Notes (13), SCP-141-b and ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ interview:

SCP-141-b seems aware of cognitohazardous anomaly and actively encourages it towards his own benefits. Observation of ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ during experiment reveals SCP-141-b is able to feed, or prompt, false memory generation. Full effects are seen after ~1 hour exposure to SCP-141-b. Individuals affected by SCP-141-b's memetic agent are designated as SCP-141-b*1. Exit interview with ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ is as follows:

Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Would you please state your name for the record. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Thank you, and would you explain your relationship to SCP-141-b in simple terms. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: He's an old friend, High School sweetheart, really. We tried to keep it going after graduation but life happened. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Doesn't it always. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: It was really great catching up with him, though. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: I see, and are you able to remember the start of your conversation with SCP-141-b at all? ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Sure. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: And would you please repeat the questions that we assigned you, along with the answers SCP-141-b provided? ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Uh, asked him his name: Kyle Garrick. Asked him if- Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Are you alright? ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Yeah sorry, I just got this awful pain in my head. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: You asked SCP-141-b if he knew you. Do you remember how he answered. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Yes, I- (⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ can be heard making pained noises) Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Noting for the record that ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ is holding her head, and experiencing headache like symptoms in line with previously observed phenomena around SCP-141-b. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Can you describe the pain for me? ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: It's like someone's scraping my brain with an ice pick. I feel like my eyes are about to pop out of my fucking head. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Thank you. Did SCP-141-b ask you to do anything for him before you left? ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Why do you keep calling him that? Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Please answer the question. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Maybe if you weren't keeping him locked up like an animal- Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: Please take your seat. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: He's a human being and you're keeping him prisoner here! Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️: You are under the effects of a memetic anomaly, you're not thinking clearly. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I'm thinking perfectly clearly you-

Post Experiment Interview cut short due to violent behavior from subject. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ attempted to subdue Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️ as well as two security personnel and was apprehended. Relegated to observation and further questioning. Unclear whether SCP-141-b's implanted memories will dissipate.

---

Site ⬛️⬛️ Memo to researchers in ⬛️⬛️ Memetic Anomalies Lab:

SCP-141-b is to be upgraded to level 2 cognitohazard.

Memo Addendum from ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ in ⬛️⬛️ Memetic Anomalies Lab:

SCP-141-b seems like a nice enough guy, I think my aunt knew his mom and he's never given us any trouble.

Memo from Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ Head of ⬛️⬛️ Memetic Anomalies Lab:

All staff who have interacted with SCP-141-b or been in contact with anyone who has interacted with SCP-141-b is to report to memetic decontamination immediately. All testing on SCP-141-b is to be halted immediately and until further notice. SCP-141-b is to be considered a hostile memetic agent. Do not engage.

---

Observation Log 27, SCP-141-b:

The more I look at this guy the more familiar he seems.

---

SCP-141-b is a level 3 memetic hazard and is considered cognitohazardous. Please report all memories or impressions of SCP-141-b to your supervisor. No further testing is to be done on SCP-141-b without permission from O5. Level 4 personnel only.

[yourdoorisunlocked]

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 1

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: This was originally supposed to be pretty dark, but my mind clearly had other plans since I ended up writing a fluffy little fic about our favorite radio man lmao. I’ll probably write up the angstier fic, too, if this one does well.

Also, the Reader is AFAB, since that’s what I’m comfortable writing for as a girl myself.

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐,𝟏𝟏𝟓 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

. . . 

The door to Alastor’s manor creaked open for you, and with a grin you took the spare key he gave you from the lock and swung the door fully open to push yourself inside in an attempt to escape from the late winter chill. 

It was a late January night, meaning the serene moonlight washed over the snowy landscape as early as 5:00 P.M., making it dangerous for a lady like yourself to be wandering the streets of New Orleans late at night. 

But it had been months since you really had to worry about anything like that, since you had Alastor by your side to look out for you. Such a sweetheart to you, and a bit of a mama’s boy, too, judging by the pictures set atop the mantle just above the unlit fireplace.

The mere thought of your ever-enthusiastic smiling companion made you especially giddy as you kicked off your winter boots and shrugged your coat off your shoulders, placing it upon the antler-adorned coat rack and skipping past the staircase into the living room. 

Flopping on the couch, you reached over for the radio while cuddling up with a blanket, excited to hear the well-awaited voice of the man who had altered the direction of your life – undoubtedly for the better – and you were practically kicking your feet like a flustered schoolgirl who had received your first confession as Alastor’s voice rang through the small device, loud and clear for you to hear. 

“Good evening, New Orleans!” You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiastic announcer’s voice that he normally used for his radio show, and the first time the two of you had met.

Though, Alastor was more relaxed around you nowadays, seeing no need to keep up the too-cheery facade his listeners had renowned and adored him for. You cherished moments when he was simply relaxed, content with a close-lipped smile and sitting beside you, whether it be reading, playing the piano with you, occasionally even pulling you into a spontaneous dance.

As you listened practically through the entire thing, you began to silently fantasize about your unpredictable yet darling radio host.

“Well, I’m afraid that’s all the time I have tonight, folks! I should be going, now. It's rather bad form to keep my doll waiting at home for me~,” He finished with a soft chuckle.

Blood rushed to your cheeks at that last little comment, practically cursing Alastor for his cheekiness, and he knew that you listened to his shows whenever you could.

"The au-diddly-dacity of that man..."

“Thank you for tuning in! See you next time~...” 

The radio returned to static for a few seconds, before a jaunty little tune began to play through the speakers, and it just so happened to be one of your personal favorites, one that you, no matter what mood, nor what you were doing, couldn't help but jump up and dance to.

And, of course, Alastor knew you loved it.

You sighed with content as you relaxed into his couch cushions, sinking into the blanket that Alastor had laid out for you since he'd found you constantly falling asleep to his voice on the radio when he returned home from work.

A pang of guilt thundered against your chest as your heart strained at the stinging reminder of how much of a burden you really were to Alastor. He was a good man, who helped you out when you were in a tough spot, you should at least repay the favor, right?

I should at least do something nice for him... He's been so good to me, even inviting me over for dinner more times than I can count.

He was the one who offered me that job at the radio station, hell, he even let me off early so I could listen to his show!

With a huff, and a newfound sense of energy, you got to work around the house, tidying up and lighting the fireplace, sparking a candle or two, and keeping the radio playing all throughout the thirty minutes you had spent cleaning, imagining the look on Alastor’s face when he returned.

You had even started on dinner, making a nice pot of venison soup, since it seemed to be his favorite. 

You pushed down the swell in your chest when you heard the doorbell ring, excitedly rushing over to a mirror and sweeping across your face and hair, making sure everything about you was in perfect shape. 

You opened the door, craning your neck a good amount to make eye contact with dark chocolate eyes staring down at you intently, almost illuminated in the moonlight, set against smooth caramel skin beneath a fluff of mocha brown hair.

“Hel-!” 

Alastor’s usual smile was smacked clean off his face at the sight of you standing before him, apron tied across your skirt with a few stains upon it, hair slightly amess but clearly put together.

"-Lo... My dear, what is the meaning of this?..." His tone seemed cheerful enough, if a bit bewildered as his eyes scanned your form once more, stopping upon the apron once again before returning his gaze to yours.

You looked so painfully, so heart throbbingly domestic that it nearly gave him a heart attack when he first opened the door. Such a submissive nature fed into other... primal desires of his that he wasn't fully prepared to delve into.

You smiled sheepishly up at him. "Why don't you come in? I've already started dinner," Alastor's trademark smile quirked his lips upward as he suddenly took your arm and headed inside, practically glowing as he headed straight for the kitchen.

"Oh, no, mister, you stay right there," you winked down at the radio host as you pulled him into a chair. "You've been working so late, let me handle dinner."

You truly piqued Alastor's interest when a familiar scent wafted past his nose, and he eyed you with surprise as you worked in the kitchen, pouring a hot, thick broth from the pot into a small bowl.

As you headed towards him, he tried his best not to absolutely melt in his seat as you served him with a smile, and he carefully took the steaming bowl from your hands. 

Venison, hm? Well don’t mind if I- 

AN: You know that one scene in Ratatouille where that critic takes a bite of his dish, and gets a flashback to when his mom used to cook for him? Imagine that but with Alastor. 

“Is it good?” Your soft, almost worried voice brought him back to reality, and as he met your hopeful, imploring gaze, Alastor nearly choked on his food as heat crept up to his cheeks, burning against his face and ears.

For just a moment, I thought I saw...

With wide eyes, you rushed over to him with a napkin, patting his back and looking over him with concern as his coughing ceased, and he took the cloth with a grateful, slightly wobbly smile. 

  “Was it really that bad...?” Your confidence wavered slightly as you stared down at Alastor, realizing the sudden proximity as electricity raced up your spine and lit your cheeks aflame.

Half-lidded cocoa-brown eyes searched the very depths of your soul, before he shook his head and murmured, "No, quite the opposite. I'm... I'm actually quite thankful for this, tonight." Though, it couldn't have come at a worse possible time, when he was finally squashing any sort of emotions he felt for you into the dirt, only for you to make them froth and rise to the surface yet again.

Why, he hadn't realized how long it had been since anyone had done anything like this for him!

Ah, his dear mama...

He recalled the last dish she ever made for him. Her house-famous Jambalaya that he had adored so much. It even managed to put his father in a good mood.

"A-Al? Alastor? Are you alright...?"

He hadn't even noticed that tears were streaming down his slim cheeks until he felt small droplets falling upon his lap.

"Oh, nothing. This... This all just reminded me of someone..." He shook his head and took his circle-rimmed glasses off his pointed nose, rubbing the fogginess off the glass as the gears turned in your head.

You raised an eyebrow. "Who...?" You then caught a glimpse of the photos set above fireplace just past the couch that faced away from the kitchen. Of course!

Immediate regret washed over you as you fretted over Alastor, apologizing meekly as you attempted to clean up the soup in front of him, but you were stopped as he gripped your wrist.

"I'm so sorry! I never meant to be such a burden, I just really wanted to do something nice for you, s-since you're always-"

"No, please, this has been a delightful surprise, darling." You froze at the pet name, heat creeping over your cheeks and tinging your ears a bright pink as Alastor released his grip upon your hand.

"You have never, never felt like a burden to me. I promise you that," he slid his hand from your wrist to your hand in an act of comfort, but it only served to make your face glow even redder.

"Now I'd like to finish the dinner you made for me. If you don't mind, of course," his usual cheekiness had returned when he spotted your slightly flustered face, and you nodded and returned to your seat promptly.

Alastor, being ever the chatterbox, resurrected the flowing conversation between you two for a good hour, as he recalled stories from his childhood, keeping you entertained throughout your dinner. Your laughter filled the hallway, your smile both wounding and freeing his heart, while you sat, mesmerized at his captivating storytelling and how he spoke with his hands, practically alight as he drank in each expression you gave him.

"Would you care for a dance, darling?" Alastor spoke up suddenly, the contents of his bowl completely gone as you eyed it. You shyly agreed as he smiled gently and pulled you into the living room.

Soft caramel brown hands wrapped around yours as Alastor's slender fingers held you close in a surprisingly tight grip against him, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest, along with his rapidly beating heart despite his suave demeanor as he slowly danced along with you to one of the songs that had begun playing on the radio beside the fireplace.

Nothing but your dear friend's soft humming along with the sounds of the radio filled the silence between you in the moment, and you began to relax in his grip as you lazily kept up with his slow steps.

Put your head on my shoulder~

A slow dance between you two, with an occasional twirl as Alastor nearly swept you off your feet swept the minutes away, until the moon was well past the horizon and twilight fell upon the sky.

As he spun you around once more, a sudden gust of air swept past the pair of you, nearly blowing out the candle beside you.

Hold me in your arms, baby...

Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of a petite, elderly woman standing beside the doorway into the kitchen, watching the two of you intently, until her form faded from the door with a shimmer of light and a gentle smile.

Squeeze me oh-so tight, show me...

He gulped softly at the sight of the angel while you stared into his eyes, completely fixated upon his surprised open-mouthed stare as his gaze flickered from behind you to your lips.

You barely missed his darkening expression as you both began to sway slowly once again.

Show me, that you love me, too~...

"Would you like to stay the night, darling?" For the first time in his life, Alastor seemed unsure, maybe even nervous, as his dark brows creased together and his charming smile twitched at the corners of his lips. You smiled and reached up to smooth out the crease with your fingers.

You had no idea how he warred with himself, knowing that he'd be practically signing his soul away simply to be in your company.

Put your lips next to mine, dear~...

But... Perhaps this would be worth it.

Perhaps moments like these, when time slowed, where you both could block out the rest of the world and simply bask in each other's company would be worth the risk.

Won't you kiss me once, baby~?

Alastor had decided, right then and there as you stared up at him with nothing but adoration.

He'd have you. He had to. He was damned either way, but he'd storm the pearly gates themselves if he failed to drag you down with him.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe...?

But, with immense relief, Alastor realized wouldn't take much persuasion as your eyes seemed to twinkle beside the flickering candlelight, and a gentle yet teasing smile played at your lips.

You and I will fall in love...

"Yes, I'd like that very much, Alastor."

. . . 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Okay, I KNOW that 'Put Your Head On My Shoulder' was released in the 50s, BUT LET'S PRETEND IT WAS THE 20s, OKAY???

Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this first post, I might write a part two if the people want one. Maybe Alastor headcanons?? Who knows...

Let's just see how far this goes lmao.

[makethatelevenrings]

Contaminated // D. Grayson x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. Minors get BACK. Go yearn for the mines awaY FROM HERE. Emotions! Sex pollen but it’s enthusiastic consent. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Three months ago, Dick Grayson told you he didn’t love you anymore and walked out the door. Tonight, you found yourself the unwitting victim of a Poison Ivy attack that forces Dick Grayson to end up on your doorstep once again. Will he help or will he leave once again?

Your hands shook as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Your skin prickled as the fabric of your hoodie scraped against the sensitive skin of your arms. A desperate whimper escaped your lips at the way your very cells seemed to burn with the strength of a thousand suns.

Somehow you got your mind straight long enough to lock the door behind you before you stumbled towards your bedroom. You kicked off your shoes as you went and your hoodie soon followed. Fuck, it wasn’t enough. Everything was hot but at the same time, you felt sweaty and chilled like you had a fever.

Something was wrong.

Grabbing your phone, you fought against the blurring of your vision in order to locate the contact you needed. You knew she would pick up the phone in seconds because she was glued to her tech everyday.

“What’s up, babes?” Barbara answered after the first ring. “If you’re calling to reschedule brunch, I have terrible news for you. I won’t allow you to skip out aga-”

“Babs,” you rasped. “Something’s wrong.”

The cheery tone fell from the redhead’s voice in seconds and you heard her start typing on her keyboard. “Where are you?”

“Home. I was walking home from work when Ivy attacked the park and I think I inhaled some of the spores. I don’t…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Barbara swore under her breath. “The closest person to you is Nightwing.”

Your heart dropped. No. Not him. “Who else?”

“Everyone else is busy. I’m sorry, but I’m sending him.”

Your stomach cramped painfully, nearly knocking you to your knees, and you let out a groan. “Okay, okay. Fuck it. Fine.”

“We’re going to help you. I promise. I have to go handle something right now, but I’ll make sure I check on you.”

“Thanks, Babs.” Your breath escaped you in short pants, like a dog in heat. Fuck, it was hot in here. You wanted nothing more than to strip off your pants and shirt and lay on the cool tile of your bathroom, but you couldn’t. Not when he was coming over.

Richard Grayson, your ex boyfriend. Richard Grayson, the man who came over one night three months ago and broke up with you on your doorstep. Richard Grayson, the man you had loved for years until your heart shattered with a few words.

“I don’t love you anymore,” he had said. And then he dropped a box of your things on the doorstep and walked out of your life.

Fuck Dick Grayson. Fuck Nightwing. Fuck him and his pretty boy smile. He could go to hell.

“Shit.” As if the mere thought of your ex triggered it, you were suddenly acutely aware of the seam of your pants pressing against the sensitive flesh of your cunt. Shit shit shit, you cannot be horny in front of Dick Grayson. You just needed to keep a level and calm head until he gave you the antidote and then you could send him out on his ass.

Another wave of shaking wracked through your body and you let out a hiss of pain, doubling over until your face met the soft fabric of your comforter. Your body joined you on the mattress and you pulled yourself up until your cheek rested on the cool rayon fabric of the pillow. Curling your knees up towards your chest, you let the shakes consume you and prayed that Dick wasn’t so over you that he refused to come.

As though he heard your thoughts, you heard the window to your living room slide open. The slight screech of the old rubber sides sounded faster than normal and you figured he just wanted to get this over with.

The window shut and footsteps pounded towards the door to your bedroom. Your teeth chattered violently as you shook with this hellish hot/cold state your body had been thrust into. The shaking made it hard for you to lift your head, but you were able to make eye contact with the last man you wanted to see.

“Fuck,” Dick said in greeting. “Babs said Ivy got you, but she didn’t say it was this bad.”

You willed your jaw to stop rattling and shrugged. “Ran home so I didn’t pass out on the sidewalk or something.”

He stripped off his glove and pressed the back of his hand against your cheek. Shit. Oh fuck. Just the feel of his skin against yours was euphoric. A small mewl escaped you and your back arched in some desperate attempt to get closer to him. Dick ripped his hand away, a panicked look flitting across his masked face.

“Damnit Ivy,” he snarled.

“Am I dying?” It certainly felt like it. Your skin prickled painfully at the loss of contact and you tried to hold back the burn of tears that grew in your eyes.

“No, you’re not dying.” His hand drifted up to his ear where you knew a comms device rested. “Ivy hit her with sex pollen.”

A startled, albeit bitter, laugh escaped you and you shook your head. Of fucking course. Sex pollen meant you would have to wait for the antidote and get progressively hornier and in more pain. Or you could get off…

On autopilot, your hand drifted down to the waistband of your pants but the small part of your brain still in control screamed at you to stop. Tearing your hand away, you inhaled deeply and pressed your face further into the pillow. Not when he’s here.

“Just go get the antidote and I’ll suffer for a bit,” you snapped.

Dick barked out a sardonic laugh. “Do you really think I’m going to leave you like this?” Oh, the irony. If you weren’t burning up, you would laugh in his face and tell him to get the fuck out. All you could manage was glaring at him from your fetal position.

“I thought leaving was your specialty,” you hissed, venom lacing your tone. Your barb made a direct hit because his trained impassive face crumpled for a brief second. The cool drag of a tear along your cheek made you aware of the rising heat in your face and you brushed the tear away.

“Fuck you Richard Grayson. I know you don’t want to be here so you can go. I’ll just wait until someone can bring me the antidote.”

“You’re in pain,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, well, as if you care. I’ll just call Wally or Kaldur. Hell, I’ll call up Jason. I’m sure he won’t mind helping.”

“Stop,” he growled. “You won’t call anyone. I’m here. I’ll help you.”

Despite the aching weakness in your bones, you pushed up off the mattress so you could face him fully. Your arms trembled with exertion, but somehow you held yourself up.

“You left me. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me or whatever, but you left me and so you don’t have a right to be concerned. So do what you do best, Dick, and leave.” You were impressed by the way your voice stayed firm despite the tears streaming down your face. You were bracing yourself to see him walk out once more, leaving you in pain, both emotional and physical this time.

He turned away, showing you the kevlar spandex weave of his suit on full display. Just a few more steps and he would be out the window and out of your life again. Your breath caught in your throat, the pain surging through your veins. You whimpered and started to slowly lower yourself back down, but two strong hands settled on your shoulder and waist. Dick curled himself around you as if he could protect you from the fire licking at your insides. You shuddered at the firm pressure of his hands on you and in the moment of clarity, raised your chin to meet his gaze.

He had taken the mask off.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

His head lowered and he inhaled deeply before speaking once more. “I can’t, baby. You’re not thinking straight.”

Clasping your hands against his cheeks, you drew his head up and leveled him with a look. “Please, Dick. Make the pain go away.”

You had missed the taste of him. Dick’s hands drifted down to your hips as he slotted his lips against yours and pushed you back to lay against the bed. A gasp escaped you and he swallowed it with his tongue that pushed into your mouth. Everything was happening so quickly that it made your head spin in the best way possible. You shuddered as he unbuttoned your pants and slipped his long fingers under the band of your underwear.

“Oh,” you moaned as he brushed the rough pad of his finger along your slit. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat before nipping at the soft skin of your jaw. Your legs closed instinctively as the toxin mixed with instinctive lust surged through your veins. Dick tutted and tugged at the hem of your shirt. You let him remove it and then he made quick work of your pants and underwear.

And then he stood up, unzipped his suit, and revealed the body you had dreamed about for nights.

Dick wasted no time in scooping you up and settling you between his legs, your back against his chest. One of his hands tugged your knee, pulling your legs apart, as the other drifted down to your soaked pussy.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he purred as you sagged against his chest. Dick nuzzled his nose against your temple as his fingers rubbed in lazy circles over your swollen cunt. Anytime your hips shifted, he made sure to keep you steadily locked in his hold.

“That feel good, baby?” he breathed. You nodded, too blissed out to speak, and he grinned that cocky smile you missed so much. Dick tipped your chin back and pulled you in for a filthy kiss, his tongue searching your mouth and leaving the lingering taste of his peppermint gum on your lips.

Your orgasm rocked through you faster than you expected thanks to the pollen flooding your veins. Legs trembling, you shook and thrashed against Dick as your cunt clenched around empty air. Dick held you tightly against him and continued his ministrations until you were whining about how it was-

“Too much. Ah! Dick, too much.”

“You’re still burning up, baby,” he murmured.

“I need your cock. I need you to fuck me again. I missed the feel of you in me, Dick.”

His tongue trailed along the sweaty line of your neck and your back arched off of his chest as he left along a cool trail. His slick soaked fingers drifted up to rub and pinch your nipples, alternating between both with equal devotion.

“Did you fuck anyone else?” he panted. “Tell me, baby. Did another man make you feel as good as I do?”

“No!” You needed him to fill you. You would combust if his long cock didn’t enter you in the next five seconds. You struggled against his grip in an attempt to flip yourself over and ride him, but Dick was too strong.

“No,” you gasped. “I touched myself and thought of you. No other man could satisfy me.”

As though you were a delicate package, he cradled your head as he slid you down onto the mattress and slotted himself between your spread thighs.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess.”

Any retort left you as your mouth dropped open. Three months without him had made you forget how fully he consumed you. Your folds parted as he split you open with his shaft, whimpers and pants escaping him as he slowly and surely slid into your waiting body. He hefted your legs up and you wrapped them around his waist as he finally bottomed out.

“I missed you,” he murmured.

You, your traitorous mind echoed. Not this. You.

No. This was just his way of helping you.

A throaty groan tore past your lips as he pulled out, the veins of his cock dragging against your walls, and then pushed back in. Your eyes rolled back as he brushed against your g-spot. He was more than just his name, not by much. Dick Grayson laid pipe like he was a union plumber going on forty-five years.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Grayson.”

He yanked his hips back and drilled into your cunt. You clawed at his back as he started to jackhammer into you. The fever was slowly abating as your second orgasm built. You lifted your hands to play with your own tits but he batted them away. Dick ducked his head down and enveloped your right nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking at the soft skin there. The constant stimulation adding to the electricity surging through your veins and you threw your head back. Dick let go of your breast with a soft pop and he stroked your cheek, dragging your attention back to him.

“Look at that, princess. Look at how well you take me,” he said. You nodded dumbly at his words and he forced your head up. Your gaze fixed on the way his cock slid in and out of you and, coupled with the feeling of him inside of you, had your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

“That’s it. There’s my good girl. You were made to take me. I missed fucking this pretty pussy. I. missed. you.” He punctuated the last three words with deep thrusts before he pulled out and let his cum streak along your tits. Dick’s chest heaved with exertion but he reached up and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead and then to your cheeks.

“How…how is it?” you asked.

He scooted back a bit and leaned forward so he was bracketing your hips. “You like doggy style, right?”

A pounding headache and a dry mouth was your morning gift. The warmth of the sun touched your cheeks gently and you relaxed when you realized you were no longer sweating buckets and burning up.

But a heavy, warm presence was still in your bed.

You slowly turned over to face Dick who was already awake. He reached up and checked your temperature again before offering you a wry smile. “Fever broke. You passed out around orgasm number six. I got you some water and snacks and you’ll need to take a shower. I can start the laundry once you’re in the shower. I’ll wait to leave until you’re feeling alright. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

Your heart ached at the tenderness of his words. This was the man who practically launched himself off the couch to get you a bandaid after you gave yourself a papercut while reading a book. This was the man who kept your favorite coffee and tea stocked at his place. This was the man who walked out on you and told you that he didn’t love you anymore.

“Dick…” Your soft voice stopped him from climbing out of the bed. He settled in next to you, the thin sheet pooling at his waist and revealing his well-muscled torso.

“I left because they put a hit on your head,” he said. Warm breath washed over your face and you shivered at the contact. His azure eyes searched your face before he continued.

“I couldn’t risk losing you. Permanently. I’ve buried too many people, baby, and I refuse to lose you until you’re old and gray.”

“No one knows I’m connected to Nightwing,” you whispered.

“No, but they know you were connected to Dick Grayson. There are a lot of people that aren’t happy about what I’ve been doing to help Bludhaven. I’ve made enemies and they knew exactly where to target.”

“But Nightwing stopped them, right?”

His full lips lifted at the corners, amused at your unfailing trust in him, and he nodded. “Destroyed their entire operation.”

“So there was no threat.”

His eyes softened and he reached up to touch your cheek. “Being with me puts you at risk. Always.”

“I never felt as safe as I did with you. Last night, you helped me because you would never let anything hurt me. Right? You’ll never let anyone hurt me.”

He moved in close and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips drifted down to lay a kiss to each eyelid, cheek, your nose, chin, and finally landing on your lips. This wasn’t the rushed, burning kisses from the night before.

This was soft and gentle and, underneath the veneer of sweetness, it was an apology.

“I’ll go get the shower started so it’s warm,” he murmured once he pulled away. “And I’ll cook breakfast while you’re getting clean.”

“And we’ll talk?”

He smiled. Not the fake media smile he perfected years ago. Not the confident, cocky grin he gave his teammates. It was the smile only you saw. The soft, tender curve of his lips as his vulnerability shone through.

“Yeah.” His fingers interlaced with yours. “We’ll talk.”

Tag List: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @bunny-kawa​ @khaylin27​

[blissfullsvn]

between the lines

pairing: academic rivals!taesan x reader genre: fluff word count: 1.3k warnings: reader is sick, reader calls taesan a prick, he is kinda a prick (but fluff triumphs all 🙏) a/n: it's necessary for their dynamic but no actual rivalry is emphasized here... (for my fellow academic rivals-to-lovers enthusiasts... ill cook up sth soon) masterlist

taesan is flustered.

you and taesan had never really had an amicable relationship. to put it into perspective, you'd rather spend hours editing the mess of a report your equally-messy groupmates wrote, than spend hours working together with han taesan—the student well-known for submitting flawless and only flawless pieces of work.

it wasn't always like this. of course it wasn't. who in their right mind would prefer to add 'babysitting adults' onto their plate that's already filled to the brim, instead of making their life easier by grouping with an academic weapon?

but working with han taesan is not for everyone.

actually, scratch that. working with han taesan is not for you.

you don't know what you did, but you're almost 100% sure he has a personal vendetta against you. for such a pretty face, his mouth only spits out the nastiest of things, at least to you.

actually, scratch that again. han taesan only does that to you.

because you shared all the core modules with him, you had foolishly decided to group up with him for all the assignments you had in your first semester of university. to put it simply, that was probably the worst decision you’d made in your life.

why? for every idea you gave, he'd step over with another. for every suggestion you offered, he'd pinpoint every aspect to shut it down. sure, he may have had better ideas, but you didn't think it was necessary to stomp at your input so readily. you definitely didn't think it was necessary to smirk like he'd won a battle after every instance.

you thought you'd be able to escape his belittling remarks and irritating smugness after that one semester, but why did he have to share the same plans as you as well? the day you stepped into the student council office and saw him sitting in the seat next to yours, you already felt dread clawing at you.

fast forward to the present, you're both running for student president for the next year. you had already lost the role of vice president to him this year, so you're determined to not let him pick at you again. not that he could even if he wanted to, because you practically transform into an iron shield whenever he enters your vision (which is more times than you'd liked, considering you share the same environment with him everywhere. he seems to enjoy this, though).

you've been preparing diligently for your student president pitch, but that's also on top of having 5 tight assignment deadlines and planning the biannual festival happening in the next month. for the past weeks, the student council office had turned into your place to work, eat, and even sleep, though the last was never intentional.

today, again, you're sitting at your desk, your laptop opened in front of you, but it’s unlike usual—a cup of hot-turned-lukewarm tea next to you, a pile of tissues scattered around the table, an oversized hoodie draped over your frame, your sniffles echoing across the empty room, and your body which felt heavier than usual.

you've tried your hardest fighting the urge to fall asleep, the dimness of the room not helping, but when the clock struck 3, you decide to give yourself mercy and lean forward, resting your head on your arms over the table. it's far from comfortable; your back is aching, your neck is sore, your nose is uncooperative, and the screech of the door is hurting your head.

you open your eyes briefly at the intruder by the door. they're frozen for a beat, as if surprised to see you there, then they’re tilting their head in what seems to be confusion. soon, they're taking small steps towards you. you should be alarmed, but your defenses have shut down from the fatigue, so all you can think is that if you die, you hope you die a climactic death.

the intruder, thankfully, does not appear to have any intent of killing you. they are, however, intent on disturbing you.

“y/n?” there's a soft tap on your shoulder. you squint, trying to decipher the blurry face in front of you before deciding against it. your act of protest comes out as a small whine that unintentionally escapes the back of your dry throat.

the figure stands there in shock, hand hovering your back. they blink a few times, as if trying to register what they just heard, before they decide to squat next to you, patting your shoulder again.

“y/n? don't sleep here.” the voice is familiar, but uncharacteristically soft. and fond. why is it fond?

you open your eyes again. seeing han taesan mere inches away from your face is something you'd never expect, but you're too tired to even be shocked. instead, you blink slowly, as if you're a newborn reacting to stimuli you've never experienced before.

“han taesan,” you mumble against your arm. your voice comes out nasally from your cold and as a result, more whiny than usual.

“y–yes?” he ignores the stutter and moves his hand to brush away the strands of hair covering your face. it comes so naturally that he freezes when he realises and quickly pulls his hand back to himself.

“prick.” you shut your eyes as you say this, missing the widening of his eyes. “annoying.”

he frowns, “i'm annoying?”

“very.” you don't miss a beat to reply. “why do i have to see you everywhere . . . .” you trail off, your voice decreasing in volume as you speak.

taesan is silent for a few moments, during which the only sounds that can be heard are the tick-tock of the clock and the whirs of the air conditioner. he takes one glance at your hoodie and the tissues around you before promptly turning off the AC.

“fine,” he huffs as he stands up. “i’ll be annoying for a bit more.” he taps your shoulder again. “go home. you can't sleep here. it's so late.”

the deprivation of sleep is getting to you, because your immediate response to him is to let out another whine that would immediately shatter your image of the cool senior and president-to-be if anyone heard you.

which, of course, brings us back to the first line.

taesan is flustered.

he's never seen you this… babyish before. ever since the first semester, all you would entertain him with were glares, furrowed eyebrows, and the occasional roll of your eyes if you were really salty. you had never been this defenseless around him, to which he feels something tug at his chest.

he stretches his lips into a line and squats down again. “what do you want me to do then?” his voice is soft. too soft. “i’m not letting you sleep overnight here.”

you slowly open your eyes, sniffling as you look at him in disbelief. “if you're not willing to carry me home, just go.” you shut your eyes again.

it's silent once again. at this, you dig your face deeper into your arms, having zero expectations. you furrow your eyebrows slightly when you hear shuffles above you, followed by the clash of stationeries, the crackle of the plastic bag used as your trash bin, the sudden cease of the whirring of your laptop fan, and finally the sound of a zipper.

you open your eyes in time to see taesan cupping your face in one hand and pulling your arm with the other to make you sit up. you let yourself be handled without evident resistance, though your confusion is blatant. once he sees that you're up, he quickly squats down in front of you, back facing you.

“climb up. this annoying prick will carry you home.”

a/n: this may or may not be insanely self-indulgent due to a cold i may or may not have. i also may or may not have thoughts about a pt. 2.

anw, first post! just fitting for it to be about han taesan bcs this man (read: bnd as a whole) has been living in my brain for the past month (case in point: me literally writing this note at 3am when my headache is killing me).

i hope this was as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write <3

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

[chaussetteblanche]

hobie taking care of drunk!you

pairing : hobie brown x gn!reader summary : the ways hobie takes care of you when you've had too much to drink warnings : none word count : about 1k

You had been shocked when Hobie had agreed to come to the party. You’d been begging him for days to come with you, not only because you wanted him to accompany you, but also because there were a few people you were convinced he would get along with. Other anarchists and punks. His kind of people. It was one of your friends’ birthday, and a perfect excuse to drink just a bit too much on a Friday evening.

“Aight, I’ll come along, but the second they get some of that shitty modern music playin’, I’m outta there, you get me?” he’d warned the day before. You had just beamed, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to give him a sweet kiss. He had hummed, heading back to the couch to resume his Bakunin book.

He was now staring at you across the room, you were in the kitchen with a dozen other people, throwing back drink after drink. He had known it was over when you’d started mixing alcohols. He’d have to stay the whole night, even if it was just to look after you. But it wasn’t as bad as he had expected, a few friends of yours had interesting political views and made for rich conversation. He internally winced when he saw your behaviour alter, thinking of how shitty you’d be feeling the following day.

“Hobie!” you cried loudly, wobbling over to him. He had a hand out as soon as you were within reach, hovering over the small of your back in case you were to stumble. "You alright there?" he asked. You nodded happily and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, smiling widely. “How are you liking the party with these two?” You motioned to your two friends, who chuckled at the state you were in. “I told ya you’d like ‘em,” “I do, they’re very nice, aren’t they?” he chuckled as you swayed lightly besides him. “How ‘bout you come with me for a sec, luv?” You looked down, shuffling your feet which seemed unusually far from you. “Not here, Hobes, we can’t…” Hobie let out a bark of laughter at the way your mind worked. “Nah, luv, I’m not tryna have sex right now, but let’s ‘ave a drink, though, yeah?” “Oh,” you nodded, a twinkling laugh escaping your throat, “sure,”

You wobbled enthusiastically to the kitchen, Hobie catching up with you within a few quick steps. “Lemme get ya somethin’ to drink, alright, luv?” Whenever you were out together, he would always make you drink some water without ruining your fun. You didn't always notice. “Sure, baby,” you smiled, all wet lips and pretty white teeth. Hobie let his eyes roam your face before tearing himself away and getting a shot glass. He filled it up with water and handed it to you. “Here ya go, dovey,” You stared sceptically down at the clear liquid in front of you, frowning. “It’s tequila,” he added, hoping to make you take the shot, like the dozen you’d taken before. You met his eye, brows low. “Like fuck it is.” He held his breath, sucking his tongue. Curse you for being so attractive when you acted defiant. “I’m not that drunk, you know, I can still differentiate water from tequila,” you spoke, chin lifted high. Hobie scanned your face, holding back a smirk. Glassy eyes, slurred speech, no balance whatsoever. He knew you well. Of course you were very, very far from sober and of course you wouldn't admit it. “Just drink it, alright?” he pressed, pinching the bridge of his nose to cover his smirk. “Fine, I’m drinking it, but it’s only because you’re so pretty, okay? So, it’s kind of a ‘fuck you’, just so you know.” He chuckled and nodded despite not understanding what you meant.

You run off after that and he returns to his conversation about neo-anarchism. But he loses sight of you for a few minutes and excuses himself, wanting to check up on you. He finds you outside, trying to convince your even drunker friend to come inside rather than sleeping in the grass. You’re lightly shaking her shoulder, whispering to her. “C’mon, babes, come inside. You can sleep on the couch, just not here, okay? I promise it's so much more comfortable.” Hobie’s heart warms at the sight of you caring for your friend despite the state you’re in. “Look, if you don’t get up, Imma give you a real slap and see how you like that,” you finally threaten, fed up. Hobie laughs when your friend gets up, grumbling, and heads inside.

“There y’are, lovely,” he speaks warmly, “’was looking f’you,” You tear your eyes away from your friend’s retreating form and look up at him. He looks even more beautiful under the moonlight, his silver piercing reflecting slightly. “Were you?” “Hmm,” he hums, lifting your chin and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Was worried ‘bout you,” “I’m fine,” you assure, grinning widely. “Really?” he cocks an eyebrow. You’re about to answer and say that, yes, really, you’re fine, but your stomach lurches and next thing you know you’re hunched over, the contents of your stomach spilling out into your friend’s bushes.

Hobie lets out a curse and quickly gathers your hair and pulls it back at the nape of your neck, getting it all out of your face. He rubs your back soothingly, whispering sweet things into your ear. “It’s okay, let it out, let it all out, baby, you’ll feel better afterwards.” When you’re done, he hands you a Kleenex and wipes your teary eyes, pouting slightly. “I’m so sorry, that was so fuckin’ disgusting,” you moan. He would probably be disgusted with you for weeks and would never want to ever look at you again. Your eyes started to well with tears. “Luv, y’know I don’t care ‘bout none of that,” he grins, kissing your cheek. “How ‘bout we get ya home, yeah?” “Yeah,” you look down, “that’s probably a good idea,”

When you’re back at his apartment, you shower together, and he helps you into bed. You’re out like a light, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, placing an Ibuprofen and a glass of water on your nightstand for the next morning. He smiles softly when you turn around to face him when he slides between the covers, your gentle breath fanning his face. You were a dumbass sometimes, but you were still his dumbass.

[ghostboneswrites2]

Easy Street || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Anon request from my old account: "can you write something about reader being daryls girlfriend and negan takes an interest towards her (like with olivia) and takes her with him maybe she becomes one of negans wife and he kisses her infront of daryl but both of them know they cant do anything shortly after they escape together…"

Summary: Negan taunts Daryl with you in some cruel ways.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: You're forced to be with Negan, so, there's that.., profanity psychological torture, TWD typical physical abuse/violence, but you do get a happy ending :)

        Every time he touched you, you cringed. He'd go to plant a kiss on you, you turned away. His hands were inescapable, as were his words. 

        "You're mine now, sweetheart." He'd say in your ear. Your chest would feel hot and tight, as if at any moment you'd simply explode. But you couldn't fight back, you couldn't swear or cry. No, that would only hurt the other man, the one you truly loved. The one you wanted to be with. The one who was being held in a cell probably descending into insanity with that god awful song playing on repeat. Sometimes at night, when The Sanctuary was quiet enough, you could hear it playing ever so faintly. That was when you'd cry. When you were around no one else and it was safe.

        You'd often think back to those sweet, tender moments you had with him.

        "Quit lookin' at me like that." He'd say.

        "Like what?" You'd giggle.

        "That."

        The other wives would tell you all the time that it wasn't worth it to think anymore, not about the past. You were his now, and his alone. There was no escape, no hope for return, only him, only Negan. They told you to just enjoy it, that you had it better than anyone else in The Sanctuary, or anyone in the communities they exploited.

        That wasn't an option for you, though. You needed that hope, those sparking glimpses of what you had, or everything would just be dark.

        "Hey there." Negan grinned from behind you, where you had been leaning your forearms on the counter, head hanging low. Your hair cascaded around you, a messy curtain shielding you from the room around you. "What do ya say we.. Go out?"

        You turned your head a little, not turning to face him but enough to acknowledge him.

        "Yeah, like, a date!" He chuckled enthusiastically. 

        "A date." You scoffed.

        "Well, that's what husbands and wives do, right?"

        "Yeah." You said lowly, voice laced with sorrow and defeat.

        It irked him the way he could give you the best life out of anyone you or he knew, aside from his other wives, but somehow you still managed to take it for granted. He had a plan, though, that he was sure would scare you into obedience. He wanted to treat you well, as he did all the wives, but his sympathy only went so far. What he wanted above all else was submission. He could never love you or anyone the way he loved Lucille, and since he could never get her back, he'd simply collect the pretty girls he came across like trophies.

        "Well, what the fuck are we waitin' for, my beloved?" He chuckled, sarcasm oozing from his tongue. "Let's get movin'! Got somethin' real special planned for you."

        Your heart sank a little. He was a charismatic man, but he only showed this much excitement when he expected to bring misery on someone else.

----

        "We're on easy street         And it feels so sweet"

        "Now this, darlin', I think you'll really like." Negan said with that shit eating grin that dug under your skin and made your stomach churn.

        "'Cause the world is 'bout a treat         When you're on easy street"

        He never took his eyes off of you as he gleefully reached for the thick metal door and pulled it open. Darkness leaked out. It felt like the shadows were slithering across the floor and reaching for your feat, ready to wrap around your ankles and tug you in.

        "And we're breaking out the good champagne         We're sitting pretty on the gravy train"

        "Well, go on. After you." He urged you, holding his hand out and stepping to the side like the doorman at a fancy hotel. You swallowed a dry gulp and sucked in a breath of bravery. Had you not been good enough? Was it your turn to be in a cell?

        "And when we sing every sweet refrain repeats         Right here on easy street"

        You stepped slowly, one foot after the other, closing your fists and digging your nails into your palms in hopes the pain would wake you from this nightmare. When you walked in, Negan stepped in behind you. Your eyes didn't adjust well.

        "Well, come on tough guy. Don't be shy." He said into the darkness. It took a while but a shadowy mass seemed to rise in the corner. As it drew closer to you and the light trickled in over its face you gasped.

        "Daryl." You covered your mouth. Your eyes watered at the sight of him. His skin was caked in sweat and dirt but not enough to cover the bruises and cuts that littered his face and circled around his eyes.

        He looked so miserable. Your chest ached more than it had the entire time you had been there.

        You went to step forward and embrace him but Negan wrapped an arm over your chest and pulled your back into him. 

        "Aht-aht-aht... Don't forget. You're mine now." He whispered in your ear, just loud enough for Daryl to hear. Daryl stepped forward but Negan held his bat out against his chest. "I wouldn't do that." He taunted. "Anyways, I didn't bring her all the way over here just to check out your studio suite. Come on, let's all go for a little walk, shall we?"

        Negan walked with his hand around your arm, keeping you close to him and distant from Daryl who trailed behind the two of you. He took you out to an empty courtyard where a small table was set with some wine and a meal on each side. Two chairs were pulled out for you and Negan and his men stood against the surrounding walls to intervene if Daryl acted up.

        "Have a seat." He told you as he set you in one of the chairs. "You," he looked to Daryl, pointing at him with Lucille. "Stand right there."

        Negan took the seat across from you and admired the setup before him. 

        "My, my. Isn't this nice, darlin'?" He asked you. You were at a loss for words. You just sat across from him uncomfortably. "Don't be rude." He snapped.

        You nodded. "It's nice." You croaked. All you wanted to do was cry.

        "Good. Now, dig in. Don't let my hard work go to waste." He ordered. You glanced over at Daryl. "Don't look at him."

        You pulled in a breath and it came back out shakily. You slowly reached for the silverware and began picking at the food, taking tiny bites. You felt nauseated.

        "Now, is this a date, or is this a date?" Negan chuckled, a mouth full of food. Food that was taken from your people, food that they starved to give him.

        You didn't respond. You couldn't. His silverware clanked as he dropped it on his plate. A frustrated sigh escaped him -- or rather -- he pushed a sigh out to be sure you'd hear his frustration. 

        "(Y/N), dear, why don't ya come over here and sit on my lap?" He asked. You froze. Absolutely the fuck not. But, did you have a choice? "Don't keep me waiting. You don't want to keep me waiting."

        You'd never met someone who could be so happy yet so menacing. 

        You stood slowly, reluctantly approaching him at the speed of a snail, savoring every moment where he wasn't touching you.

        He pushed his chair back to make room for you and welcomed you onto his lap. You felt your body shrivel up as he ran a hand over your back and brushed your hair with his fingers. With your back turned to him you were able to sneak a glance toward Daryl. Your heart just shattered more. He looked so pained seeing you touched by another man, especially against your will. Maybe he could handle it if you decided to want someone else, maybe he could stomach that. But watching you endure psychological torture was too much to bare.

        "Turn this way." Negan coaxed, pulling your thighs to the side to spin you. Now your body faced Daryl, but your face didn't because Negan had a gentle yet firm hold of your jaw and he was turning your face to him.

        He leaned in slowly and connected his lips with yours. You went rigid, frozen solid. You couldn't escape his kiss this time. Any resistance would have been a greenlight to his soldiers to hurt Daryl even worse.

        Daryl couldn't take anymore though. He'd be beaten to death if it meant he didn't have to see that anymore.

        "You bastard." He growled as he went to lunge forward. His reaction was expected, though. Negan's men were on him in the blink of an eye, dragging him away as he tugged and yanked, trying to free himself from their grasp.

        Negan scooted you off him and stood up. You couldn't take your eyes off of your man, your best friend, your rock. Daryl.

        "That is a tragedy." Negan shook his head, feigning disappointment, as if that wasn't exactly what he expected to happen. "Teach him." Was all he had to say for his men to initiate a brutal attack. Daryl got a few good punches in. He always put up a good fight, part of the reason Negan wanted him to surrender so bad. If he could break such a wild beast, he'd have the best addition to his army he'd ever seen.

        "No!" You shrieked. You tried to run for him but Negan grabbed you around the waist. You collapsed to the ground, desperately reaching for Daryl as the surrounding attackers got the better of him. When they had him on the ground they started kicking and didn't stop. You cringed at each painful grunt Daryl uttered as Negan dragged your sobbing frame away from the scene.

----

        Negan was gone for the day, most likely out terrorizing someone you loved back at Alexandria. Sherry, another one of Negan's stolen wives, walked up and placed a hand on your shoulder. You hadn't eaten in days, barely drank water, rarely spoke. You were torn to pieces, replaying every strike his men struck on Daryl, every sound he made, wondering if he was alive.

        Part of you hoped they'd just put him out of his misery. If there really was no hope, at least you could believe he wasn't suffering anymore.

        "Hey." She said softly. Of all the wives, you related to her the most. Dwight was her real husband, before Negan took her from him. She knew what you were feeling, at least to some extent.

        "Hey." You managed.

        "It's time." She told you. You gave her a questioning look. "Come."

        You followed her out of the home and through the Sanctuary to the building where they kept their prisoners. She brought you to his door. His door. You were sure she brought you to say goodbye, that he wouldn't be around much longer.

        "You can go now. Don't let anyone see." She said quickly before she turned and ran away.

        "Wh -- Sherry! Wait!" You called after her.

        "Just go! The door's unlocked!" She turned to you one last time before she disappeared. She needed not say more. You did wonder if it was a test, but if it was, it was a test you'd gladly fail for even a glimpse of hope.

        You tugged his door open and called his name. "Daryl?"

        He stood quickly, looking behind you for Negan or other Saviors. 

        "Just me. Come on. We have to go now." You urged. You took his hand and pulled him out of the cell, looking around for a way out.

        "C'mon." He told you, tugging you in another direction as if he knew where he was going. The sounds of Saviors echoed from somewhere. He tugged you into a room and shut the door behind him, frantically searching around. 

        "There." You whispered, pointing at a pile of clothes with his vest on top.

        He swiftly changed into his old clothes and out of the grimy white sweat suit they had made him wear before. You grabbed a jar of peanut butter and held it out to him. He dug his fingers in and ate the entire contents in just a few bites. When he finished he wiped his hands clean on his old sweats before peaked out of the door. The coast was clear, and it was time.  He tugged you along, wasting no time at all. He beat a single Savior to death with a pipe in fear he'd ruin your escape. 

        As if God was on your side that day, you two stumbled across his bike. There it was, it was either sign this was an elaborate setup or that you were really escaping together. He threw a leg over the seat and you quickly climbed on behind him. He cranked it and revved the engine. You wrapped your arms around him and held him tightly, resting your face against his back as he sped away.

        You two rode for an hour before he pulled off to the side of the road. The two of you stepped off the bike.

        "What are you doing? We have to go! They'll catch us--"

        He cut you off with his hands, gripping either side of your face and slapping his lips into yours. You let go of any anxiety you had felt and just melted into his lips. 

[cobaltperun]

Woe out the Storm (3) - Thunder

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

Word count: 3.3k

-I was lightning before the thunder-

The Harvest Festival, frankly, you preferred it over the Outreach Day, for plenty of reasons. One of which was easily the fact you could just kick back and relax instead of working for people that despised everything you and other students were against your free will.

The only issue was you couldn't relax this year. Wednesday would escape tonight, meaning tonight was Rowan's last chance to try something.

And then there was Galpin... Talking with his father. Now, you did hear he stopped bullying people with the other three, but you found it difficult to forgive and forget.

You frowned and looked at Wednesday. "Really, Galpin is the one driving you?" you couldn't help but ask.

"I don't see how it concerns you," Wednesday replied.

You nodded, simply choosing to back away. Wednesday wasn't helpless, and who she interacted with definitely didn't have anything to do with you.

"Obvious dislike aside, are you sure you can trust that normie?" Enid asked, though she did send you a bit of a teasing smile.

"I trust that I can handle myself," Wednesday replied. Considering what she did against Bianca you found it difficult to disagree.

"Well, good luck and safe travels," Enid stepped toward her with her arms spread wide, only for Wednesday to decisively take a step back. "Still not a hugger. Got it," Enid shrugged, smiling at the girl.

"If you change your mind a third of that room is going to stay yours," you grinned.

"Until Weems puts someone else in," Wednesday told you.

Your grin turned into a smirk as you lifted your hand up and allowed a few sparks to appear around it. Just for a moment you thought you saw a spark of interest in Wednesday's eyes as she observed the sparks. "Nope, I'll personally make them ask for another room." you promised.

Enid coughed and elbowed your side.

You winced. She sometimes forgot her strength. "Nicely, of course, I'll keep my lightning to myself."

Wednesday tilted her head to the side by less than an inch. "Pity," she said.

You leaned to the side, shifting most of your weight to your right foot, you weren't sure how to take those words. "Since I won't be seeing you again, I, uh, I think you're great with the cello," there, a compliment to end the brief time together. That shouldn't make Wednesday uncomfortable, right?

Her eyes met yours and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of her stare. "Thank you," she eventually spoke up and the three of you parted ways soon after.

The moment Wednesday was out of sight Enid clasped your shoulder and smiled sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"Huh?"

"You don't have to pretend, I don't get what you see in her, but you don't have to hide it from me," somehow Enid got the wrong idea.

You sighed. This was your life now. Enid thought you had unrequited feelings for Wednesday. "Look, I know I can't change your mind," she enthusiastically nodded at that. "So, I’ll take a page out of Wednesday's book, somewhat. If you gossip about those feelings you claim I have, I'll fry your stuffed unicorn collection."

Enid squealed and bounced excitedly. "OMG! You do have feelings for her!" she wasn't going to let this go and you didn't even know how she came to that conclusion! Her eyes widened suddenly. "Go after her! Go!" in less than a second she was behind you and pushing you in the direction Wednesday went. "At least find a way to exchange letters with her if you can't convince her to stay!"

"Enid," you groaned, facepalming as you dug your feet into the ground to try and keep her from pushing you. All that achieved was two rows of dug up ground behind you. From the corner of your eye you saw Rowan, even more agitated and anxious than he was back when you confronted him in his and Xavier's room. "I have to go," you said, moving so abruptly Enid stumbled and almost fell to the ground.

~X~

Wednesday only touched Rowan for a moment, but it was more than enough. She saw flashes, glimpses of what was to come, all vague and unrelated, painting a picture she couldn't understand. She saw the purple book, the flames, the tree in the quad breaking into pieces, the raven surrounded by lightning, a glimpse of a blonde woman holding a bloodied hand and crying as blue eyes closed, red eyes turning orange, herself surrounded by cloud of dust and smoke with a huge beast surrounded by lightning standing over her trapping her, Rowan screaming as he was being torn apart by claws. And then the vision stopped

"Rowan, come back!" she ran after him, ignoring Tyler calling after her. She didn't understand why she was running, why she wished to prevent the last vision from coming true. Perhaps she just wanted to see if everything she saw was true, or if it somehow could be changed.

"Rowan, wait!" she shouted as she followed him deeper into the woods, the only signs of the festival that remained were occasional flashes of firework and the sounds they made.

Rowan stopped and turned toward her, furious and looking unhinged. "Argh! What do you want? Why are you following me?!"

"I don't have time to explain, but you're in danger," she wouldn't tell him about the vision, she didn't know how much time she had.

"I think you've got it backwards," he lifted his hand and suddenly Wednesday felt an invisible force lifting her up and slamming her back into a tree.

Even with her pain tolerance she still grunted, feeling the trunk digging into her back uncomfortably.

"You're the one who's in danger!" Rowan told her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, and though she struggled it was futile. She couldn't get free.

"Saving everyone from you," he grunted, straining to keep her pinned to the tree. "I have to kill you."

That's when she pieced it together. "The gargoyle, that was you?"

"Yeah," he even smiled a bit.

"It's always the quiet ones," Wednesday commented as a piece of paper floated out of Rowan's pocket and unfolded in front of her. She saw a girl, dressed in black, with the background that looked like quad, only on fire.

"Girl in the picture, that's you," he said, she could feel the strain in his voice, but the force pinning her to a tree only got stronger.

"You want to kill me because of some picture?!" that was a ridiculous reason to kill someone, even for her standards.

"My mother drew that picture 25 years ago when she was a student at Nevermore! She was a powerful Seer. Told me about it before she died," Rowan yelled, as if that fact made his excuse for trying to kill her any better.

"Rowan, put me down," she demanded, his powers made it harder to breathe. He was choking her; he wasn't going to stop.

"No! My mother said it was my destiny to stop this girl if she ever came to Nevermore because she will destroy the school and everyone in it!" he cried out as Wednesday became unable to breathe.

"Rowan! Let her go!" she heard your voice and looked to the side, just as you threw a knife toward Rowan. Your aim was awful. He didn't even need to move and it would miss him by at least two feet.

And then she saw it, just as the knife was about to reach Rowan your body was engulfed in red lightning and you disappeared, your entire body shifting into lightning and bursting forth toward the knife. Wednesday watched, speechless as your body regained form right in front of Rowan, the knife in your left hand, and you, too fast for him to react.

You slammed your fist into his guts, sending him flying back, though she couldn't help but notice you didn't use lightning for the punch, just the natural momentum and strength you had. It still sent Rowan flying.

It also broke his hold on Wednesday and you threw the knife toward the tree, zapping toward it just in time to catch her before she fell to the ground. Wednesday blinked, still dazed by what just happened as you set her down and knelt in front of her. you weren't touching her, but she could clearly see the concern in your eyes.

"Are you hurt?" you asked, looking for any visible signs of injuries.

"I'm fine," she denied having any injuries. What were you thinking? That she'd show vulnerability to you just like that?

"Y/N!" Rowan enraged, bellowed as he got up to his knees and raised his arm. Your eyes widened as you were pulled into the air.

"Wait, Rowan!" Wednesday found herself shouting as she tried to get up.

"I'll kill you after I'm done with Y/N!" he had lost his mind completely, the madness in his eyes made that clear.

"Bring it! I'll show you exactly why Weems and the staff dread the storms!" you thundered, lightning gathered around you and began concentrating in a ball above your head. "Give up or I'll drop this on you! Forget all this madness!" despite the anger she could hear you pleading deep down for Rowan to just listen to you.

You never got a chance to do so, as a monster emerged from the shadows and grabbed Rowan, slicing and tearing him apart with its claws.

You dropped to the ground, landing on one knee. You were too surprised by the monster's appearance to maintain the ball of lightning. The monster turned to look at you two, with its bulging eyes, hunched back, sharp claws and greyish skin it was unlike anything Wednesday saw in her life.

"That's an," did you recognize the monster? "...oversized Gollum?" she expected too much from you...

~X~

The oversized Gollum fled and you and Wednesday were left with Rowan's corpse. You didn't need to be an expert to see he was ripped open by those claw and dead.

You watched, wondering if there was anything you could have done. You had your lightning ready, but you just couldn't react in time. Were you going to hurt Rowan? Yeah, as far as that went you couldn't say you were any better than the monster that attacked him, but you weren't going to kill him, as strong as the lightning you gathered looked. You were going to aim for the ground in front of him, close enough to knock him out from the shock, but not nearly close enough to kill him.

You were frantically looking around, searching for any signs of the monster coming back, but it looked like it really left.

"We need to get someone," there was an urgency in Wednesday's voice you didn't quite expect, but you could see her legs shaking slightly. Shock from Rowan's death? No. She didn't look shaken. Was it the hit she took when he tossed her into the tree?

Deciding that it was probably that you nodded and followed closely behind her, just in case she couldn't keep standing. Damn Xavier for slowing you down, maybe all of this could have been avoided if you were only a minute quicker.

The first person you came across was Bianca and you noticed Wednesday faltering just for a split second. "Rowan was killed by a monster, I don't have time to explain, just get someone," Wednesday opened straight with that.

Bianca's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? What are you talking about?"

But before Wednesday could reply she began falling forward. "Wednesday," you caught her and turned her around in your arms. She was unconscious. "Bianca we both saw him get killed. Get someone, I need to take Wednesday back to the dorm," you knew you were putting your life at risk by doing so, and that Wednesday probably knew roughly ta thousand different ways to inflict pain, give or take a few hundred, and that she'd be more than eager to put you through them. You still picked her up. "Please don't wake up," you pleaded, but your gaze softened. Wednesday looked peaceful and you couldn't help but notice how light and small she actually was. "I got you, I know you can't hear me, but I got you."

~X~

In the most ridiculous turn of events Rowan was actually alive, even though he clearly got killed less than 24 hours ago. How was that possible? You had no idea. You just knew the entire school thought you and Wednesday made that up. So, here you were, in the woods, looking for anything that could prove the two of you weren’t crazy.

And you found it, you found Rowan’s glasses with drops of blood on them. With glasses in your hand you went back to your dorm. Someone was covering things up.

When you came back to the room you found Wednesday and Thing at her table, looking at the drawing she took from Rowan. You placed the glasses on her table, near Thing. "Someone is covering this up," you went to her other side and leaned back against her table, your hands gripping the edge of it.

"These are Rowan's. You went to the woods?" she demanded, looking at you with slightly widened eyes.

You nodded. "I wasn't sure if the oversized Gollum was still there, so I went alone," you heard tapping and saw Thing rapidly signing to you. Somehow you understood. "I wasn't being reckless, I'm a raiju," in your mind that was all the explanation you needed to give.

"Don't do that again," Wednesday stated firmly. "I want to make sure we don't miss any clues," she said and then showed you the drawing. "I need to know what this is about."

That made sense. "Any clues as to where that's from?"

"No," she then pointed at the upper right corner. "But I noticed this just before you came in," there was a mark there, it was faint, but you could see it.

"Looks like a flower? I guess?" you couldn't offer much aside from that. You've never seen it before.

"Let's go to the library," she stood up from her chair and Thing went into her bag.

“You can go ahead first, I’ll join you in a bit,” you figured she was too eager to search for the book to let you go into the library first.

“Why?” she immediately asked.

You looked away, embarrassed. “The rumors, I guess? Most people go to the library for reasons that don’t have anything to do with books, if you get what I mean,” when she remained silent, and more importantly when she maintained that same look that inquired you to keep going, you were left with no other choice but to sigh and elaborate. “Making out. Most people make out in the library. So, we go there together and it won’t take Enid’s vlog for half the school to think we’re doing the same,” she was already deemed a psycho by most of the school, and the rumors that she killed someone could still be heard every now and then. Add in the fact that the entire school thought the two of you made up Rowan’s murder and as far as you were concerned the last thing Wednesday needed right now was for people to think she was with a raiju of all outcast groups.

Wednesday just frowned, tilting her head the same way she did during the festival. “Do not assume I care about such trivial rumors. Come on,” she was already halfway to the doors by the time you processed what she just said.

“Wednesday, I’m a raiju,” you reminded her, but still followed. She wasn’t going to stop and talk about this.

“I don’t see an issue with that, lightning beast. You can back out if you’re so sensitive about rumors,” she said evenly, there wasn’t a hint of hesitation, or any emotion in her voice, it was as if she was just stating a fact.

You could just watch her back, not entirely sure how to feel at the moment. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

That got Wednesday to stop and turn around to look at you. “Then you should know I don’t care if they think I’m with you,” she just said it. As if she didn’t just say it didn’t matter what you were. That it didn’t matter you were a raiju. Sure, there were more dangerous outcasts, but raiju were solitary creatures. Docile, but uncontrollable, and you weren’t talking about just storms. That could be controlled, with time and practice you’d be able to stay in the rain and not worry about uncontrollable discharges. No, it was the beast form. Untamable, driven by instincts, unable to speak or fully grasp the situation it was in. Lightning is only capable of destruction and that form was the embodiment of lightning. Even with all the efforts you put into learning how to control your lightning you’d never, under any but direst circumstances, willingly shift into the actual raiju form.

Your father, as much as he cared about his roommate while at Nevermore, still lost control when he shifted and the man and his brother barely avoided being killed during a particularly bad storm. The fear of doing the same was what made you so adamant on staying in control all the time.

And here Wednesday was, acting as if rumors about her being with a raiju wouldn’t bother her.

All you could was to let out a weak laugh and go after the girl to the library.

~X~

Basically bursting into the library the two of you were met with the sight you expected to see. Heavy make out session of two students, vampires this time. You awkwardly looked to the side, not really wanting to meet their eyes as they fled the library, embarrassed to be caught.

Wednesday, for whatever reason, and against your expectations, didn’t seem to be affected by what she saw. She just went straight into searching for the book. Thing got out of her backpack and began searching as well, so you did too. You looked for anything purple that had the mark on the page Wednesday had.

"I keep seeing that same purple book," Wednesday said to thing after you showed her yet another shade of purple that didn’t match what she was looking for.

Apparently, Thing didn’t have much luck either. "The cover was darker, more like a day-old contusion, keep looking."

“That’s one way to describe a color,” you grinned at her, but before she could reply, if she was even going to reply, the doors opened and the two of you looked up to see Thornhill at the top of the stairs. Thing quickly hid behind the books.

"I don't usually find students in here looking for actual books," Thornhill said as she came down the stairs. "Most sneak in to make out."

"We accidentally walked in on two vampires fanging, I can't unsee that," Wednesday said and you looked away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I’ll come back later, if you don’t mind,” you said, not really wanting to spend time with the woman. You couldn’t get the look in her eyes out of your head whenever you saw her. That look of fear she had when she saw you electrocuting Tyler and his friends on the previous Outreach day. It was barely stronger than a taser, but it could have been stronger, and no matter what was said or done your and Thornhill’s relationship was permanently and irrevocably damaged. Hence, why you didn’t pay attention to her classes and did the tests just well enough to pass them.

"Sorry about that, I'm afraid Y/N and I got off on the wrong foot," you heard Thornhill saying as you left the library.

A/N: So, I'm just gonna say it right now. In the middle of writing this chapter, I was struck with sudden inspiration and I skipped way ahead and wrote the ending scene. You are probably going to hate me when you read it. (No, Reader doesn't die, in case anyone considered that for a moment.) So, yeah, until next time, bye!

[vikeera]

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

switch!Alastor & switch!Rosie (strictly platonic)

I decided to slightly improve the fic I created earlier. I felt that the previous version was missing something, so having some free time I decided to fix it :)

I hope you like it!

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Sweet Revenge

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After the hectic Extermination Day and successful battle against the angelic army, everyone in the hotel enthusiastically tried their best to make this place better and encourage other sinners to visit. Not much time has passed since this bloody event, despite many injuries and destruction around, it all unexpectedly brought everyone closer together.

It was certainly an adrenaline-pumping experience, leaving everyone with a kind of uneasiness felt in their chests, even though with mutual care and support the feeling quickly went away, some of them still had to spend every next day in such state not really knowing how to get rid of it.

Most of them spent their free time on common activities, without admitting it directly, everyone felt relieved that they could still share their memories with others in this place.

The rebuilt building made a truly shocking impression, attracting the attention of new guests from afar. There was much to be said about the hotel, but it certainly wasn't a quiet place, for sure not suitable for everyone at the moment, even those who had spent long days there before.

Loud noises, chaos and attention from everyone around was something that Alastor definitely wanted to avoid, even though he wouldn't admit it, the fight with Adam was exhausting for him.

Once feared and revered, now found himself consumed by a sense of vulnerability. Constantly reminding himself of the defeat and humiliation that had befallen him, a feeling of weakness returned that he couldn't get rid of.

He needed time and peace to minimally recover from physical and mental damage, having nowhere to go he decided to stay for a while in Cannibal Town, specifically at the house of his dear friend Rosie.

Alastor tried to put on his best posture throughout his stay in his friend's elegant empire, from the beginning he didn't want to let on that something so insignificant was bothering him, hiding it under his classic wide smile, but it didn't go unnoticed by Rosie, who knew him better than anyone in the hotel.

A few days have passed since Alastor settled into one of the decorated guest rooms, he didn't complain about the conditions he was in, the neat and clean room quickly became a quiet place full of incredible bouts of boredom for him. Still dealing with the painful mark of defeat on his body, his condition only allowed him to walk around the building for hours, thinking about everything that had happened. At times he could lose himself in melancholy, which for some reason was still stressful, as if he was reliving the humiliation and pain he had experienced that day.

His worries subsided temporarily every evening when Rosie came back and spent time with him. She would spend every single hour with him if she could, but as the most important figure in the formidable city, she unfortunately had responsibilities to fulfill, which left Alastor alone at the mercy of his own thoughts. It was tedious, but they both still enjoyed the moments they could share together every evening. Rosie didn't mind his longer visit, she loved his company and playfully joked how she didn't expect Alastor to be the type of person who liked sleepovers so much that he would stay for more than one night.

It had been a long time since they could spend some quality time together, so Alastor's unfortunate recovery was still a chance for them to catch up.

At that moment, he was sitting partially undressed on an elegant sofa in his room, waiting for Rosie to return with new bandages. She helped him change them and take care of the wound so it would heal as best as possible. Alastor looked around at the classy old furniture, trying to escape for a moment from all memories brought back by the scar that marred his chest. After a few long minutes that seemed like an eternity, Rosie walked hesitantly into the room.

''Alright dear, sit up straight and try not to make it difficult, I will be gentle'' - she said with a slight smile.

Alastor wasn't a fan of this moment, the fact that he had to accept help made him feel even more vulnerable. Despite the smile that always accompanied him, Rosie couldn't help but notice the dejection etched upon his face. It was a long and hard day for Rosie as well, but helping her guest was a priority, so changing her clothes into a more comfortable scarlet red ruffled shirt and a long black skirt was the only thing she did before going to Alastor's room, knowing she will spend the rest of the evening with him anyway, she didn't have to worry about maintaining her elegant image for the next hours.

Without a word, Rosie sat down next to him, her nimble fingers worked swiftly, wrapping the bandages around his wound with care.

As she applied the final touches, the sight of his miserable expression filled her with a mix of pity and frustration. Regardless of repeated denials, she knew that Alastor wasn't feeling well and wanted to do something about it, but she didn't know what exactly.

''My dear, despite everything, I would be glad if you showed some enthusiasm for being here, after all, it has been some time since we last met without uninvited guests around'' - she said in a confident voice, carefully observing her companion's reaction.

Alastor looked at her, saying nothing, but his expression softened slightly, as if her words alone had improved his mood.

''Well, I certainly don't mind your company, but I would appreciate it if you stopped staring at me like I'm your next meal'' - he replied with a slightly playful tone, earning a quiet giggle from her.

She was pleased that despite his worries, Alastor was still able to enjoy her company and was motivated to keep trying to lighten the mood. Finishing up one of the bandages, she lightly brushed her fingers against his ribs, just inches from the scar he so desperately tried to ignore.

To her surprise, Alastor's body tensed as a ripple of involuntary shivers coursed through him, this reaction didn't go unnoticed.

''Are you okay dear? You know you can say it directly if you feel uncomfortable or-'' - Rosie began to speak with concern in her voice, but Alastor's words quickly cut her off.

''I assure you that I'm perfectly fine, please continue'' - he said calmly, while his ears twitched a little.

Fixing the last bandage, Rosie's fingers gently brushed against his ribs again, forcing him to bend slightly under the irritating touch. This time she was sure that the pain wasn't what he felt, she didn't even touch his wound.

''Alastor, I'm serious! what has gotten into you?'' - Rosie asked with slight irritation, not understanding why her companion was squirming under such a gentle touch.

He tried to avoid answering that question and just looked away, at first Rosie was worried she had accidentally hurt him, anyone else might feel uncomfortable in such a situation, but Alastor? He is the last person she would suspect of avoiding the opportunity to speak.

However, seeing his lips twitched, a hint of amusement threatening to break through his somber facade, a realization and a mischievous idea immediately appeared.

If he doesn't want to say what's wrong, she will make him do it in her own way, getting rid of his grumpy mood was another reason why she put her plan into action.

''Now, darling, if you want to keep quiet, let's see how long you can last'' - a playful grin appeared as her fingers began to dance nimbly all over his ribs, despite his attempt to maintain his dignity, with each merciless touch, Alastor's resistance crumbled.

''Rohosie wahahait!-'' - he choked out, trying as hard as he could to hold still and not break under the unbearable sensations.

''Oh, look at that! You can talk after all!''- Rosie giggled as she watched the mighty demon writhe uncontrollably.

Alastor's attempt at self-control failed miserably as her fingers began to explore his sides and stomach.

A distinct radio static hum could be heard for a moment, which was quickly replaced by loud genuine laughter.

''Stohohop pleheaAHAHA!'' - he pleaded, as his cheeks turned red at how pathetic he must look right now. However, he was glad that Rosie was the one who had to see him like this because he would probably have tried to kill anyone else in such a situation.

“There it is!” - Rosie exclaimed triumphantly with a sinister smirk.

Alastor burst out laughing, unable to believe how something so childish could work against him.

Rosie, on the other hand, delighted with the current situation, attacked the most sensitive spots on his body with surprising precision what seemed even terrifying at the time for the poor deer.

Alastor tried to protest, gently pushing his friend away, but he couldn't choke out anything but laughter.

“You must use your words, dear” - Rosie stated mischievously, focusing the energy in her fingers on Alastor's ribs.

He let out a bark of laughter trying not to lose himself in the irritating yet pleasurable touch overwhelming his body for the next few minutes.

Rosie's eyes sparkled with amusement as she saw her friend's tail lively wagging.

''Alastor don't tell me you are really enjoying this! You make me want to torture you even longer~'' - teased as she again vigorously wriggled her fingers along his ribs.

Alastor was frustrated by the fact he was practically lying bare-chested in front of Rosie, exposing some of his worst spots and feeling like hunted prey.

''Oh my, you're so ticklish! I can't even touch you without making you laugh dear!'' - she exclaimed, with a quick movement of one hand, suddenly wiggling her fingers behind Alastor's ear receiving an immediate reaction.

''HAHAHA! ROHOHOSIE-!!'' - he screamed with laughter, barely catching his breath.

"You're not slipping out of this, Alastor" - Rosie interrupted him quickly, still in disbelief at how quickly she defeated such a powerful demon.

For about the next 15 minutes, the entire room was filled with loud laughter mixed with radio static and begging for mercy.

After a long moment, Rosie slowed her attack, allowing her victim to breathe while she stood up, giving him a moment of peace, Alastor was practically melting on the sofa, still giggling.

He couldn't remember the last time he was able to laugh so freely.

''My dear, you're a mess, but if I had to guess, I'd say you feel a little better'' - Rosie assumed with a little smirk on her face, carefully giving her companion a glass of water.

''You're such a cruel woman, but I must say you're right'' - Alastor replied, panting heavily.

''Always happy to help you bring back that sincere smile'' - she replied with a soft giggle, sitting down on the sofa next to him.

The calm atmosphere that fell in the room for a moment did not last long, after all, as a powerful vengeful demon, Alastor couldn't miss the opportunity for a cruel revenge.

Little did Rosie know that giving him so much time to recover would turn against her so quickly.

''I can't believe I'm saying this out loud, but your unexpected attack was actually… fun'' - Alastor started, looking out of the corner of his eye at the sincere smile his friend was giving him.

''-however, I can't help it but feel that there was one thing missing from all of this'' - he said with a chuckle, turning towards Rosie.

''Oh, and what is it?'' - she asked, raising an eyebrow, unaware of what was about to happen to her.

She felt a little uneasy seeing the playful grin on the face in front of her.

''Why, my sweet revenge of course!'' - Alastor declared, using his powers as support.

Before Rosie could say anything, she felt a strong tendril grab her wrists and place her arms above her head.

Her eyes widened and she couldn't help the unsure smile that spread across her face as she quickly realized what was happening.

"Alastor! Don't you dare." - she giggled, hoping that her friend would have some mercy, oh how wrong she was.

"Oh, I dare" - he replied with a devious grin, gently lifting up Rosie's shirt, exposing her stomach.

Not even 3 seconds has passed and she felt ruthless fingers dancing on her sides and stomach, causing a sudden reaction.

“ALASTOR! QUIHIHIT IHIHIHIT!” - Rosie burst out laughing, unable to even break free.

''Oh, but I'm just getting started'' - he replied with a smirk, continuing his little revenge.

After a moment, Alastor moved his hands a little higher, mercilessly digging his fingers into Rosie's ribs, as he well knew the sensitive spot they both shared.

''AHAHALASTOHOR!'' - she shouted with laughter, unable to add anything more.

''Bingo, quite a weakness dear!” - he said calmly with pride in his voice, knowing he will pay back for everything he had experienced a moment ago.

''Dohohohn’t tehehease mehea-AHAHA!” - Rosie's protest was immediately interrupted with loud laughter when Alastor blew a raspberry on her stomach. At this point, all she could do was give up and squirm under the unbearable attack.

''Well, look at that, maybe this time you will be my meal!'' - teased with a playful grin, attacking Rosie's ribs and sides again.

She couldn't even respond to his words as lively laughter escaped her lips.

The next few minutes were filled with laughter from both of them, a moment of carefreeness was something they both needed and even though neither of them would admit it out loud, they were glad that they could spend this time together.

After a while, Alastor moved away, allowing his friend to catch her breath.

The sight of the usually elegant and composed person trying to stop giggling was amusing, she was probably thinking the same about him just a moment ago.

''Don't give me that look, you asked for it~'' - Alastor said playfully, sitting calmly next to her with a wide smile.

He had no idea that his silly revenge will bring tragic consequences.

''Oh? Well if you say so-'' - Rosie began teasingly, still giggling lightly, suddenly grabbing Alastor's ankle and dragging her nails up and down his hoof.

''-then let's see who can last longer.'' - she said with a mischievous grin, immediately earning a loud laugh from her friend.

They saw each other too rarely not to use this time to do something fun.

For the rest of the evening, all worries and unpleasant memories were forgotten, the only thing present in the small guest room was laughter and the hope they would have the opportunity to spend time like this again.

Who won their frivolous fight? The answer is Rosie, she knew her friend too long not to reach for his worst spots, although Alastor didn't give up easily and despite the final defeat, he still made her beg for mercy more than once.

In the end, they enjoy each other's company and the moments they share through playful activities, even if they end up completely wrecked after.

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[harmshake]

For Your Eyes Only

Rhea interrupts her girlfriend's livestream to record a different kind of show...

Rhea Ripley x Mali (fem!black!oc) | 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut | 2,276 words

Happy reading! Read my other Rhea stories here, if you'd like. ✨

"Welcome queens, kings, and everyone fabulous in between to Mali's Lit Adult Slumber Party. I'm Mali, your host, your homegirl, and your favorite wine enthusiast as it's not an adult slumber party without gettin' a little lit."

Mali sat on the furry, burgundy rug with her iPhone mounted in the center of her ring light on the coffee table, her pink-crystal wine glass filled to the brim with the evening's fan-voted choice of white zinfandel that she tipped to the camera to toast with her audience before she took a small sip. Her brown eyes scanned the comments that whizzed by on her Instagram livestream feed and she did her best to shout out her returning followers who commented with wine glass emojis as they greeted her.

"Yesss, y'all know the vibes! We're gonna get into the usual tonight. A little sippin', a little gossipin', and a lot of fun," Mali said with a charming smile on her glossy, red, thick lips. 

It was nearly midnight yet her makeup was on, her honey brown, curly coils were gathered up into a top knot, and she wore a silky, pink pajama two-piece that showed off the chocolate brown skin of her shoulders. That was the vibe of her adult slumber party: Cute, a bit sexy, and lively. It matched her vibe in the daytime as well as she was a model who often kept those three adjectives at the front of her mind as she posed for magazine and Instagram ad campaigns wearing the latest designs from either established or upcoming lux clothing brands. Mali was grateful that she'd found a career that allowed her to express herself—and even more grateful to share it with her adoring fans who supported her work at every turn.

Her Lit Adult Slumber Party was a newish creation, only three months old, but it was a hit with almost five thousand people viewing her livestream as she asked how everyone's day was before she got into her routine. 

Yet Mali would be remiss to pretend the near-overnight popularity of her Friday night show wasn't also partly due to her girlfriend. It would be impossible to pretend otherwise as her lovely viewers flooded her feed with questions about her every two seconds.

Is Rhea home tonight?

Will Rhea say hi to us tonight or is she busy??

Where's Rhea???

Mali simply smiled as it came with the territory of dating a world wrestling champion...and one of the hottest women she couldn't escape seeing thirst fancams of on her TikTok. She and Rhea had met at a red carpet event last summer and Mali couldn't take her eyes off seeing the tall, brawny, and stunningly gorgeous woman in person after only watching the compilations of her slamming girls to the mat and looking hot while doing so.

The feeling was mutual as Rhea's eyes kept finding hers throughout the night before she finally approached Mali, told her she found her just as stunning, and that she would love to have her number. And after a couple of weeks of texting, sexting, and FaceTime calls when Mali told her she would love to see if she was as strong and dominant in the bedroom as she was in the ring, their relationship blossomed into a love affair that had everyone talking.

Including her audience as they bombarded her with the same questions about Rhea's whereabouts to the point where Mali responded, "Yeah, she's home. She's still in the shower, I think. She has an early flight, though, so don't expect to see her. Now that I think about it, she might already be in bed."

Just then, Mali heard footsteps pad across the tile of the hallway that led to their living room where she was streaming. She saw the comments zip with people typing in all caps and heart-eye emojis before she looked over her shoulder to see her girlfriend walking toward her. She wore nothing but an oversized, black band tee that hardly covered her slender, yet muscular, tatted thighs, her hand pushing back her longish, damp, and dark hair off her bare and beautiful face as a small smirk touched her pink, plump lips.

"You still up?!" Mali asked in gentle surprise as Rhea knelt behind her to rest her chin on her shoulder. She stared into the camera with that adorable smirk as she waved hello to Mali's viewers.

"Still up. Not tired just yet." Rhea chimed in her husky, slightly raspy accent. Mali found it attractive each time her girlfriend opened her mouth, and it made a tiny thrill shimmy down her spine when she added with a swift, soft kiss to her neck, "But I think you're ready for bed, right, baby?"

"Wha—" Mali tried to ask but Rhea grabbed her chin to steer her lips to hers for another kiss...except this one was slow and sent that thrill through her body with heat that simmered between her thighs. Rhea then had the nerve to carefully flick her tongue along hers in a way that she knew her viewers could see and would make Mali struggle not to moan on camera.

She was so shocked yet aroused by Rhea's behavior that she was stuck and couldn't pull herself away to ask her why she decided to give her fans a peep show out of nowhere. Mali knew despite her girlfriend being on television just about every week, Rhea enjoyed her privacy and scarcely appeared on her livestreams as she told her she didn't want to "intrude on her thing."

Yet as she slid her fingers into Mali's messy bun to control the kiss as it deepened before she gently yanked her head back to plant a little peck on her throat, Rhea seemed to enjoy all the eyes on them. But she kept her eyes on her and cooed in a gruff yet sensual murmur, "Time for bed, yeah?"

"Umm, now?" Mali whispered and bit her lip as she caught her drift, mystified by her demeanor but mesmerized all the same as she gaped at her through low, pink-painted eyelids and held her girlfriend's dreamy, blue gaze. She gradually found the strength to rip away from it and return her attention to the camera with an apology to her fans who were probably just as confused as her. Yet when she saw all the comments encouraging and urging her to hurry to bed with Rhea, she felt her cheeks warm up with a blush no one could see before her girlfriend nodded and pressed kisses to them. "Uh, I-I guess we'll try this again tomorrow, y'all? Good night, queens, kings, and my fabulous people in between."

Mali blew a kiss to the lens with a final glance at the comments full of every horny emoji there was as she tapped her screen to end the livestream. "Did you sneak some of my wine?! What's gotten into you?" she asked with a giddy grin as Rhea wrapped her arms around her waist to squeeze her from behind her with more kisses on her nape that tickled, making a slight giggle jump out of her. 

"Nope. I just didn't want to wait three hours for you to wrap it up. And I surely didn't want to wait 'til I got back from work to do this..." she replied with her hand slipping down Mali's tummy, the silk fabric of her pajamas making it easy for her touch to also slip beneath the hem. She wasn't wearing panties...which made her girlfriend's soft, wandering fingers sink right between her lower lips, warm and slick from Rhea's kisses. "Ah, my baby...damn near drippin' and we haven't made it to the bed yet."

"It's...your fault. Mmmm. Impatient ass." Mali's lips parted with a smirk and a hitched breath as a moan escaped them when Rhea delicately rubbed her middle fingers up and down her wet slit before she coated her clit with twirls that made her whine. She gripped the edge of the coffee table as her head fell back onto Rhea's shoulder, letting her hips lightly rock against her palm as their lips met for a heavy kiss.

"I sure am. And you know what? Fuck the bed. Get on the couch. On your hands and knees."

Mali didn't have enough time to follow Rhea's demand as her girlfriend then scooped her up into her arms to rest her on the couch in the position she needed to have her round, thick ass in her face. She smoothed her hands over it, kissing the silk before rolling it down her thighs to hit the rug next to her knees. Rhea's lips kissed her soft skin then, her softer hands squeezing and parting her cheeks to unveil her wet, brown, and pink lips she took her time kissing, too. 

Mali couldn't help but roll her hips to catch the long, greedy flicks of Rhea's tongue as she lapped up her nectar that spilled down to her thighs and mound touched with hair light and soft like peach fuzz. Her girlfriend's fingertips grazed that fuzz with teasing strokes before she glazed them over her slippery, tender clit, making Mali cry out to her—especially when she used her other fingers to spread her just a bit more so she could glaze her tongue over her little hole. 

"Unnhh, shit...mmm, you like how this pussy taste, baby?" Mali reached a hand around to lace her fingers in the silky hair on the back of Rhea's head, trying to taunt her yet her voice cracked with a whine when Rhea slowly thrust her tongue inside her.

"Damn right. And you thought you could keep me waitin'." Rhea playfully spanked her ass and breathed a moan that touched Mali's wet folds and made them spasm. "Ooh. I wish you could see how sexy that looked...your pussy all juicy and twitchin' for me. Actually..."

She pulled her delicious touch away and Mali pouted, craning her neck to fuss at her. Yet she gasped at her instead, studying Rhea tapping her phone still perched on the coffee table behind them. Mali saw her head peeking from behind her ass on the screen before Rhea's head floated into the frame with more kisses on her cheeks that led to her glistening pussy. And when Rhea hid her fingers between her thighs to tease her clit again and hold her lips open, she saw how she twitched when the tip of her tongue lazily prodded and pushed back inside her.

Mali let out a long whimper that filled the room, her eyes fixed on the lens, on them as she was hypnotized by the sight of Rhea tongue-fucking her—entranced by the feel of it, too, as her knees felt weak with a slow-burning orgasm that grew hotter and hotter around her girlfriend's tongue until she couldn't contain the flames any longer.

"Right there, baby...unhhh, I'm...I'm 'bout to cum for you." Mali wanted to bury her face in the cushions to hide the loud, rasping squeals that erupted from her as she came and gushed, but she couldn't look away from how captivating they looked on camera. Her gaze met Rhea's on the screen who also watched them, pulling back to admire how she made her girlfriend squirt as her pussy hole fluttered.

"That's my pretty baby. So fuckin' pretty..." Rhea groaned with her fingers still wagging over her clit as Mali's spilled down her wrist. "Love makin' you cum, baby...love how your cum tastes..." She then swirled her long tongue into Mali's twitching, wet mess to make out with it, make her dribble onto her chin, make her louder, and make her convulse harder.

"Ffffuck, I love your mouth...I love you," Mali managed to moan as her heated bliss threatened to snatch her voice away. She caught her girlfriend's eye again as she licked her lips and caressed her thigh with jet-black nails that had a sheen from more than her top coat.

"Yeah? Mami loves you more," Rhea replied with a sultry smirk and kiss on her thigh. She then licked the spot where she accidentally smudged Mali's nectar before gathering it from her chin, too, unhurriedly licking her fingers one by one while peering into the lens with those dreamy eyes. She used those fingers to then stop the recording, turning to Mali who wearily flopped onto her side to add with a raised, arched eyebrow, "Ready for bed for real this time, baby?"

"Only if you are...'cause where in the world did that come from?" Mali panted, still shocked that her usually reserved-off-camera girlfriend turned into a thot-on-camera tonight. It plastered a sleepy grin on her face as she knew Rhea to be a thot for her eyes only, save for those occasional moments she liked to tantalize her fans while in character on television.

"I told you, babe. I wasn't gonna wait a week to eat that pretty pussy," Rhea purred as her hand slid up Mali's bare thigh and made her tremble. 

"You must wanna watch the playback while you're on the plane," she said with a little giggle when Rhea tickled her belly with her prying fingertips.

"Yeah, I do. I like a good movie to lose myself in..." she replied with her own giggle when Mali reached for her to pull her on top of her. 

Their mouths came together for a sweet kiss that Mali lost herself in, yet when Rhea's hand slid around her throat with a lusciously tight grip, her eyes flitted open with a moan as her girlfriend mumbled onto her lips, "...Which is why we're nowhere close to done yet, baby."

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Thanks for reading! 💜

🫶🏾 Tagging: @wrestlingprincess80 @visionarymode @theninthwonder @cyberdejos2 @southerngirl41 @babybatlover @rhea-ripley @seeingstarkss @alyyaanna @afterdarkprincess @domripley @sassginaswanmills @woahdude9481 @dayjlovesromance @bloodripleygal @annoyedkayah2395 @empressdede

[iloveyouinred]

from your broken heart reader fic, if she turns out to be pregnant.... who is going to be the father?

𓇬♡ | Note: I would like to think that she use contraceptive, because she has an agreement with her husband to focus on pursuing her career. So she is most likely won't get pregnant. But if incident does happen, then i don't know either.. who do you think will be the father? Well let's leave it to your imagination;)

Genshin Man With Their Pregnant Wife

Ft. Diluc, Kaveh, Alhaitham, + Kaeya

Diluc, needless to say, is an overprotective husband. It got severe since the day you announced that you are pregnant to the red haired man. In his head, he instantly labels you as super fragile. Everytime you decide to stand up and walk-even to the nearest place like the bathroom -he will take you by your hand, securing it in a firm grip, as if you will fall any second. When you decided to walk under the sun, he will accompany you. Your hand in his gentle yet firm grip, and an umbrella over your head. A light rain suddenly falls? Worry not he got you covered with his coat and the previous umbrella. Though he will prefer you to be in the warmth of your shared house, relaxing yourself in a nice bath that the maid has prepared for you. You might crave a certain food, and it will be right in front of you as soon as you speak. He makes sure that you got all you need.

Diluc has always give you the princess treatment, but this time it has gone to the level where you won't need to lift a single finger. He will be doing everything for you or giving the task to the maid when he can't be by your side for some sort of important business- in which he strongly condemns to do so. Despite all that, what reassures you the most is his gentle touch, the way he secure you from any given danger- puddles on the winery garden, for one. You will catch him staring at you from time to time. Just like now when you are reading some book, wind blows your hair slightly as rays of orange highlighting your figure, he will find himself immers on this view of you. Gentle eyes and sometimes soft smile adorning his lips. Diluc feels like you might be the best thing ever happen to him. And he can't imagine his life without you in it anymore.

"Luc?" You were startled by his sudden embrace. His hand around you waist to pull you closer as he kiss the top of your head. You look up at him to see him staring back with eye full of adoration. The book you just read left forgoten on you lap as he inch closer, meeting your lips in one soft kiss. You will never love sunset more than now, indulging in your lover embrace as the sun goes down.

Kaveh will be more enthusiastic than you yourself. First time you tell him you are pregnant he will be overjoyed with tears. It's like you two are an old couple who haven't been blessed by a child for years. It's not an exaggeration. You need to tell him to breathe since he starts to have difficulty breathing trying to process the sudden struck of happiness, while asking you if this is real, and not one of your practical jokes again. But once he calms down, Kaveh will trap you in a warm hug, he will cup your face and shower it with little kisses. You won't believe your eyes when a few days later, your man is already busying himself with that one room that is always left empty by him- 'For future purpose', he claims.

You stop at the door, hand leaning on its frame. Your eyes wander around the room that has changed overnight. The interior is not finished yet, but most of it has been filled with baby related stuff that aligned in the same symmetrical way your house does. As he finished moving the baby cradle, he noticed you standing at the door, meeting his own eyes with a few blink. He hurriedly guided you in by hand, with his other resting on your waist, giving a gentle push as you walked.

"Kaveh.. When did you buy all this?" You throw him a questioning gaze. He can't help but smile at the amazement in your voice. Small chuckle escaped his lips, light and gentle to your ear. "I just place the order after you tell me about our baby." Which is not even a month old but well, let the man dream. He will make sure to make the best bedroom for your baby. And you listen as he explains why and how he chose every object in the room. His enthusiastic smile and the passion in his eyes as he explained how the cradle he chose was not only of high quality in sense of comfort and safety, but also aesthetically pleasing in its efficient design. You couldn't help but feel your lips curl up, joy bubbling in your heart as you feel how enthusiastic he is in this.

Just don't expect him to stop bringing you little trinkets from his journey. It was his usual routine. But it has become more frequent now, since he decided to take commissions that don't require him to stay away from home for too long. Every little thing, like the food on the new stall he passes, until cute clothes that will come in handy with your growing pregnancy. He will keep track on how your body change, sometimes he will say the baby grows bigger while he is away completing yet another commission that take him few days. He will whine on how he is missing the progress of your baby growth- although just a few day pass since he last touch your belly. You will often have him close the side of his head on your belly, listening to whatever sound it might make. He is basically talking to the fetus about every little thing he encounter that day. And he will say how happy he will be if they grow up healthy.

"I can't wait." He says in a tone that paint smile on your face. You are stroking his hair as he looks up at you, still kneeling in front of your belly with a smile. He did say he want the baby to look like you, but if anything, you want your baby to have their father's sweet smile.

Alhaitham will make sure you and your baby are both healthy. He basically built a new routine for you to walk under the morning sun. He will wake you up every morning to accompany you on walk, feeling the fresh air of Sumeru city. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner is prepared with calculated nutrients. You will be most content and happy, healthy body and all- he said it keeps depression away. When you act like a spoiled brat, asking for things and deciding you dislike it before asking for another. Instead of his usual nag, he will oblige to every one of your most ridiculous demands. Not bathing an eye as he wears the pink girly apron with frills and bows at your request. 'To brighten the mood', you say. You giggles and he sighs in response.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?" The corner of his lips tucked up a bit when he watched your amused grin. "Just don't forget to fulfil your promise. Now eat the vegetables." He lift a spoon of your half eaten meal to your lips and you take it. Face emitting clear emotion of disgust. It's his turn to be amused. Watching you whine while stomaching the nutritious meal he prepared. You might dislike some of it but you trust that he is giving the best thing for you and the baby. In the night, he will read a story for your baby, laying beside you after he tucked a blanket over both of you. He is facing you with one hand sustaining his head, while other clutching a book he is reading. You will watch from your pillow, his eyes scanning every word in the book with brooding look. As if he is giving an important speech and not just reading a children fairy-tale(He almost read a scientific book to your poor baby, if you did not stop him).

"Alhaitham." He stopped reading at your voice. The man look at your expectant eyes, the same one you throw at him everytime you want something.

"What?" He keep his eyes on you. Ensuring that your words will be heard. You throw a sheepish smile at him and he immediately understand. Sigh leave his lips as he close the distance between you two. Giving you a gentle peck on top of your temple. You pout upon realizing he is teasing you. He smiled in amusement, ruffling your hair slightly before going in for a kiss you deserve.

Kaeya's mouth is sweeter than honey. If you search for word of encouragement, he can be your private motivator. His sugary words licks through your ear, leaving no space for any insecurity. He might not be there to acompany you every second in a day. But everyone can tell that he is taking a good care of you. It has been a routine for him to ask you for morning kisses before he goes to work as Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius. Late night dinner and foot message he does for you to relax your body after another day of outing. He will certainly love every second he spent watching you and your belly grow. Throwing praises here and there even when you just finish changing clothes in the morning. Pair of tanned hand circle around your waist, hugging you from behind.

"It's still so early in the morning, where is my pretty wife going to?" He whispers behind your ear, hand stroking circle on your belly.

"Kaeya.. remember the new flower shop I told you about? I am making a quick stop to pick up some Calla lilies." You turn your head to cought a glimpse of his face. But he is quick to steal a quick peck on your lips.

"Alright, come home soon okay?" He retreat, not allowing you to say a word with your startled face. Red spreading on your face as you hastily tucked his clothes, stopping him from leaving.

"What is it, (y/-" You tiptoed to reach on his collar, giving him a kiss which he return earnestly. His hand cupping your face to deepen your kiss. His words is sweet, so was his mouth. You were lost in his sweet kiss, completely forgetting your previous plan. The flowers can wait for a while.

[yanderegrizzsworld]

Psst, heard you were accepting Digital Circus requests so would I happen to request Pomni with a reader who keeps trying to punch the walls and basically punch everything in a desperate attempt to escape?

Also if you do anons then could I be dream anon?

Imagine: Platonic Yandere Pomni with a reader desperate to escape

TW/CW: Mentions of anxiety/paranoia/blood/injuries, implied stalking & implied bullying (not by yandere)

A.N: Psst, from now on you're dream anon

Whether you're a new arrival or not doesn't matter to the jester, she fully understands where your anxiety & fear of this place comes from & sees no reason to judge. She might attempt to explain this world if you were new but it wouldn't do much from her own mind being just as puzzled about it.

Pomni does questions your method of escape. Don't get her wrong, she also wishes to escape from this world that tells her to call it her new home, but compared to how you're going about it, her fear of any future self-inflicted injuries on yourself twist her stomach in ways she'd rather not feel.

The jester nearly breaks out in sweat whenever a sudden, clamorous Pow reaches her ears & immediately runs towards it, reckoning it's you. Don't be surprised when she's around you often, if not by your hip the whole time with her reasoning being that of not wanting you to cause your knuckles to bleed, even though that doesn't seem possible in this world.

Whenever your fist collides with a wall or nearby surface, Pomni swiftly recommends either searching for an exit together or hanging out in her room. Accepting the former leads to her holding onto your wrist the entire time & tugging you away from any surface she considers you might attempt to punch. Accepting the latter is slightly better in which she allows you your space as she strives to talk about anything that comes to mind, though she does keep an eye on your hands just in case.

Whenever questioned for her insistence to constantly be in your presence, Pomni's argue of ensuring you don't get hurt or go mad never falters. Kinger & Zooble don't ruminate on it afterwards, with a slight sarcastic comment from Zooble from time to time; instead of questioning, Gangle & Ragatha regard Pomni's avouchment to your safety rather positively, with Ragatha being much more enthusiastic & probative.

The constant flood of questions & pestering naturally comes from the purple rabbit, whose incessant rejection of personal space & seemingly never-ending strike for getting on other's nerves nearly gives Pomni a headache, even if such a feeling is impossible to feel in the Digital Circus. No matter how many times Pomni drags you away from wherever Jax might be or how many times Ragatha tells him to dial it down if he refuses to stop, the rabbit never fails to pop out of thin air to question Pomni's reasonings & minimize the possibility of a potential exit, though it might come off a bit more impertinent.

The jester often ponders how she hasn't lost it yet, how her paranoia for her new existence & situation didn't lead to her being abstracted & a part of her deems it's because of you. She regards that by always looking after you, ensuring your security & health is in tip-top shape keeps her mind grounded & holding off from snapping at any moment. This thinking however could potentially lead to a almost twisted dependace, she watches over you (distant or close, rarely matters to her) & in return, her sanity stays plenary.

She views it as a win-win situation for the both of you, though it is more a conclusion to comes to on her own rather than something both of you have discussed. Any attempt to hang out with the others alone is futile as Pomni insists to go with you, for your safety of course! & not amount of refusals can/will deter her from at the very least watching over you.