#I could go on but I'm sleep deprived and need to do some actual writing lol

[summertimemusician]

*is rereading the Four Swords Adventures Manga again to refresh self after replaying Pocket Mirror (RPG Maker Game)*

*Almost drops coffee* Oh holy Hylia. Enjel and Shadow could talk.

Created by the person who's basically the main antagonist? Check.

Fifth secret part out of a protagonist split into four? Check.

Is forced to follow after the protagonist in shadow/reflection like fashion and hates every second of it to the point they're willing to lie and manipulate to take their place? Check.

Wants that specifically because they're jealous and never were love or wanted in their life, so they desperately want someone, anyone to look at them like they're worth something, no matter what they have to do for it desperately craving the love they've seen someone else get even if it's not real because they've just taken over/are pretending to be that person? Check.

Dies tragically due to shattering? Sometimes only getting the care they've wanted through that death after being swayed into not fulfilling their original purpose and returning to the protagonist? Triple check.

That or it's the sleep deprivation making me see parallels between two artificial beings created from the shadow of the protagonist and has a strong association with mirrors.

... Now I want a Zelda/Linked Universe Pocket Mirror Au, with Four/Four Swords Link as the protagonist (or Green as the protag) and Shadow in Enjel's role, or maybe Lisette's (though I feel Blue or Vio would be better for Lisette), Vaati can be the Pumpkin King he's dramatic enough for it, though I dunno which colors would best fit Fleta and Harpae. Maybe Link's Father or Dot made the deal this run around? I can absolutely see Shadow describing Four as "Mr.Goody Two Shoes" through a mirror, or any of the endings being played out by them.

[primofate]

Drop the towel wrapped around you and appear naked in front of your Genshin husband

In a nutshell: That old tiktok challenge/prank. In your private, shared home of course.

Warnings: My perpetual warning as a writing mother is that I am sleep deprived. Very VERY sleep deprived. SUGGESTIVE: BORDERING ON NOT SAFE FOR WORK, written on a 10 minute timer please be gentle

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, implied fem!reader

Personal Favourites: Tighnari

Aether

chokes on nothing

"Y-Y-Y/N?! What're you doing?"

Comes up to you and tries to cover you up with the towel again, as if it was a sin to look at you naked in broad daylight.

Full on blush on his face and respectfully tries to look away.

"Don't surprise me like that!"

Seems not to like it but actually likes it too much to the point of getting embarrassed for himself.

Yes he's your husband but is still a precious respectful man

Albedo

Blinks a couple of times but appreciates your beauty and gives your body a slow once over. Chuckles in amusement afterwards.

"Is there a reason for this?"

Just to get his reaction, you admit.

"Well..." starts walking towards you. "I do have higher self-control than most others... but let it be known that I'm far from immune to my..."

Stops in front of you and yet again seems to eat you up with his eyes. "...needs," ends with a suspiciously sweet smile.

Alhaitham

Can't help but be a bit surprised and you can see it by the way his eyebrows go up as soon as the towel hits the floor.

Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, as if hesitating, which is really strange for someone like him.

"...Is this the part where I sweep you off your feet and carry you to our room?" there's a bit of amusement in his tone. Stands to walk over to you.

Places a hand on your waist.

"Cause I can guarantee you that we DON'T need to be in our bedroom for things to happen...but you knew that already, right?"

Ayato

Quirks his eyebrows up, amused smile appearing on his face.

"I must say, this is a lovely surprise,"

Traces your figure with his eyes. Then approaches you to hold your waist and dip in to kiss your neck softly.

"How could I ever resist, my love, when you're standing in front of me in all your magnificence?"

Takes the longest time just admiring and basking in your beauty, tracing every little part of your skin.

Baizhu

Lets pretend the snake ain't here okay?

Does a double take.

"Y/N, first off, you'll get a cold,"

Pushes his spectacles up and gives you a once over.

"Second, you'll give me a heart attack,"

Beckons you over gently with his hand. "Come over, I suppose it's been a while since...I've done a full body check,"

Hides a grin.

Cyno

Blankly looks at you and is still processing what is happening

"Y/N? Is this... Did I do something?"

Is so suspicious that this was some kind of trap.

You tell him its simply to get a reaction out of him.

Immediately shoots out of his seat and catches your wrist.

"Then...Is it my turn to get one out of you? There's several ways to do that...and I know your favourite ones,"

Diluc

Eyes follow the towel down to the floor and head snaps back up to blink at the sight in front of him. Recovers quickly.

Chuckles as he stands and walks over. Picks up the towel and drapes it around your shoulders. "Only because it's quite chilly tonight,"

but still ends up inching the towel off your shoulder, tracing your collarbone. "Although, as your husband, I suppose it IS my job to keep you warm... So how would you like it today, love?"

Itto

"WHOA!" by instinct covers his eyes with his hands but his fingers are actually splayed apart so he can totally see through the gaps

Feels himself getting aroused

I mean the guy gets turned on even just at the sight of your neck

Suddenly stands and walks over to you, easily hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and makes a beeline to your shared room.

"You're asking for it Y/N!"

Kaeya

"Oho?"

Sits back and relaxes, he doesn't really know what he was expecting. Some type of show maybe. "What's this? Finally giving me that lap dance you owe me, snowflake?"

Laughs but you're incredibly flustered at the suggestion.

Beckons you over and grabs you by the waist to sit on his lap.

"Feel that?" he whispers in your ear.

Oh you feel it alright, pressing at your upper thigh.

"Now whose fault is that? You'll have to do something about it now, love,"

Kaveh

"Archons!"

Looks away with a blush on his cheeks.

"Put something on!"

Yes he's seen you naked before, you're married, but the guy's always flustered in unexpected events.

You provoke him further by coming over, sitting sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Y/N!" He looks down at you and can't help but look at your nakedness in full and close view.

Gulps but starts to feel his body heat up, his hands suddenly, assertively planting themselves on your waist as he meets your eyes. "I don't care what you say about yourself, but know that you're the only one who takes me from 0 to a 100 in a second,"

Kazuha

"Y/N?" Chuckles nervously and takes in the sight of your body.

Smiles at you and takes your hand to kiss the back of it.

"I've seen you countless of times... Each time, I'm reminded by how fortunate I am that you chose me to take care of you,"

Caresses your cheek all the way down to your jawline. "You're beautiful, Y/N,"

He has the most tender and gentle look on his face, but its mixed with a passion that you've never seen on anyone before. "Let me show you how much I love you, dear,"

Neuvillette

Eyebrows twitches upwards in surprise. Has no clue what to do in this new situation.

He doesn't say anything but is most definitely enjoying the view of your body. You see his jaw tense up, as if he's clenching his teeth.

"Ahem," he starts. Then seems to have the most trouble prying his eyes away to meet your gaze. "Is this...perhaps another way to tell me... that you would like some attention?"

You say not really and just wanted to see how he would react.

"Ah," he lets out, as if understanding and as if the conversation has ended.

A moment of silence passes and you're starting to wonder if that was all he was going to do. But he then stands and places a gentle hand on your bare waist. "...So you're simply doing it, as people would say, 'for fun'?"

He asks, and you say yes innocently. He smiles a bit and has another hand cupping your face and thumbing your lips. "I see," breathes out slowly.

"Unfortunately, for your actions, the Iudex feels that a punishment is in order,"

Scaramouche

Raises one eyebrow as if he's bored. Then smirks.

"If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask," pulls you by the waist and makes you straddle him "But this is good too,"

Hands actually start to grope you up and down. Will fondle and squeeze in private places immediately.

"What? Startin' to feel good? S'what you get when you play games with me,"

will smack your butt the first chance he gets

Tartaglia

Immediately jumps up and in an automatic daze, eyes glued to his favourite parts, trudges towards you and attempts to bury himself in softness.

You quickly stop him and in turn HE quickly stops you. Hands easily bunching your wrists up together and angling them upwards above your head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins down at you. "Someone's being naughty,"

You complain that he reacts too fast.

Laughs, but his hand starts to unbuckle his pants and there's a dark look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm just being naughty back. When you want something, Y/N, believe it when I say I'll GIVE it to you,"

Tighnari

ear twitches. Tail swishes back and forth. Does not show any expression except slight curiosity.

"What's the occasion?"

You tell him that you just wanted to see his reaction.

He hums and nods slowly, like processing some type of complicated information.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute,"

You ask him where he's going and you're a bit upset at the lack of response from him.

He chuckles and returns to you, tail angling upwards in an attempt to wrap and brush against your waist. Takes your hand, presses your wrist against his lips and seems to take a slow breath in.

"I'm merely clearing off my schedule for today. Now, be patient, I'll be back,"

Wriothesley

Almost spits out his drink but gulps it all down instead.

Eyes widen a fraction at the sudden act but his hand is already loosening his tie.

"Wait right there precious," chuckles while he says this, tie already falling to the ground, now unbuttoning his vest. At the same time walks over to you urgently as if you're going to disappear but laughs nervously while he's at it.

"I swear you'll be the death of me,"

Looks like he's going to pounce on you but when he reaches you he only gives you a chaste kiss, as if asking for permission first.

You suddenly remind him that he has a LOT of things to do today, appointments and all.

Actually barks out a quick laugh. "You're not really expecting me to walk out now? As far as I'm concerned," pulls you flush against him and kisses your jaw "The only thing I need to do today is you,"

Xiao

"Wh-Wh-What do you think you're doing?!"

caught unprepared. Crosses his arms and looks away. Pretends he's uninterested but his eyes still dart back to look at you.

You ask him if he likes what he sees.

He now completely looks away from you. A few seconds pass and when he turns his head back to look at you there's now a carnal look in his eyes.

He walks towards you slowly and captures your chin to tilt it up. Looks down at you as if he hasn't eaten a meal in days.

"...When I'm done with you tonight you'll get your answer,"

Zhongli

Chuckles. Amused.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"

You shrug and even do a turn for him. He watches you carefully and takes in the image in front of him.

Smiles and strides over towards you. "Truly a magnificent sight," brushes his fingers against your neck

His eyes trail downwards and isn't shy about looking at your body. "Might I remind you my dear, my stamina surpasses that of a normal human," he smiles at you sincerely.

You tell him that you're well aware. He just chuckles again.

"Then you know well what'll come next,"

End

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[nervouseden]

God Among Men.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: After a stressful mission, your super soldier boyfriend needs you... This is literal trash. I apologize.

Warnings: SMUT. Brief mention of religious stuff. Worshipping. Misuse of religious terms. Collar and leash (it's really only mentioned like once or twice). Gender neutral reader. Blowjob. Face fucking. Finger sucking. Bucky Barnes (he's a warning). Metal arm (kink). A tad bit of hair pulling. Rough blowjob. Reader isn't the best at communicating. Praise. Some brief degradation. Voice kink (because who couldn't love that sweet baritone?). Brief mention of Shuri and Wakanda. Sir kink. Tears. Choking (from bj). Deep throating. Dom Bucky. Sub reader. Bucky's kinda rough. But also super sweet and concerned. Use of safe signal(?) like a safe word but nonverbal. Brief after care. Loosely Implied fingering/penetration afterwards. Like zero plot. Porn without Plot/Plot? What plot? Mildly dubious consent (not really, but I just want to be safe with my warnings!)

Please comment if you think I missed anything!

A/N: This is like my second or third time writing actual smut, please give me grace— Also I had this idea while sleep deprived and I'm currently stuck in artists/writers block so it's probably not my best work. But, I tried. This was written on my phone and not proofread, so I do apologize for any and all mistakes/typos.

A/N #2: I have absolutely nothing against any religions or religious people, and this is not meant to offend or target anybody in any way, shape, or form!

I do not own any characters mentioned in this story or the gif.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+!!! MINORS AND PEARL CLUTCHERS PLEASE DNI!!!

You were never a very religious person, having loose beliefs that you didn't necessarily align with anything specific, and you were fine with that, but that all changed one day, and in the way you least expected it. The day you first hooked up with Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes, or, as you knew him, Bucky, your best friend. You swear that night you might've been to Heaven, or Valhalla, or maybe even reached Nirvana, but whatever it was, it was caused by the super soldier Avenger fucking you into oblivion, with a godly body and otherworldly skills. Not only does he look like some mythical god, but he has the skills and the strength of one too. A god among men.

Bucky is a complicated man; He doesn't talk much, but once you get him going, he could talk to you for hours. He is tall and broad, dark and brooding, with a glare that could kill, but also sweet and soft, caring and considerate, with a smile that makes you weak in the knees... So, when your relationship evolved into something sexual, it wasn't a surprise when his prowess matched his godly looks. His quick wit matched by his skilled tongue. Strong hands matched with his (surprisingly) nimble fingers. He's also a kinky mother fucker.

Today, after Bucky got back from a rough, week long mission, apparently most of the team getting their asses kicked, you found yourself on your knees in front of him, naked, wearing nothing back a black leather collar and a silver chainlink leash, your head resting on his lap as he gently pets your cheek with his flesh hand.

"Doll," Bucky's voice is low, lower than usual, and it sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, shocking your core.

"Yes, sir?" Your voice is soft, quiet, and shaky, a mix of nervousness, arousal, and hours of teasing from this man, this god, making you weak, your voice a minute version of it's usual sound, making Bucky chuckle.

You look up at him through heavy eyelids, your eyes raking up his body hungrily; He's wearing black sweatpants, no shirt, and you're not entirely sure about boxers. His long hair is tousled, the dark locks resting on his broad shoulders, the otherworldly muscles rippling under his skin covered in scars, his normally bright blue eyes darkened to an almost eerie tungsten blue. He's a literal god. The epitome of divinity.

"You've been so good~" Bucky practically purrs, and you already feel your abdomen tightening. "But not good enough."

Well shit.

You're definitely not getting what you want tonight.

"Talk to me, Kätzchen. Tell me what you're thinkin' about." You hesitate, but you know better than to directly disobey.

"I..." You look down, biting your lip. "I was thinking about you... H-How beautiful you are, James..."

Bucky smirks. This wasn't what he was expecting. "Oh?"

You simply nod. "Do elaborate, Kätzchen." Bucky quirks a brow, and you fight the urge to squirm in embarrassment.

"Y-You..." You sigh, deciding to bite the bullet. What's the worst that could happen? He laughs at you and uses it against you? That'd suck... but it would be a lot worse if you didn't speak. Those are always back. You don't want another spanking...and definitely not the crop. Yeah, no, that'd be bad. Better spit it out.

"You're fuckin' beautiful..." You practically whimper, and Bucky smirks.

"I know you've got more than that, sweetness." Bucky teases, and you know he's right. He's always right... It's unfair. How can a man possibly be so attractive and smart? You're starting to think he might actually be a higher power. "C'mon, doll, don't make me hit it outta ya."

Shit. That's a threat. "You're... You're a god among men, Sir... Divinity in itself... Crafted from the finest of marbles known to man... I want to submit everything I have to you."

Bucky simply smirks.

Uh oh.

"Is that so, Kätzchen?" You swallow hard, nodding, watching his eyes stare into yours with an intensity that could burn you to the ground. Yup. Definitely a god.

"Y-Yes, Sir... I... You are my god, James..." Oops. Normally Bucky doesn't take kindly to being called his name during scenes, but for some reason, he just smirks and lets it slide. That's different.

"I want my body to be your altar, your temple, your church... I am your devotee..." You whisper softly, your voice shaky and almost nervous, scared, although you're unsure what you're scared of.

"Darling..." Bucky growls, his pupils dilated so much you can barely see the ring of blue, his vibranium hand clenching on lap, his breathing picking up, that beautiful, chiseled chest rising and falling faster by the second, sweat starting to bead on his skin... You did that?

"You have such pretty lips, yet such nasty words..."

Bucky's Vibranium hand moves to the back of your neck suddenly, grabbing you by the nape of it, pushing your face into his clothed crotch, allowing you to feel the feverish heat, the wet spot on his sweats, and the rock that is his cock. "I'm not gonna last long if you keep sayin' shit like that, doll."

You whimper. Loudly. Pathetically. Lewdly. What the fuck else are you supposed to do? You just mentally brought THE Sargeant James Barnes to his knees from just a few sentences, you don't know whether to be terrified or proud... But, either way, you're not given much time to decipher how you feel, as Bucky starts to rub the side of your cheek against his strained length, the rough cotton of his sweatpants irritating your sweat shined cheeks.

"You're gonna be a good little devotee. You're gonna listen, you're gonna do as told, and you're gonna take what I give you, like a good cock slut."

Bucky's voice is a deep, dangerous growl, the sound rumbling through his chest, rolling down his abdomen and vibrating through him and into you, shooting electricity through your body, your nerves immediately on fire, your thighs quaking, your mind reeling into the abyss of lust.

"Aren't you, Kätzchen?" Bucky says with a groan, looking at you expectantly, a dark smirk on his face.

"Y-Yes, Sir... I will... I'll b-be good..." You whimper out, look up at him with doe eyes, fighting the urge to look down as he slides his sweatpants to his ankles, tossing them aside.

Bucky gently cups your chin with his vibranium hand, the dark metal shining in the dimly lit room as he puts his thumb against your lips, grinning at the feeling. "Open."

You immediately do as told, parting your lips, slowly swirling your warm tongue around his thumb as he slides the cool metal into your mouth, causing Bucky to groan sorry... It's moments like these when Bucky is most grateful to Shuri for creating touch sensors in the arm, allowing him to feel everything you do to his Vibranium arm... Wakandan technology truly is incredible.

"That's a good little whore..." Bucky groans as he uses his thumb in your mouth to tilt your head down, your eyes widening as they meet the sight of Bucky's cock.

Huh. He wasn't wearing any boxers.

"Let this be your first sacrament, devotee." Bucky chuckled.

Long. Impressive. Intimidating. Yet another reason you're starting to think he might actually be a god. No matter how many times you see it, swallow it, and take it, it's always just as intimidating as the first time. His cock is tall, curving slightly as it goes up, getting redder until it gets to the almost purple tip, your hand barely able to wrap around the girth, one large vein going from the shaft to the tip, where creamy pre-cum is beading. You might as well be salivating...and shaking in fear.

"C'mon, doll, I know you can take it." Bucky purred, wrapping his vibranium hand in your hair, guiding your face to rub against his length. It's almost humiliating. But it's also beyond arousing.

"Yes, sir." You mutter softly, licking your lips, raising your head when Bucky loosens his grip on your hair. You spit on the head of Bucky's cock, causing it to twitch where it stands, before gently wrapping your mouth around the tip, your tongue swirling around the tip, teasing the slit, causing Bucky to groan.

"Your god is losing patience, Kätzchen." Bucky growls, before tightening his vibranium hand in your hair, violently pushing your head down his cock, his length forcefully sliding down your velvety throat, only stopping when your nose is flush with his pelvic bone, groaning as he revels in the feeling, hissing as his head falls back in pleasure. "Shiiiit— So warm, Kätzchen...like fuckin' silk, doll..."

To nobody's surprise, you choke, choke hard, coughing around Bucky's member, who simply enjoys the way your throat constricts when you do so. Tears quickly form, as you try to focus on relaxing your throat and taking deep breaths in through your nose, but are quickly cut off as Bucky pulls your hair back, sliding your mouth off his length before pushing your head back down.

"Fuckin' perfect... gorgeous little devotee..." Bucky groans, starting to roll his hips as he continues to roughly guide your head up and down his cock, face fucking you as you cry and choke. Yup. You definitely fucked up calling him James.

Bucky had been tense since he texted you from the Quinjet, so when he starts to throb in your mouth rather than usual, you're not necessarily surprised, that mission really took a toll on him. You hollow your cheeks, and start gently scraping your teeth against Bucky's length as he continues to thrust into your face, his balls slapping against your chin with every snap of his strong hips.

"That's it, Kätzchen, worship me, your fuckin' god-"

Fuck, you were dizzy.

Your eyes start to roll back, head feeling fuzzy, your body seeming heavier, the restricted intake of oxygen starting to get to you, as more tears fall, but being the absolute bitch you are for Bucky, you're determined to make him cum before taking a breather.

"C'mon, babydoll, I'm so close... Lemme cum in your pretty little mouth... Let me desecrate the perfect altar that is you..." He groans, his hips snapping harder, shuddering at your teeth scraping his skin, only to be soothed by your hollowed cheeks and hot throat.

Your vision was starting to get fuzzy around the edges, but you still didn't communicate your need to breathe... Instead, you move your hands up to cup his heavy balls, massaging them roughly as you suck harder at his length.

That was all it took.

"Fuck!"

Bucky growls, the sound dark and primal, sending jolts of pleasure to your deprived body, his flesh hand joining his vibranium one in your hair, holding you uncomfortably flush to his skin as his cock throbs, pulsing rapidly as rope after rope of hot cum spills down your throat, your hands still massaging his balls as they empty into you, your muscles working overtime to swallow it all... Since being with him, you found that super soldiers have loads like damn fire hydrants. Not that you're complaining. Usually.

"Baby... Ughhh—" You had expected Bucky to pull you off his cock once he finished, but he didn't, instead he held you flat to his pelvis, basking in the feeling of your hot, velvet throat surrounding him, groaning and growling in pleasure.

You couldn't do it. Your vision was completely blurred, tears still falling, your feelings like concrete, sweat pouring down you, your mind fogged like shower glass. You take your right hand, tapping your index, middle, and ring finger on his thigh three consecutive times.

He immediately pulls your head off his length, pulling you up to his lap as you cough and suck in heavy breaths.

"Doll? Doll, are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Bucky asks hurriedly, his vibranium hand holding you close to him and rubbing your back, while his flesh hand gently holds your face. "Darling, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

It takes you a few moments to process his words, as they sounded more like mumbles from underwater at first. But, as your vision cleared, your tears stopped, the fogginess left your mind, and your breathing started regulating, you finally registered his words and nodded yes. "Y-Yeah... I- I'm fine..." You murmur with a raspy voice, your throat scratchy from the rough blowjob.

Bucky sighed in relief, brushing away your tears with his flesh hand, peppering kisses on your face. "Alright..." He didn't sound too convinced, worried he hurt you, but decided to focus on cleaning you up and caring for you.

He grabbed the pack of baby wipes from the table next to the chair you two are on, taking one out, gently wiping your flushed face clean of the saliva, sweat, cum, and tears. He then opened a bottle of water, gently holding it to your lips. "Have some water, baby." He murmurs as he helps you take small sips, putting it down after about ¼ of the bottle is gone.

"There you go, Kätzchen...You did so good, I'm so damn proud of you, love." Bucky praised softly, pulling you closer to his chest and rocking side to side gently.

"Th-Thank you..." You murmur quietly, your voice still a little raspy, as you tuck your head in Bucky's neck, your sweat covered bodies moulding together, as Bucky's flesh hand slowly creeps down to your sex. "Time for your reward."

[remember-the-fanfics]

Ask 'I very much enjoy the whole Gen z Overlord thing, I have been wondering you can do a what would they do when they meet Lucifer in the hotel. It interesting when they see how different he is to what they've been told of him.'

By @darkwrath32

During Dad beat Dad

Trying to write the whole episode, let's see how long it works out..

Slightly rush at the end

-

(Y/n) sat on the couch while watching Charlie theorize, well they aren't actually sure what she's doing exactly anymore.

"Charmander, I think it's time rest." Said (Y/n). Vaggie had ask them to help Charlie with figuring out the redemption plan as (Y/n) is the only Overlord trying to help with it, they agreed not knowing Charlie wasn't going to go to bed anytime soon.

"You can go to bed, (Y/n). I got the handled." Said Charlie, looking at (Y/n).

"Yeah, no. Vaggie will be super upset at me if I just went to bed." They said, getting up heading to the kitchen. "Plus I personally think the best time to think is the middle of the night. I also enjoy helping you with whatever we're doing because I've lost track. You want coffee?"

"Yes please, I'll explain to you when you get back."

-

"Charlie? (Y/N)?" Said Vaggie seeing the two standing infront of Charlie's planning board with a bunch of paper and string attached and to the side a few empty coffee cups and energy drink cans are on a table and floor.

"I'm just not quite understanding why it's not working. Okay, okay, think Charlie. Think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think. Okay if I do this, it's going to be-" Charlie said, panic in her voice. "I have trust falls every single morning-."

"With who? And why?" Said (Y/n) in a less panicked voice. "I can only see you doing it with Vaggie." Both of the demons look like a mess and that they obviously didn't sleep.

"Yikes." Said Angel Dust.

"Come on, come on, come on, come on." Said Charlie when (Y/n) noticed the crowed behind them, holding a ball of string with some of it in their mouth.

"Charlie? Sweetie? You uh, you good?" Asked Vaggie, Charlie looked back with sleep deprived look while holding a piece of paper. "(Y/n) this isn't what I ment by help her." Vaggie told the young overlord, who just shrugged.

"Nope! No, not really. Ha ha, I've been up all night trying to figure out why the hotel isn't working." Charlie said, crushing the paper in her hands.

"We've done trust falls and sharing our feeling which still ew." Said (Y/n), bitting the string in their mouth off the ball.

"And now we only have a month before the angel come-." Charlie said before laughing in her demonic form before turning back. "At this rate-."

"May it's time-"

"NO."

"-to ask-"

Charlie getting close to Vaggies face and holding her checks before saying "DON'T SAY IT."

"-your dad." Vaggie finished saying and Charlie just groaned. "Charlie, I know you don't want to but we need every advantage we can get."

"He let the extermination happen to begin with. They just had a meeting and said, "Go ahead and kill everyone"- Wait, that's it!" Charlie suddenly realized something.

"Kill everyone?" Questioned Vaggie.

"Say sike." Said (Y/n).

"No! He could get me a meeting with Heaven!" Said Charlie.

"Boo! It sucked last time! Adam is a dick!" Said (Y/n).

"He was being an asshole but he isn't in charge of all of Heaven. We could go to the top. There's sure to be some angels who will listen." Charlie said, getting out her phone but hesitant on calling.

"What's the holdup? You got daddy issues?" Asked Husk.

"Doesn't everyone?" Said (Y/n), earning looks. "Okay, well then must be a generation thing then."

"No, we just have never been close. After he and mom split, he never really wanted to see me. He calls, sometimes, but only if he's bored or like needs me to do something." Charlie answered.

"Daddy issues." Said Husk and (Y/n), with one being more quiet about it.

"Well I'd like to meet the big dick in charge." Angel Dust said.

"The ultimate bad boy." Said Niffty before laughing and while holding a knife that Angel Dust quickly took away. "I bet he's scary."

"Wait, who is Charlie's dad?" Asked (Y/n) when Charlie decided to call.

"How the fuck do you not know? Her last name is Morningstar!" Said Angel Dust.

"Well I know she's a princess and Morningstar is a weapon." Said (Y/n).

"Toots, who would be the big dick in charge of Hell?"

"The devil?" Said (Y/n) before it clicked in their head. "Oh shit!"

Angle Dust and Husk laughed at their reaction.

"How have you not know yet?" Asked Husk. "You're an Overlord, you got to know politics in hell for that."

"I know I'm just busy making sure my area is taken care off and then helping here, I guess I never had time to draw the connection." Said (Y/n). "I didn't know the devil had a last name! Or a child!"

"He has a first name too."

"Oh shut up."

"Welp, we have an hour until he gets here." Said Charlie interrupting the conversation.

Vaggie then assigned everyone to do something and everyone scattered.

-

(Y/n) stood next to Angel Dust while he was doing his makeup while sitting on the table. Angel Dust finished and got scared by Niffty who was just staring at him, (Y/n) laughed.

"Come on, my dear. As the other one sponsoring the hotel, we both have to be front and center when he shows up." Said Alastor before guiding (Y/n) to stand beside the door next to him.

"Okay everyone, it's showtime." Charlie said before opening the door to a shorter blond hair demon with fancy attire.

"Charlie!!"

"Hey, Da-." Charlie didn't get to finish before getting hugged really tight by her Dad.

"He's so short." (Y/n) whispered to Alastor, earning a soft chuckle from the demon.

"Oh its so good to see you. Haha!"

"It's uh, good to see you too, Dad." Said Charlie before he finally put her down. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!"

KeeKee showed up along with Razzle and Dazzle to greet him and Lucifer, as (Y/n) finally remembered, greeted them and slight threat to Razzle and Dazzle to keep protecting Charlie.

"Wow! This place sure looks, uh...uh huh yah uh huh...It's got a lot of character!" Said Lucifer looking around the hotel before catching sight of the bar. "OH, what in the unholy hell is that?!"

"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?" Said Alastor, leaving (Y/n) and appearing next to Angel Dust.

"And who are you?" Lucifer asked, Alastor with a flare of the dramatic reappeared behind Lucifer.

"Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure." Shaking Lucifer cane before wiping his hand off on his jacket. "It's nice to finally put a face to the name. Like my colleague said you are much shorter in real life." Panicked (Y/n) quickly got next to Alastor.

"Excuse him, I did not say those exact words." (Y/n) said, nudging Alastor. "But I'm (Y/n), pleasure to meet you."

"Who is this? Who is this man and child? Are you the bellhops?"

"Aha! No! I am the co-host of the hotel. You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast." Said Alastor.

"Not a kid, I'm co-manager slash other host slash sort of guest, usually when the others are busy. You probably haven't heard of me." Said (Y/n), copying Alastors introduction, shaking Lucifer's hand.

"Atleast this one has manners." Said Lucifer. "And nope havent heard of you! I guess that's why Charlie called it the Has-been Hotel, ahaha." (Y/n) quickly moved back away from the two.

"Ha ha ha. It was actually my idea."

"Ahaha. Well, it's not very clever."

"Ha ha! Fuck you." Alastor said before Charlie got in-between the two.

"Okay! Okay, anyway. Dad, look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings! Without Alastor or (Y/n), we wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much."

"Charlie has a very unique vision. I am happy to fulfil her bizarre requests." Said Alastor, putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Well they aren't bizarred request. Charlie thinks outside the box and it's nice to see her dreams become real." Said (Y/n) from the table, not getting closer to whatever beef Alastor decided he had against the other.

"Oh thank you guys." Said Charlie

"Ahem, Charlie! Dear, eheh, why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends?" Said Lucifer, getting between the two and pointed at the group around the table.

"Oh yes, of course." Said Charlie getting next to Vaggie. "This is Vaggie, my girlfriend."

"Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common! You put her there Maggie. Hey!" Lucifer said Hugging Vaggie, tightly. "Oh yeah, she's so pretty."

"Lovely to meet you, uh sir." Said Vaggie, taking a deep breath after being let go.

"This is our guests Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, and (Y/n) when they want to." Said Charlie.

"Your Majesty!" Said Sir Pentious trying to defend his cookies from Angel Dust and (Y/n).

"Heya short king~" Said Angel Dust, (Y/n) making a face at how Angel Dust said that.

"Hello from the otherside, again." They said, waving.

"(Y/n) helps with managing with Vaggie and helps when Alastor is busy." Said Charlie. "They just like helping, But anyway Husk is our bartender, and Niffty is our housekeeper."

"Nice to meet you." Said Husk before Niffty runs over and climbs up Lucifer's coat.

"Hello. I clean." She said before the chandelier fell making everyone cough.

"Alright then." Said Lucifer, pointing his cane at the chandelier magically making it disappear.

- "No one is gonna call you dad with that creepy ass smile" the song-

After Mimzy appeared, taking Alastor attention for alittle bit.

"So... you look nothing like how your depicted on earth." Said (Y/n), looking at Lucifer. "They used way to much red."

"..You're a sinner? When did you arrive in Hell?" Asked Lucifer.

"A few years ago. Around 2019 ish? It kinda blurry. I'm technically an Overlord." Answered (Y/n).

"(Y/n) is the youngest in the amount of years in Hell and age." Said Charlie. "They got here when they were 18 so that why they look like a kid." Said Charlie before Mimzy noticed that Lucifer was here, pushing Sir Pentious out of her way.

"Pleased to meet ya! Your Highness." She said before nudging Alastor. "Alastor, you gotta warn a girl when she's in mixed company."

"Charmed, I'm sure." Said Lucifer, sounding like he didn't care.

"As much as I'd love to catch up, Charlie, (Y/n) and I have a tour to continue." Said Alastor, Lucifer hearing this dragged Charlie.

"I'm sure Charlie can handle showing me around." Said Lucifer. "Along with (Y/n)."

"Why am I getting dragged into this?" They questioned with no response.

"Nonsense!" Said Alastor, grabbing Charlie and moved foward. "We started the hotel together, and we'll show it off together. Right, Charlie?"

"I was here before you!" Said (Y/n)

"Oh, right." Charlie said and Alastor let her go so she could show her father around with Vaggie and (Y/n) following behind.

This is going to be an interesting tour.

-

"So, once we have the proof that redemption is possible, this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into heaven! We just need a little time to prove it. The sharing circles haven't been working as fast as I hoped." Charlie told her father, leading the group. (Y/n) walking close to Alastor noticed when Alastor stop and looked back to see Husk.

"Hey, boss. Can I have a word? Uh alone,(Y/n)." Asked Husk.

"Hurry along (Y/n), I wouldn't be long." Said Alastor and (Y/n) got a nervous feeling about what the conversation going to be.

"Okay, see ya Husk." They said before walking to where Charlie and the others went, not seeing Alastor turn his head an 180 degree to face Husk.

"What is it?"

-

(Y/n) caught up with Vaggie, who was walking behind Lucifer and Charlie.

"What happened?" Asked Vaggie, who noticed (Y/n) and Alastor had stopped earlier.

"Nothing hopefully, Husk just wanted to talk to Alastor." They explained. "How's it going?" Noticing the nervous look on Lucifer's face. Vaggie didn't answer before they got on a balcony and Charlie had her help explain the hotel mission.

"And we've almost been able to find all of Angel Dust's drug stashes… almost." Said Vaggie.

"I remember when I found one the first time, still had no idea what it was." Said (Y/n), remembering how they showed Vaggie it and she quickly took it away and scold Angel Dust for it.

"So, once that's out of the way, it should be much smoother sailing!" Said Charlie, (Y/n) zone out know with how Lucifer acting Charlie would be disappointed in his response. They leaned on the railing, looking at the view of Hell.

"-Heaven, is not exactly as carefree as you might think. Yeah, they have rules, lots of rules, and they aren't very open minded as you'd hope. Look at (Y/n)!Why would heaven put a kid here? Unless they're a mass murder." Said Lucifer, getting (Y/n)'s attention.

"I'm not."

"These are our people, Dad, I… I have to try!" Said Charlie.

"Our 'people' Charlie, are awful! They got gifted free will and look what they did with it! Everything's terrible!" Said Lucifer.

"Hey! I didn't even get to even use my so call freewill and Charlie is trying to help!" Said (Y/n).

"Well I don't want her to herself on the line for people like-." Said Lucifer before a loud thud, shaking the hotel.

"For fucks sake."

"Geez! What now?!" Said Vaggie before everyone looked out to see Loan sharks at the front door with a battering ram.

"Well, like that." Said Lucifer.

"Mimzy! We know you're in there you lousy bitch!" One of the sharks yell

"Oh go fuck yourself!" Yelled (Y/n) before being pulled into a portal by Charlie.

"Que Carajo?!" Yelled Vaggie.

"What's going on?!" Said Charlie.

"I maaaaaay be in trouble with some loan sharks. I may or may not have borrowed 50 grand from—." Said Mimzy before hiding from a loud sound "And I may have also stolen a car… and crashed it… into the loan shark's girlfriend, but that bitch had it coming!"

Then all hell broke lose by the windows breaking with a barrage of fireballs, scaring everyone.

"My windows!" Yelled Niffty, upset with the broken windows.

"Ah, we're under siege! Ah! Take cover!" Said Sir Pentious, finally letting go of his cookies while dodging a fireball. Everyone panicking scrambled for cover.

"I'm going to fucking kill these assholes!" Said (Y/n), getting pulled by Charlie again away from a fireball.

"You see? This is exactly what I'm talking about Charlie. You build something nice, you invite people in and offer them everything and they just bring violence and chaos to your doorstep. It doesn't matter how well intentioned you are, they're always going to disappoint you." Said Lucifer unbothered with the chaos, getting on (Y/n)'s last nerve.

"You- just shut up! I'll handle this-." They said before Alastor appeared infront of them.

"No my dear, leave it to me. It's time to remind everyone why I am here."

"I'm also here for a reason, Alastor." Said (Y/n), glaring at the other overlord.

"Very well, shall we dear child?"

"We shall."

"A reminder to all, not to mess with the radio demon!"

"Oh, finally! Took you long enough!" Said Mimzy, earning a look from (Y/n).

(Y/n) let Alastor eat everyone in his demon form while they fought off and weakened the rest for him to finish.

"Does it even taste good?"

"Do you want to try some?"

"No thanks old man."

(Y/n) left Alastor to deal with Mimzy, seeing Charlie and Lucifer comforting each other before singing from the door way.

-"I'm happy they are solving their issues but why does it always have to be by song?"-

"Aww, that's so sssweet." Said Sir Pentious.

"It was." Said (Y/n), patting him on the back.

"Ok, I can get you the meeting but once you're in Heaven, I won't be able to go with you. Will you be ok?" Said Lucifer.

"I'll be fine." Said Charlie.

"That's my girl, good luck kiddo." He said before vanishing in red mist. (Y/n) got closer to Charlie.

"So you're gonna actually do this? Fucking mint, I guess." They said, not completely on board about Heaven of all places.

"The next part is going to be scary, you ready?" Said Vaggie.

"I'm ready, cuz you're gonna be with me." Said Charlie, hugging Vaggie.

"In spirit, right?" Said Vaggie.

"In Heaven!"

"Yay..." said Vaggie before (Y/n) started laughing at her reaction, earning a glare from Vaggie and a look from Charlie.

"You're coming too, (Y/n)!" Said Charlie, making (Y/n) stop laughing.

"Why?!" They said.

"Because you were the first one to help after Vaggie! You're a main part of the hotel!" Said Charlie, pulling (Y/n) in the hug.

"I'm killing myself." Said (Y/n) with a blank look on their face.

"(Y/n)!"

"I'm kidding... mostly."

"Shit.."

-

"Why would they want to meet (Y/n) aswell?"

[macabr3-barbi3]

Dream a Little Dream (of Me)- Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Even more fun new abilities, like making Alastor have a real conversation!

I'm sorry, I know it's been forever- I have a terrible habit of getting caught up at chapter 5 on all of my fics for some reason 🤣 the new banner was created by my beloved @fraugwinska who is this fic's #1 hype woman (ily 💕)

I've hit a point in this story where I think I'm going to start implementing a few more plot elements- I love writing the smut but I have some fun ideas for actual story; they can only do so much before something else is needed to keep it going, so going forward there will be a bit less of a focus on the sexual aspects of the reader's relationship with Alastor and more on some emotional parts and world-building. I hope that's not too disappointing, and that you all will stick along for the ride with us <3

For weeks following your fleeing of his bedroom, Alastor is in an absolutely foul mood.

The night after your argument, your silent lounging on your bed- in your own bedroom once again, sleep deprived and irritated, unwilling again to interact with anyone else’s dreams- is disturbed by a shuddering of the hotel and loud, clattering thumps coming from down the hall. You stumble bleary-eyed into the hallway with everyone else, Charlie identifying the disturbance as coming from Alastor’s room and knocking gently on the door.

When he opens it he looks distraught, eyes wide, smile strained, his hair looking like he’s been running his hands through it constantly, tugging at it. “What is it,” he asks the Princess, and to Charlie’s credit she doesn’t shrink back from him when she asks if he’s okay, tells him that he’s disturbing everyone’s sleep.

He locks eyes with you where you stand a few feet away, still hovering halfway into your own room. “Perfectly fine,” he tells Charlie, but his eyes don’t leave your face. “Merely a… nightmare, I suppose. More of a disappointing dream than anything else, really.”

You duck back into your room with a slam of the door, chest heaving with your anger and frustration and not listening to whatever else he had to say to Charlie. What right did he have to say that you were a disappointment? You didn’t even know what he wanted from you, let alone what you had done wrong- what, not wanting to kill people? You were no saint, having ended up in Hell in the first place, but you had morals still, lines you wouldn’t cross. Regardless of anything that had happened between you thus far, any yearning or feelings that might have resulted from it, you wouldn’t change who you were as a person for him. You came to the hotel seeking redemption, for fuck’s sake- how could he think that he could ask that of you?

You start booking other hotel rooms with the money you’re earning as the Resident Events Coordinator- honestly, Charlie probably pays you way too much, but it's helping you in the meantime so you aren’t going to complain- and you’ll camp out for a few days at a time and practice your abilities in the dreams of others. It’s fun for a while, to innocently mess with people by creating clones and turning things upside down. You find that once you’ve been inside someone’s dreams you can almost tune into their thoughts like a radio broadcast now- a little concentration and you get fleeting snippets of consciousness from them; grocery lists, work tasks, gossip. It’s nothing like it had been with Alastor, like you were deep-diving into his brain, seeing his memories through his eyes. He might have been right about your connection to him being what allowed such a thinking to happen, since you showed no signs of being able to do such a thing with anyone else.

Charlie notices how often you’re away from the Hotel, because she’s doing everything in her power to keep you there aside from having Vaggie physically restrain you. She keeps proposing new activities for you to coordinate, from a night at the club to an outing at LuLu World, and most recently she had you planning a trip to her father’s mansion for some fancy dinner and tour- Lucifer himself wouldn’t be interacting with them beyond the actual meal, he was just opening the space to them so they could all see where Charlie had grown up, another lesson in ‘empathy’ that Charlie hoped would help them make progress.

So you spent the evening making sure that everyone was corralled into the correct locations and not slipping off where they shouldn’t be. Angel had already tried to convince Husk to raid the wine cellar with him, Niffty was lamenting that she wasn’t allowed into the King’s personal quarters to clean, and Charlie was growing more and more frustrated that rooms she wanted to show the group had been filled with rubber ducks. Alastor keeps his distance from you, occasionally fading into the shadows to go do his own thing- you hope Charlie and Lucifer don’t hold it against you that you have no ability to control that man. 

Dinner calms everyone down, wine and delicious food putting everyone in a better mood while Lucifer dazzled them with magic and stories about Charlie as a child. You laugh along with everyone but you can feel Alastor’s eyes on you the entire meal, and when you finally steal a glance at him he’s looking away.

Typical.

You help Vaggie herd everyone into their rooms- their own rooms, to Angel’s disappointment at not being able to share with Husk- and leave Alastor to Charlie so she can berate him about not making an effort to get along with her dad, snippy barbs flying across the table at each other between stories. You tell the girls that you’ll stay up a bit later to make sure no one does any ill-advised exploring in the night, and bid them a goodnight as you head off to clean up from dinner. Lucifer seemed to have used his magic to take care of most of the food mess, but he’s nowhere to be seen when you return to the dining room so you take your time in stacking plates and organizing the dishes so that whatever staff he might have has an easier time of taking care of it all.

Just after midnight finds you seated on the couch in Lucifer’s library, your eyes surprisingly not bleary with a need for sleep despite not having truly rested in days. Everyone else is asleep- you focus your powers for a moment and can’t pinpoint anything coming from the others, other than an unpleasant staticky noise that comes from Alastor’s room. The fireplace crackles pleasantly a few feet away from you, the comforting smell of old books surrounding you and making things feel… calmer than they have as of late, with Alastor stomping around the hotel like some angry beast and refusing to interact with you at all. He was always making this expression towards you, like he wants to say something, or wants you to say something, and it was wearing away at your resolve.

You didn’t want to have this distance between you. Even beyond the more intimate moments that you had shared, Alastor had always been good company; he was helping you learn more about your powers, even if it was only to sate his curiosity; outside of his bedroom he was friendly and fun, and would probably rather die again than admit that he enjoyed the company of the others as well. Throughout of the course of this… thing between you, something had changed on your side. You think about the night he tore his stitches, the words you had whispered before realizing he had passed out above you.

“I would be yours. Forever. For as long as you want.”

The words still sit uncomfortably true in your ribcage, make the rift between the two of you feel even wider. Maybe it would be easier if he knew- if you could take his avoidance of you as an answer. You wanted to find him, try to have a proper conversation about boundaries when it came to your power- have a proper conversation about your feelings, and-

A throat clears in the doorway of the library, and when you turn Alastor himself stands in the doorway. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he says stiffly without stepping into the room, and you wave a hand at him to indicate that he can join you. He stands at the other end of the room still, closer to the fire, and won’t meet your eyes. “I heard you telling Charlotte that you would keep an eye on everyone tonight- but I know you haven’t slept. I’m happy to take up the watch if you would like me to place a temporary pocket dimension in your room, or transport you back to the hotel for the night.”

You want to drop it- ignore the fight that still hovers frustratingly between the two of you when Alastor is offering an out. His way of apologizing, perhaps, but your thoughts from earlier are still there. You needed to actually talk about it, or the pair of you would just keep coming back to the same issue.

“It depends. Does accepting your offer mean that we wouldn’t be talking about how you casually mentioned having me kill people for you? Because in that case, no thank you.” You watch the fire instead of him, how the flames twist and dance with one another as he stiffens at your words.

“I… regret how that evening transpired,” he says at last, ignoring your sigh as he comes closer to the couch. “I’ve thought on the matter and I recognize how such a request-”

“A request that you made seem like a command,” you remind him, “with that shit you pulled with the leash.”

He takes a deep breath, the flames flickering green behind him as he tried to keep his composure. “Yes, I can see now how that would have upset you. Regardless- I recognize how such a request was inappropriate, even if we did have a tentative agreement in regards to my limits with your powers. I understand that it is a boundary for you, and I will do my best not to test that again.”

You finally turn to look at him, and he looks… properly abashed. But there was no way he would have come up with that on his own, not with the glee that had been evident in his features when he brought up the idea. “Did Charlie help you with that?” You ask, and he scowls- which is less scary than he probably hopes it is, and is more a confirmation than anything else.

“I may have sought her expertise in handling interpersonal conflict,” he says, his stiff posture finally loosening up as he joins you on the couch. “Apologies do not come easily to me- not sincere ones, anyway. I don’t-” He clenches his fist and turns away from you, dark shadows crawling across the floor in arcs away from him. “I don’t know how to have something in my grasp without possessing it entirely. We have a deal but it’s not one that grants me the liberties that I would prefer in regards to your powers and your actions.” 

You take a deep breath and scoot closer to him. “I appreciate you being honest with me,” you offer, and he grimaces like the idea is distasteful. “Listen, I’m sure you think having feelings makes you weaker or something but really, it’s important to talk about these things. And to apologize… which I accept. But if we want to keep, you know, experimenting with my powers and whatever else, I think we need to have specific guidelines of what we expect of each other that isn’t crossing any boundaries for either of us. What, exactly, do you want?”

Alastor seems to struggle with himself for a moment, clenching his hands and refusing to meet your eyes. “I… I’m not quite sure what I want,” he says, like the words of ignorance pain him. “I’ve despised having to keep my distance from you since our disagreement. To see you laughing with the others and turning away from me with that look on your face was unpleasant to say the least. I don’t want that space between us again- if you’re amenable to the idea I think I would like to have you back in my bedroom, once I have repaired the bayou dimension.”

“You want to be closer then- physically.” You hop cushions, sitting right beside him and placing a hand on his knee. “That’s fine, we can do that- you’ll have to tell me what happened to the bayou sometime, though.” He nods stiffly, hesitating a moment before he places his hand over yours on his knee. “Anything else?”

“In regards to your powers, I would still like to experiment if you will allow me.” Alastor lifts your hand from his knee and presses a soft kiss to the back of it. “I understand that hurting others is a limit you will not cross-”

“I won’t hurt you either, if that was your idea of trying to get around that.”

He frowns. “Too clever for your own good- I suppose that is part of the reason that I tolerate you. Very well- I will not ask you to cause physical harm to anybody, period. I also still would like to ask that I am the only one who knows of your abilities for the time being.”

“Done. I do have a condition of my own.” You turn to face him fully, and pull his hand to your heart. “I don’t want this to be a proper deal- no soul binding or anything like that. I would want the rope from our wager removed.” He stiffens at that, but he doesn’t jerk away from you like you expected so you continue. “We have to be able to trust each other if we want any sort of relationship to work, whether it be for experimentation or something more. We should be able to follow each other’s requests and boundaries without needing it sealed with a chain- that doesn’t give us any room to adapt or change as my powers grow and situations shift.”  

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t look at you for a long moment, instead keeping his eyes trained on the flames before he finally nods- you bite your lip to keep from grinning or doing something stupid, like shouting in excitement. “I hope you realize what you are asking of me,” he says finally. “I don’t generally keep people close to me that I cannot control or own in some way or another. It keeps me detached from needing people, or caring about their approval. But I do believe I want those things from you, which is why I am agreeing to these terms. Please understand that this is… new territory for me.”

You lace your fingers through his. “It is for me, too. But that’s where the trust comes in- I have to trust that you’ll respect my boundaries without the compulsion of a deal, and you trust that I’m here with you because I want to be- whether you just want to continue experimenting with my powers or… anything else.”

Alastor’s red eyes glance at you from his peripheral. “Anything else, you say? I take it to mean that you also wish for things to return as they were between us in an intimate manner?” Your face flushes but you nod, and to your relief he smiles softly and reaches across the scant distance between you to touch your shoulder. “I would like that as well,” he says, and cups your cheek in one hand, leaning in so your foreheads rest against one another. His breath ghosts across your lips, and you realize with startling clarity that this would be the first time you’ve kissed him outside of dreams; the first one in reality, a milestone to mark the resolvement of your disagreement. You embrace it, leaning in and letting your lips meet, a gentle pressure before your mouth opens with a gasp when he trails his free hand up your thigh to caress the skin under your shorts with his thumb. “So soft,” he murmurs into the kiss, almost absently, and then he’s pulling you to him, maneuvering so you sit sideways in his lap. He lets his fingers creep a bit further under the hem of your shorts. “May I?”

“Please,” you whine, and he grants you mercy by snapping your clothing out of existence so he can make unhindered contact with your skin. His fingers move slowly, tracing through the wetness along the folds of your entrance before he parts them and slips a digit inside. The short weeks that have passed since the last time you were with him feel like a lifetime, but he still knows the intricacies of your body like a well loved instrument; a second finger follows, and pressure against the spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Fuck, Alastor…”

He steals the rest of your words with his mouth, his tongue snaking in to tangle with yours, drinking down the sounds you make like ambrosia. Another finger, and you twist in Alastor’s hold to grind yourself down against them, to angle your hips to guide him more effectively where you want him to go. “Someone is eager, hm?” He pulls back to whisper in your ear, hand finally leaving your face to come around your back, pulling you as close as he can to his body while still working his fingers inside you. His thumb comes into play, brushing with perfect pressure on your clit, dipping into the wetness that coats his fingers so the slide of it is slick and perfect. Tension builds inside you, muscles shaking as you ride Alastor’s hand towards a sloppy orgasm. He brings his mouth to your chest, sharp teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there before sucking gently, still making eye contact when you glance down at him through the haze of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you. “Go on, darling,” he says softly, laving his tongue over the marks he’s sucked into your skin, fingers thrusting more insistently as everything in you coils tighter than a spring. “Cum for me, go on-”

You cry out his name as it takes you over, the electric flash of ecstasy that consumes you from the pit of your stomach to the tips of your fingers as Alastor works you through it. You can feel your heartbeat in your eyes from the force of it, a soft throbbing that you know Alastor is experiencing where his digits are still inside the grip of your internal walls. Everything is tingly and fuzzy afterward, as your pulse returns to normal and your breathing slows, aware now of the soft kisses that Alastor is pressing into your collarbone.

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to drag his tongue up and down the length of them while you blush. And despite the pleasure he’s already given you, you want more- you grind your hips down to convey the sentiment, the mess of your orgasm still evident and soaking through the front of his trousers where you can feel the hard ridge of his cock. He hisses at the friction, twisting a hand up into your hair while the other grips your hip and pulls you down harder. “You tempt me, my dear,” he says, “but someone is coming.”

“I don’t hear anything,” you mutter, continuing to rock your hips in little circles. Even with how sensitive you are, the pressure against your clit feels damningly good, too good to stop or heed his warning. “And if someone comes in, I’ll handle it.”

Alastor laughs out loud. “Oh, you’ll handle it, will you? By all means then, have at it.” He gestures vaguely towards his pelvis, unaware of the trick that you’ve been holding up your sleeve in your recent solo experimentations. You would never get a better opportunity to surprise him, you think, as you rip the belt from his pants and help him shimmy them off, his thick erection beading with fluid at the tip when it’s freed.

You lean back against the couch cushions, pulling him down with you and using a gentle hand to guide him to your entrance. You let out a soft whimper as he pushes into you, breath punching out of you with a gasp when he sinks to the hilt in one swift thrust. You tangle a hand into his hair, gripping the base of one of his antlers and grinning when his hips jerk against you at the action. His eyes are half-lidded and soft as he stares down at you, seeming to have to focus on slowing down when he pulls out and slowly presses back in. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers, and your pulse leaps into your throat when he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind is flooded with images when he makes contact, emotions that ride through your veins along with the physical pleasure you’re feeling- evidently he’s been watching you the last few weeks, following you when you left the hotel to make sure you weren’t in any danger, sending his shadow to watch you sleep. You can feel the bitterness in your pulse as he watches you interact with the others, only to turn away when you notice him. The vague sadness that night that he had destroyed his room, his bayou, because how could he remain there when there were traces of you everywhere? 

You break the connection with a gasp, using your grip on his antler to pull him back to your mouth as he continues to fuck into you at a steady pace. He groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, marks that you can come back to when the need was to great, more tangible proof that this was real, that he wanted you outside your abilities. “Alastor, please,” you beg, letting the fingers not currently brushing the base of his horns to trail down his spine, tracing the vertebrae beneath your touch as he shivers. He shifts his legs, brings himself closer to you, the angle changing and pushing the tip of his cock exactly where you need it. 

The door to the library creaks open, and you both freeze.

“Hello?” There’s a hint of pain as Lucifer’s voice echoes in the room, where Alastor has tightened his grip enough to break skin with his claws. His other hand untangles itself from your hair to press against your mouth, silencing your heavy breathing. “Who’s in here?”

The couch you were seated on was high-backed- he wouldn’t be able to see you from the door, but if he entered the room, came around the front, you would be fucked in a far less pleasurable way than you currently were. Alastor’s nostrils flare above you as he hears the soft clacking of the King’s boots as he takes a couple steps in, apparently not able to help himself from bucking his hips forward, his teeth bared in a snarl when he feels your muffled groan against his palm.

More light blooms in the room from the wall sconces- you had been sitting in here with just the fire, and the glare of more lighting makes you squint your eyes, Alastor silhouetted beautifully above you. “I know someone is in here,” Lucifer demands, and you take a deep breath against Alastor’s hand and snap your fingers. “You were all told to-”

“Why, good evening, your Majesty!” 

You almost wish you had manifested in Hell like the CEO of that tech company, with some sort of electronics built into your head so you could record the look on Alastor’s face at hearing his own voice respond to Lucifer. Your eyebrows are creased, trying to focus on the figment you’ve conjured to keep the King’s attention away from the couch. 

“Oh, it’s just you,” Lucifer says, and you can hear the hint of disdain in his voice- you wonder, not for the first time, what the issue was between these two- some conflict that had started before you were at the Hotel that no one felt necessary to fill you in on. “I thought you were told to keep to your own quarters past eleven.”

You make the thing twirl it’s cane, snapping it back to the ground and inspecting it’s fingernails. “Yes, well, I had some business to attend to. And might I add, sire, you are also out past your imposed bedtime.” 

Maybe it was something about using your powers to sass the king of Hell with some false puppet, but Alastor seemed to react well to it- his eyes dark, teeth bared, he plants a foot on the floor to brace himself so the couch doesn’t shift and thrusts into you hard, his hand pressing harder against your mouth when you whine at the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls. There’s wonder in his expression, something akin to adoration; this was what he wanted from you, you realized, displays of power, shows of your abilities that he could see and benefit from, that showed that he could trust you. 

Lucifer scoffs across the room. “This is my house, if you’ve forgotten,” he retorts. “I can go where I please. And I heard you talking to someone!” Rapid footsteps, like he’s coming further into the room, and even as it makes Alastor buck his hips wildly against you, you don’t think he really wants to be caught in such a compromising situation.

You make the figure step forward- if you really concentrate you can almost see through its eyes, a vague image behind your eyelids of Lucifer standing before it with his arms crossed where you’ve blocked him, his gaze frustrated. “I was talking to myself,” you make it say. “I must have intelligent conversation on occasion, you know, and with everyone else in bed and only you left awake, I had to make do.”

Alastor grins above you, pleased with the tone and the words of this replica you’ve created of him; refusing to use his likeness to submit or offer pleasantries to get him out of the room; you were doubling down like Alastor himself would. You can hear the inaccuracies- you’re sure Alastor can, too- but Lucifer appears none the wiser as Alastor begins to fuck you in earnest, the couch thankfully staying still and not squeaking or moving as he holds his hand over your mouth harder and leans down to nibble at your collar.

“Of all the disrespectful-”

“Careful now, your Majesty,” it says, and you make shadows appear to crawl across the floor towards him, tendrils approaching the couch as well. When Alastor notices them he groans into your skin, and through the copy’s eyes you see Lucifer snap his head in the direction of the sound. “You wouldn’t want Charlie to catch us in a disagreement, would you?” And thank whatever beings heard prayers down here, Lucifer deflates- you had made a gamble with that, assuming that Charlie had spoken with her father about getting along with her hotelier, but knowing the princess the way that you did you figured there was no way that she would allow them to be at each other’s throats like they were. You let the false shadows sink back, and have your illusion give him a cheeky little wave. “There’s a good King. Now, may I get back to my business?” With the last word, Alastor stills, waiting for a confirmation or denial, possibly preparing to phase the two of you out of the room if Lucifer came further into the room-

“Do whatever you want,” Lucifer grumbles, “Charlie and that little coordinator need to keep a closer fucking eye on you, but I can’t be bothered.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that to our event planner,” you make it say, and Alastor makes another soft noise into your throat against where your pulse beats steadily, replicated in the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his still hard length. The interruption doesn’t seem to have doused your arousal, nor Alastor’s- the possibility of being caught like this makes your blood boil in the most pleasant way, Alastor’s cock still filling you perfectly even as he’s stopped actually fucking you for the time being. “I’ll bid you a good night, sire; I still have matters that need tending to, free of distractions.” You see Lucifer cast a middle finger back at the image of Alastor as it speaks, and then mercifully he’s storming out, a swirling golden portal opening for him to step through and then closing with a loud crack.

In time with the noise of the portal slamming closed, Alastor pulls his hips back and snaps them forward again- his hand is removed from your mouth with your gasp, and he moves it to your hip to pull you more forcefully into his thrusts. “You,” he growls against your jawline, “are perfect.” He kisses you, licking into your mouth and stealing the air from your lungs as it’s punched from you with every rock of his pelvis. “The audacity to pull such a stunt- the control you maintained over the illusion was breathtaking, I don’t- fuck,” he concludes eloquently, fingers coming between your bodies to rub at your clit again as he races towards completion. It reignites the fire in your abdomen, heat flashing through your body like a strike of lightning that burns across your skin, making you cling to him tighter. He looks down at you with dark, unfathomable eyes while he fucks you, his pace growing uneven and broken as he approaches his end. “Please, darling,” he whispers against your lips, “cum for me, I need-”

The plea is what breaks you, every muscle in your body tensing and releasing as the orgasm slams into you like a car into a brick wall- messy, sudden, destructive. You don’t leave your own mind this time, your consciousness firmly rooted in reality as you watch Alastor lose his composure, his eyes fluttering closed with a gasp of your name while he spills into the slick heat of your cunt, his hips still rocking as if he means to fuck his release as far into you as he can. You shiver with the aftershocks, Alastor still maintaining a gentle swiping across your clit, and you can feel the way your walls twitch around the length of his cock while he stays buried in you to the hilt.

“No mind traveling today, I see,” he asks quietly, another kiss pressed softly to your forehead, and while no mental images come forth you can feel what he’s feeling now; the lingering ache of pleasure, the pride he still feels at your show of your new ability, an overall sense of happiness that you wouldn’t expect to be able to bring Alastor. He had put aside his discomfort to have an honest, responsible conversation with you to fix what you had both thought might be irreparably broken, and you were thankful.

You hum against his throat. “I’m content where I am,” you tell him, and the vibration of his laughter on your lips is perfection.

From the previous tags list: @aconstructofamind @littlebluefishtail @spottypug @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff @minamilinaqueen

if any of you would like to be removed for any reason, please let me know! <3

[0oolookitsme]

Such an Opportunist

This one was going be a rather sad and angsty one, but it quickly took a turn ...and hopefully, it was for the better. I'll surely write another fic for what I wanted this one to be, but nonetheless – I hope you enjoy this one!

Verse - Singer!Harry x Ceo!Y/n

Word Count - 1.7k

Warnings - Some new-parental-stress in the beginning.

Harry really needs to sleep, and Y/n is very shocked to learn that he's written songs she'd yet to hear. Also, Harry falls on some Lego bits and what better opportunity to ask for a back massage?

Please rb to share! | Masterlist

Harry was in the kitchen, making himself another cup of tea while chewing on some raisins. He could hear Amore playing with her toys around him somewhere and Y/n's humming voice was the only other sound travelling through the house -- apart from the whirring of the washing machine as well that Harry had thought he had broken on his first try.

Andre's wailing had quieted down, some sniffles being the only indication that he was still recovering from the fall. He had fallen from the couch onto the pillow that Y/n had laid on the floor just in case that very thing would happen -- and Harry and her both suspected that the little boy was just shocked.

"Hm, make me one too?" Y/n meekly requested on entering the kitchen, her fingers weaving through her hair to make a braid.

Harry turned back and automatically his first glance landed on Andre, feeling relief when he saw him playing with Amore on the carpeted floor -- and then, snaked his arms around Y/n's waist.

"Feelin' very sleepy today, thought another bedtime tea would surely be helpful" he chuckled hoarsely, before pecking her lips. "Don't know what I was thinking when I put the kettle on the stove," resting his head in the curve of her neck, he admitted. 

Y/n only sighed in response, swaying the both of them as she wrapped her arms around his slouched frame. She could tell that the sleep deprivation was beginning to mess with him. "Been craving a lot of Earl Grey, recently, haven't you?" She huffed out a laugh, pressing a kiss somewhere on his ear lobe.

He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, considering that the pair of twins were teething at the same time, and he was on duty. He and Y/n did all that they could -- from gum massaging to freezing milk popsicles. The silicone teethers and other toys were great help, but only during the day. It was the nighttime, during which Harry and Y/n lived the actual nightmare.

On the night prior to the last one, it was Y/n's turn to look after the babies, and it was one of the worst nights ever. So much so, that Harry was unable to go to sleep because of the loud wails and the fact that his babies were helplessly hurting. So, he was up along with her, although he remained in bed and held onto Amore who had been whimpering with her head nuzzled in his chest – all while looking at Y/n pace around the nursery they'd built out of the room right next to theirs, with a sobbing Andre clung to her chest, bouncing herself in different motions to somehow get him to relax, in the baby monitor

So, it only made sense for him to be tired and sleepy out of his mind.

"I'm glad you came home early tonight. Was hoping you'd sleep in early," Y/n mumbled as she scratched his scalp, something that never failed to soothe him. "I'll take care of tonight. Got to peel some peas, too, you know?" Chuckling, she continued -- "It's been a while."

Harry hummed back, taking a deep breath before rising back to his height. He pressed a chaste kiss on her upper lip, and placed his hands on her love handles, already missing the warmth of her neck and Andre's baby scent that lingered there.

"Only had to do some composing today," he told her. "Pretty happy with the way the song's turning out," he smiled before he moved over to take the kettle off the stove. 

It made Y/n smile, that they were finally talking about something that wasn't in regards to their children or about how tired they were. Because those two topics seemed to be the only thing that they ever talked about these past few days, and she was beginning to anticipate a fight brewing somewhere in a dark corner, away from sight.

Sliding her bottom on the kitchen island, she sat cross legged on it and -- "Oh really? I'm so happy!" She chirped. "Tell me more!"

She heard him laugh lightly, and she felt as if she were glowing because of how happy she'd gotten. "C'mon! I wanna know!" She urged him to hurry as he waited for the tea to leave its flavour in their cups.

Harry laughed again, as if her happiness was contagious.

"You know the song I told you about, the day before yesterday? The one which I described as silently and shyly explicit?" He asked her, turning around with a cup in each hand. He was holding the body of her cup so that she could hook her fingers through its handle and wouldn't burn herself with how hot the cup was, and Y/n's heart felt like it was merely a puddle in her chest cavity.

She hummed in response, motioning him to sit and giving him a look when he only leaned his bottom on the kitchen counter, and crossed his feet at the ankles in front of her.

"Well, I named it 'Keep Diving'," he gleamed. "I can't wait for you to hear it! I think we just have to give it some touch-ups tomorrow," slurping on his tea just to annoy her, he grinned proudly.

"So... am I going to hear it tomorrow, or when the whole album is ready?" She asked him with narrowed eyes, pointing a finger gun at him.

Harry laughed out loud and immediately held his cup a little farther from his chest so he wouldn't spill the tea on himself. "You've heard every song I've made so far! Music For A Sushi Restaurant, Late Night Talking, Satellite, As It Was, and Grapejuice," he recapped the song titles for her.

"And, Keep Driving, of course," he said. "Which I think I'll let you hear once the album is ready, along with a few other ones," a smirk pulled one corner of his lips upside and dug a dimple in his cheek. He was growing a stubble.

Y/n gasped loudly; mouth wide open and eyes stilled at him in shock. "There are multiple songs you're hiding from me?" She exclaimed, placing her cup beside her before she could drop it.

Harry pretended to run, looking anywhere but in her eyes. "You are the first person to listen to anything I write! I'm just planning to surprise you with ...a few," he accepted sheepishly.

Her eyes had now fallen in suspicious slits that glared at him. "How many?" She asked, swinging her legs off of the island.

"I mean, there are songs I still need to write but... I've got 3, I think, that you don't know about," he emphasised as if that'd save him from her hands that seemed to be ready to attack him with pinches and tickles. So, he quickly chugged the last few sips of his tea that had gone cold by now, and slid the cup on the counter before taking off from the kitchen.

He ran carefully so he wouldn't slip in his socks, but that wasn't helping because she was running after him without a care in the world. Although, it was when she began laughing and shrieking behind him that Harry couldn't help but turn to see what had caught her attention that was funnier to her than them being grown-up adults, running after each other like they were kids again.

And the sight amused Harry to the level that he had to stop to laugh at it, which caused Y/n to slam into him because she was looking behind her instead of looking ahead.

Hary went tumbling down on the Lego bits the kids had built and he cried out loudly in pain, the pieces digging into his back as Y/n fell over him. She was laughing at him but her eyes showed concern for him, and before she would've gotten up to help him, the two little bodies that were running behind her came and halted at her feet.

She sighed in relief, slightly proud that they already held that certain maturity but then Andre bent his knees, and made a big jump on her back as if she were playing horses with him and Amore followed soon behind him, crawling up Y/n's leg and stopping once she was sitting behind Andre.

"Oh my -- god," Harry gritted through his teeth, wrapping his arms around Y/n so the kids atop of her wouldn't fall in case his groaning body tilted to the side in pain.

"Oh my god," Y/n also hissed, mainly for Harry but also because of the attack on her poor back. Her face still showed amusement as she tried to reach for the kids' hands above her and get them off of her. "Get up, Andre, Amore – get up," she urged them and sighed when they did.

She exhaled in relief on her back, but then Harry groaned again beneath her.

"Get up, Y/n," Harry gritted once more and Y/n stilled in realisation before rolling over, onto the floor on her back, spewing apologies.

His eyes were tightly shut when Y/n got up and offered him her hand. “H, give me your hand,” she asked of him, feeling warm inside that the kids were each on his sides and pressing their little hands on his biceps, shaking him thinking he was asleep.

Harry took in a ragged breath before opening his eyes, wincing when the kids shouted in delightment that they had woken him up. But, nevertheless, he set a pointed look on Y/n at once.

“I’m not letting you get away with this so easily, woman.” He said in a strained voice. “You better get you oils ready to rub ‘em in my back.”

That made Y/n gasp once again and she placed her hand on her hip while pointing a finger at him with the other one. “You’re such an opportunist! Taking advantage of the situation!” She called him out with an accusatory tone to her voice, and only shook her head when he shrugged with a menacing smile on his mouth, grasping at her withheld hand.

[midnight-talescape]

𝒫𝑒𝓉 (𝒮𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Kinktober Day 11: Pet play + Sensory Deprivation

I had to revert back to my creepypasta phase to write this story, lol.

Bring back memories of when i was like 16ish and had nightmares for days and sleep paralysis of slenderman before waking up and continue reading them, because i have a problem.

Also like i wanted to do humiliation, i tried to do humiliation but like mr daddy long leg, just doesn’t feel like one that will humiliates their sexual partner, so yeah.

Warning: yeah no you got kidnapped, your like a pet now, tentacles, ooc etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 1696

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You were different,

You were always different,

Uncaring and desensitized to the world,

It wasn’t like you didn’t care, because you did,

You were just…disconnected.

From your feelings and your life, always feeling like an outsider as you watch your daily life happen,

Like your soul was an audience that's watching your body acting on a stage…

So when one day you saw a scribbled note on a tree outside your window…

Well, let's just say you didn’t hesitate to take it, despite your entire being telling you to run and get the fuck out of there.

I mean, what is the fun in life if you don’t take a little risk?

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You stare at the tall humanoid being standing in front of you, before looking up at where his face would be if he had one asking,

“Are you going to kill me?” your tone was indifferent and your eyes held no fear, only curiosity of what is to come,

That intrigues him, how does a mortal like you show such indifference to death? Are you not afraid of the things he could do to you?

Out of impulse he slithered out a tentacle and picked you up by your shirt, before walking back to the mansion.

He has enough time on his hands to keep a pet and to test just how far your indifference will go.

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It's been about 3 months since you have been here, and the curiosity Slenderman has for you has only increased.

After all, not all mortals have the audacity to chase Jeff around the mansion with a chainsaw, after being waken up by him saying,

“Go to sleep!”

The first time he saw it, like the very first day he took you back the entire mansion had the pleasure of witnessing you chasing down Jeff while screaming profanity,

“Go to sleep, my ass! You fucking slut! I'm about to make you go to sleep!”

Slenderman watched in amusement as he wrote down in a journal,

Dislike being woken up in the middle of the night.

“Is that my chainsaw???” Ask one of the proxies watching the chaos,

Good at taking stuff without people noticing

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The entire mansion knows you were Slenderman’s pet/property and you seem to take that role with stride. Fitting in almost immediately with the rest of the proxy.

Most of them had tried to kill you at some point, since Slenderman wasn't going to stop them.

Survival of the fittest after all, you might be his pet but your life was not his concern.

But he was pleasantly surprised to see you managing to fight back and survive against the horror that live within his home.

You are truly entertaining...

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And annoying.

So very annoying.

Do you not understand that he could kill you at a moment's notice?

You probably do, and just simply don't care.

He sighed as you sat on his desk and looked at what he was doing curiously,

“Hello, (Y/N).”

“Hello, Slendy. What you doing?” you ask as you look at the paper he’s writing on,

He tilted his blank face toward you, seemingly studying you before saying, "Making a list of things that need to be done,"

You nodded your head before asking again,

“Soooo is the suit you wear an actual suit, or is it your skin? If it's the latter are you naked all the time? If it's the former where have you been getting these suits?”

Dear god, you always seem to have so many questions.

“That is none of your business, pet. I can kill you in a moment's notice, do you not have the concept of self-preservation?” he sounded annoyed by your never-ending questions,

“Nope none at all,” you said cheerfully,

Your smile was bright and cheerful, but he saw nothing in your eyes. Only the cold indifference to the world around you that he has gotten used to in the last few months.

He doesn’t like that, you’re his pet and you should look at him in either adoration or fear. Not the cold indifference in you have in your eyes right now.

He will teach you to either love or fear him, after all, he hasn’t seen either of those emotions on you before.

Your eyes widen and you let out a panicked scream when he suddenly lifted you up with his tentacles.

One of his tentacles wrapped around your throat, a silent warning for you to shut up, while another wrapped around your eyes. Not tight enough for you to be uncomfortable, but enough to make your field of vision nothing but darkness.

“I think it's time to teach you a lesson, pet,”

Your body trembled as Slenderman's tentacle slipped under your clothing to wrap around your body, your body getting goosebumps from the coolness of his tentacle.

“S-slendy? What the fuck are you doing?” you asked trembling unsure of what was happening,

Slenderman didn’t bother answering you, only using his tentacles to rip through your clothing, leaving your body bared and naked under the frigid night air.

You let out a soft gasp/moan as you felt his tentacles curling around various parts of your body tightly. The lack of sight makes your body more sensitive, as you have no idea what he will do to you next, anticipation and fear coursing through your body.

Slenderman can feel your body tensing up as he begins pushing a tentacle into your fold. Your body shaking in pain from his action.

He has heard of humans feeling pleasure and pain from sexual intercourse, yet he never thought to try it out on you.

Never too late to try, I guess…

He does enjoy the soft whimper that you make as his tentacles play with your body, causing a feeling he’s unfamiliar with in his body.

You let out a scream as he shoved the tentacles forcefully into you, your body clenching tightly around his tentacles as he began to thrust them inside you.

“F-fuck! I-I'm sorry okay? You’re hurting me!” You cried out as he spread your leg apart so he can have easier access to your cunt,

As your cry gets louder and louder, Slenderman can tell you are getting close to your climax.

His assumption was correct when you gave a loud whine and your body shuddered violently around his tentacles. Your juice rushed out from around his tentacles, staining his carpet.

He felt pleased when he saw your mouth open panting from the sensation. Your body flushed a delicious pink, as his tentacles played with your body. He dragged you closer to him so he could study your reaction more closely.

"I wonder how would you feel if I played with you like this more often... Would you enjoy it?" His voice was almost void of emotion except for a hint of curiosity as he held you in his arm forcing you to stay still as his tentacles had their way with you,

“F-fuck…s-slendy take it out… i-im sorry okay? I-i will be good…” you sobbed out desperately as you tried to hold on to him,

With an almost unexpected spark of amusement and curiosity from your reaction, Slenderman pulled his tentacles out of you, leaving you writhing in discomfort and confusion. Just as you try to catch your breath, he slams his tentacle back into you harder than before, causing you to cry out in pain and shock.

As he watches your body convulse on his tentacle, he decides that he enjoys the feeling of doing this to you, to watch you struggle and cry on his tentacles. To watch you who, is usually indifferent to what people do to you, reduce to a crying begging mess.

“Have you learned your lesson, pet?” He asked as he forced multiple tentacles inside you,

You let out a loud desperate cry as you came over and over on his tentacle,

“Y-yes! I learn my lesson, ma-master please!”

The pleasure was breaking your mind and your shell, it was forcing your soul to endure this painful pleasure as Slenderman dealt out his lesson and punishment toward you.

With a dark chuckle, Slenderman watched as you writhed and cried in pain. Your back arched as your body clenched his tentacles tightly. He wondered if you had ever felt such pleasure before, or if you even enjoyed it. Regardless of your feelings, it was his duty to torment his pet in any way he pleased.

The pleasure built inside you, becoming unbearable as your insides trembled from the brutal way he was fucking his tentacles inside you. Your mind is fogged, and you can only scream for it to stop.

As you let out another sob, your body climaxing again, Slenderman finally removed all his tentacles from you, before holding you in his arm.

You sobbed into his chest, your body feeling like it's been abused and run over. You can feel his hand on your back in an almost comforting motion.

Slenderman wrapped his arms around your trembling form, feeling the faint pulse of life against his chest. His mind was filled with curiosity, desire, satisfaction, and a lingering fascination for human pleasure.

He decided that he liked having you feel like this, to have your eyes all glassy as you looked up at him.

To feel like he has tainted and dragged you into the darkness that surrounded him.

You hiccuped one last time as your body calmed down, before slipping your hand under his suit and saying,

“S-so this is an actual suit…” you looked down at the black secretion on your body that was left behind by his tentacles as you continued, “A-are these like your cum? I think there's some inside me, will I get pregnant?”

As you rambled on Slenderman can feel a vein throbbing in his forehead…

Why are you like this?

His arms tighten around you as he begins carrying you to his bedroom, taking care to make sure no one sees the two of you.

“It seems like you need another lesson, pet…”

He has all the time in the world to teach you how to obey him and to discover everything you have to offer…

[pedgito]

Hii omg i just discovered you account and I’m obsessed with you writing 🖤

I have a request if that’s okay

Something like reader has this big crush (kinda obsession lol) with Eddie she’s always looking at him, going to the Hideout every tuesday to watch him perform and buys him weed but she doesn’t actually smokes and eddie notices that and thinks is cute so, so when she meets him in the woods to buy weed eddies like “i know you aint smoking that, why dont you tell me what you really want from me? Why dont you just ask me yo fuck you” or something like that 😩

author’s note: full disclaimer, i'm so sleep deprived on nyquil from how sick i've been, so this will either be really good smut, or complete disjointed and all over the place, either way, i hope it's not too horrible lol

cw: 18+ (minors dni), pining!reader (but also eddie too), god complex!eddie (if you squint) fingering/sex in the back of his van, lots of teasing, protected sex!! (i know, such a shocker coming from me), i'm probably missing something so just lmk!

word count: 5k

You didn’t think it was the best idea, but it made the most sense. Buy the weed, talk to Eddie, offer it up to some stoner willing to pay the same price—it had been seamless, almost too easy, and Eddie never seemed to question it either, despite the fact that you were as clean-cut and proper as it got, you’ve never been around anyone while they were smoking weed, let alone do it yourself. The prospect was terrifying, fear that you might lose control over your body and thoughts, end up being one of the people that experienced terrible highs—so you steered clear of actually trying it for yourself. Besides, it was the only excuse it gave you to talk to Eddie.

It wasn’t that he fully ignored you—you still had classes together, passed each other in the hall on occasion, but you both ran in completely different groups, which didn't leave much room to get to know each other or even have a normal conversation. 

You wouldn’t call it obsession, either—because Eddie seemed as intrigued to talk to you as you were to him—you were an enigma he couldn’t figure out, so many mysteries wrapped up into one, he was dying to figure you out. And sometimes your friends like to sneak over to The Hideout, it’s not the first, second, or even third choice of hangout spots on your list—but Eddie performs weekly, every Tuesday night, it was a highlight of what was usually a very dreary, miserable day. You tried hard not to be noticed, always shoving yourself in the furthest corner of the bar, the lights dimmer near the back, which helped obscure your face—though Eddie, he spotted you the moment you walked in, every time, but you didn’t need to know that. 

It goes on for weeks, nearly three months into the beginning of your senior year—and Eddie’s third go at it, until he feels the itch, the nerve, just to say something. He doesn’t really know what to expect of it, but he’s curious. Eddie doesn’t understand why you’re always so skittish or nervous around him, keeping a few feet away, but staring at him like there was nothing more important on your mind—you had the prettiest smile, which Eddie had been on the receiving end of more than a few times. He just wanted to know more about you—and why you thought buying weed from him was your only option; frankly, you were taking away from his business in some form, buying a hefty amount with no real use, he could’ve been dragging in new customers with that merchandise, but you disposed of it like nothing. Eddie was challenged in some form, unable to focus and pass his classes like the rest of his classmates, but he wasn’t dumb—you didn’t reek of weed, not like most of the people he sold to, you always agreed with what he offered, never arguing on price or strains—you had no idea what you were doing, it was so blatantly obvious. Eddie tried to play it off as long as he could, but it hit him one day—nestled on the edge of the picnic table, feet dangling just above the freshly fallen leaves, the dried foliage cracking beneath your feet.

“I’m gonna have to start giving you discounts,” Eddie comments jokingly, a slight hint of teasing in his voice as passes you the small sandwich sized bag of weed, dangling it in front of you, “you’re drilling through my product with these weekly meetups.”

“Sorry,” You reply lamely, grabbing the baggie and shoving it into your pocket quickly, shoving your other hand into the pocket to match, yanking your jacket over your middle as you talked to him, insecure of his openly he looked at you—it was like he could see right through you, “I guess I can buy less, if it’s really a problem.”

“No, no,” Eddie stammers, hands shaking out in front of him, he turns around to fiddle with the items in his chest—a mess of different items: papers for rolling, more weed, a lighter, and a fat wad of cash. You were completely out of your element with him, all the time, “—you know, since you’re such a loyal customer, I was thinking—“

“What?” You reply eagerly, forgetting self control for a moment, face blushing a deep red, cheeks burning like you’d just stood over a fire.

Eddie laughs softly, reaching in to pull a joint between his fingers—new and untouched. He’s got a look on his face, like he’s about to engage in a dangerous game, ready to pull you down with him. It’s terrifying, but you’re nearly on your tiptoes now, shifting awkwardly in the silence—maybe you should run. 

Instead, you stay, “I was gonna offer you a freebie.” Eddie admits, placing the joint between his soft, pink lips, flicking at the lighter with difficulty—he hits the bottom a few times, still nothing. The calluses on his fingers were a pain in the ass and he wants to put you on the spot, seeing if you crack under the pressure. It’s the perfect opportunity. “Do you mind?” He asks, voice muffled around the joint in his mouth.

You nod hesitantly, pulling the lighter from his grip gently—it wasn’t the first time you’ve ever held a lighter, you weren’t that clueless, but to try and think of a way out of this situation, it seemed impossible. You flick the lighter a few times, the flame finally coming to life, Eddie leans forward slowly, letting the end burn until it smokes, inhaling quickly. You make a subtle move back, pressing the lighter into his hand. You squint, the haze of smoke hitting your face. It makes your eyes water and your nose burn, you hate it. The appeal was never apparent to you—and you didn’t judge Eddie, but it always seemed so pointless to you, throwing away money for a temporary high. 

“Here,” Eddie says roughly, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment, breathing out as you took the joint from his fingers, “—it’s good shit, I promise.”

You pluck it delicately, held between your thumb and pointer finger—it’s so close, maybe you could just fake it, but now Eddie’s staring at you, waiting. You’re scrambling for a reason to weasel your way out of this. 

“I, uh—I can’t, Eddie.” You tell him softly, passing the joint his way, “My parents will know, I can’t just go home smelling like that.”

He stifles the laugh at your choice of words, the irony so relevant.

“I can smell the weed I gave you from your pocket,” Eddie points out, “how do you explain that?”

“I leave it in my bag—and then I move it, I don’t keep it in the house.” You explain weakly. Your heart is hammering in your chest, the sound of blood rushing and pounding in your ears. 

“How often do you smoke then?” Eddie asks curiously, trying to seem less abrasive with his questions. He wants to catch you in your lie, but he doesn’t want to scare you away.

He’s always been intrigued with, infatuated—he didn’t want you running in the other direction. 

You didn’t know what sounded believable, so you settled on, “Uh—every other day, sometimes twice on the weekends.”

That bag was enough weed to last anyone a month, as long as they didn’t overindulge. Eddie pushed in further, pointing out the slight inconsistency.

“Oh—because I usually only give that much to the real, real heavy smokers—they smoke at least twice a day, every day, and it still takes them a couple weeks to move through that much product.”

And if you heart couldn’t physically drop to your stomach, it still definitely felt like it.

“Uh, it’s—uh,” You try desperately to recover, “I share with friends too, so it goes pretty quick.”

“Aren’t you generous?” Eddie teases, having smoked through nearly half the joint by now, “Your nerdy little friends? The one’s in that book club?”

It was a soft jab, a pot calling the kettle black.

“It’s not nerdy,” You defend passionately, “you literally play D&D. That’s not fair.”

The squeak in your voice has Eddie smiling behind the joint, appreciating just how fiery you could be. 

“Why do you even care?” You ask, frustrated with him, it felt like he was picking on you for no reason. 

Eddie sighs softly, “I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” He stresses out, hoping you’ll relax, he sees your shoulders settle and takes that as a sign, “I’m just trying to figure you out—we talk a lot in passing, but I barely know you.”

It’s all your fault, your shyness, your innate fear of being caught in your lies—they were harmless, but it still felt wrong.

“It’s okay.” You tell him quietly, hands fisted in your pockets in tight balls of frustration. 

Eddie laughs to himself, nodding for you to take a seat on the bench, you're hesitant but listen anyways, taking whatever bait he is offering. If you weren’t going to fess up, Eddie was going to drop his knowledge of it to you and wait for your reaction—it could go horribly, but it was worth the risk. It wasn't like he couldn’t notice the way stared at his lips every time he took a drag from the joint, or how he licked his chapped lips frequently, chewed at his bottom one out of habit; you were mesmerized. 

“I wanna show you something,” He explains, squeezing in beside you, the rough material of his jeans rubbing against the outside of your leg, the prickle of the wood digging into your thighs where your dress didn’t cover, he grabs his supplies and sets the rolling paper out, a small bagging already ground up weed that was ready to go, and makes a small motion with his hand, “but I wanna see how well you do it first.”

“Eddie—“ You panic, glancing between him and the items in front of you. You didn’t have the slightest clue how to roll a joint, you wouldn’t even know where to start, Eddie looks at you pointedly, eyebrows raised slightly in question, “—I, uh—“

Eddie moves silently, grabbing the supplies for himself, working quickly and expertly, like he’d done it a million times. It’s surprisingly fascinating, eyes locked on his tongue as it pokes out to seal the paper together, his eyes flicking to your momentarily.

He set it down gently, hand curled up on the table as he looked at you, other hand resting against his thigh, he fiddled with his rings with the pad of his thumb, letting the silence linger for a moment.

Then finally, “You've never smoked before,” Eddie deduces, smirk crawling up his face, “have you?”

You shake your head slightly in defeat, his fingers curl against the denim, he is desperately holding back, your wide eyes staring up at him. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to buy weed to talk to me.”

And if you weren’t dying of embarrassment before, you were now.

“That’s—that’s not,” You fumble with your words, trying to find some kind of remark or comeback, or just explain yourself—nothing ever comes.

“What’s the real reason?” Eddie’s turned toward you now, leg swung over the bench so he’s straddling it, facing you’re curled in body, still struggling to keep your distance, jacket hugged right around your midsection. 

“My friend’s are scared of you,” You admit, eyes turned down toward the table, “—I had to find a way to talk to you without seeming obvious.”

Oh, it was very obvious. Eddie doesn’t want to strike you while you’re down though, so he keeps that to himself. 

“So, you like me?” He teases, nudging your arm with the soft touch of his knuckle, smiling sweetly at you. If your heart wasn’t already pounding out of your chest, it was definitely going to burst if he kept looking at you like that. 

You shrug indifferently—you weren’t sure of what your feelings were; curiosity, yes—the idea of trying not to obtain something seemed impossible, it was intriguing, to say the least, and it wasn’t like you were immune to all the rumors about Eddie. People constantly talked about him around school—either hateful or downright rude, but there were a few that talked about him like he was god personified—you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself religious, but it wasn’t going to stop you from finding out how true those rumors were.

“Like is a strong word,” You laugh slightly, crossing your left leg over your right, shoes shifting together under the table. You felt a few raindrops hit your shoulder, pulling you both from the intense conversation, “—I should probably go.”

“Wait—“ Eddie stops you, grasping the wrist of the hand that was still shoved firmly in your pocket, “—don’t go.”

And against every fiber of your being, you nod, letting him lead you down a path you weren’t sure you’d be able to feel remorse over.

“Why do you park so far away from the school?” You ask randomly, letting him drag you along the way, feet desperate to keep up with his wide strides. 

“Principal Higgins would skin my ass if he found out I was smoking on campus in the mornings,” Eddie explains, glancing back at your briefly as he reaches to open the rear of his van, giving you a full view of the back—it was surprisingly unmessy, aside from a few empty cans of beer and some suspiciously wadding up pieces of tissues and magazine pages, it wasn’t unwelcome—though, it reeked of weed and cigarettes, “—well, here’s my home away from home—trailer, whatever.”

Your parents would surely kill you if you went home smelling like either of those. 

Eddie leans inside, allowing you to crawl underneath the bridge his arm made, pointedly avoiding the opportunity for him to look up your dress, turning on your backside to scoot in beneath him—he looks mostly unphased, maybe you were reading into this too much. It could just be an innocent gesture to get to know you, altering motives aside—not that you would mind; you were hoping for it, selfishly enough.

You strip off your jacket once you’re seated, feet crossed out in front of you as you lay your jacket over your lap. Eddie closes the doors with a rough tug, nearly knocking himself on his ass, before finally taking a seat across from you, let’s outstretched around your own, one foot planted against the floorboard to allow him to rest a hand on his knee. 

“So—what did you want to—“ You start, quickly interrupted by Eddie motioning you over, you hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not it was worth it—your body moves on its own accord though, pushing up with your fingertips until you’re crawling toward him, breast peeking through the fabric that hung down. Eddie didn’t avert his gaze, though you’re almost positive his eyes are solely locked in yours, heated and intense as he stared you down, face still holding every bit of its softness.

You shift to sit beside him, but his hand comes up to stop you, “Come here,” His voice is soft, pleasing—like he knows what you want, it’s exactly what he needs, he’s more than willing to give you whatever you were hoping for, “right here.” He instructs, watching as you hesitantly swung your leg over his thigh, his left shifting down to accommodate room for you, the back of your thighs settling against the top of his, dress flowing out over his jeans, covering all the rips and holes that showed off his pale skin.

Eddie’s hands slip over the fabric of your dress gently, testing his boundaries, still holding his gaze on your face, “Why don’t you tell me what you really want?” He asks with a hint of knowing to his voice—he just wanted to hear you say it. “No more lies—or buying weed off of me for no reason.”

You put petulantly, shoulders falling slack as you watched his hands travel further up your dress, settling on your waist, the heat of his hands seeping through the thin cotton material, he squeezed gently, you gasped, “I’ve heard…things.” It’s a lame response, but it’s all you can manage.

“Things?” Eddie mocks, fingers coming around to fiddle with the tie on your dress, only lingering and never pulling, he wouldn’t take that step unless you allowed him.

“Girls talk about—you—and how good you are at,” His ringed fingers slip under the string, pulling against the strings, “stuff—like, with sex and all that.”

Eddie chuckles darkly, pulling a hand away to tilt your head up to look at him, rubbing tenderly at the skin of your jaw, “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”

If only it were that easy—you’d never be bold enough to say it, not without a heavy amount of coercion, and a lot of teasing, it seemed pathetic to say it so simply—part of you enjoyed the game he was playing at. 

“I’m not like that,” You confess, “—too scared.”

Eddie nods slightly, “Too shy,” He notes, thumb dragging along your pursed lips, pulling them apart gently, “that’s okay.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” You laugh nervously, “I still—still think you’re really cute,” You admit, “and you’re so nice to me—“

“An adorable girl who buys all my weed and will do anything to talk to me?” Eddie asks redundantly, “I’d be stupid not to be.”

Eddie takes a moment, breaking the heated facade, “Say—what have you been doing with all the weed?”

You wonder if you should lie, deciding if it’s worth confessing over—but it seemed like everything was already being laid bare, “Uh, this guy—his name is Rick. I sold it to him really cheap, I just wanted to get rid of it.”

“Rick?” Eddie questions like he wants you to elaborate.

“Always smells like weed, looks kinda homeless—he hangs out behind the Rec center near my house.” You tell him honestly, and Eddie can feel the proverbial light bulb switching on in his head.

“You’re selling weed back to Reefer Rick?” He asks with a slight hint of incredulousness in his voice—it bordered on betrayal.

“I—I don’t know who he is!” You say defensively, “He didn’t seem sketchy or anything—did I do something wrong?”

“No—it’s just—“ Eddie laughs at the ridiculousness of it all, “—I’m not selling you anymore weed, sweetheart.”

“That’s fair,” You say on a small sigh, “stuff is gross anyways.”

“And you’re sitting on the lap of Hawkins second biggest pothead,” Eddie challenges, “so what does that say about you?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try you,” You reply boldly, voice still too soft and innocent, “—it’s not the same, you know.”

Eddie pulls his bottom lip between his teeth slowly, like he’s struggling to hold off whatever is eating at him, eyes half lidded and staring straight through you. 

“Tell me what you want.” Eddie demands slowly, other hand joining your face, adjusting your head until it’s locked between his grip, assuring you tell him directly rather than to your lap.

“I want you to touch me.” You admit shyly, his face pulling up in a smile

“I am touching you.” He points out; the smartass he’s known to be. “Show me.”

Shaky hands pull at his fingers, curling around his open palm until his hand is settled under your dress, pressed against the sticky, wet material of your underwear—there is no reason to feel shame now, not with the full grin that spreads across his face.

“I knew it.” He snarls, fingers rubbing soft circles into the material, the cold press of the fabric making you squirm, “How long?”

“How long?” You repeat, confused at his questioning.

“Since you’ve been touched.” He clarifies.

“A few months,” You tell him, “I had this thing back in the summer—whatever, it doesn’t really matter—“

Eddie laughs at you rambling, an attempt to settle your rattled nerves. “It’s fine—I was just gonna say you’re really wet—I’ve never, never touched a girl for the first time and had it feel like that,” He tells you honestly, “it takes time—god, can’t believe I could’ve had you all this time.”

“All this time?” 

“You really think it was all one-sided?” Eddie asks, “Sweetheart—I’ve known for weeks that you weren’t smoking that weed.”

“I guess I wasn’t very smart about it.”

Eddie shakes his head in amusement, “Doesn’t matter—we’re here now. Can I touch you?”

“You are.”

“Not how I want to.”

Your eyes widen at his admission, nodding shakily in response. His hand slipped under the fabric of your panties, one large finger running down your folds, ghosting over your already sensitive clit, dipping his finger inside of you instantly, a sharp gasp ripping from your chest as you gripped his shoulders, leaning forward slightly at the sudden intrusion.

Eddie looks up at you, your mouth hanging open slightly as he works his finger inside of you slowly, “Can I?” He asks, mouth parted slightly as he looks down toward your breasts, soft skin peeking out the top of your dress.

You nod fervently, exasperated by his constant polite questioning. “Eddie—stop asking, just do it.”

“Just wanna be sure.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want it—all of it.” You tell him honestly, “Plus, it’s ruining the whole—thing everyone says about you.”

“Thing?” He laughs softly, mouthing over your breasts.

“They—they say you’re like—I don’t know,” You feign the importance of it, it doesn’t really matter, “that you’re a god—with, you know.”

“A god?” Eddie teases, testing the word on his tongue, taking a small nip at your chest, your breath catching, “You think I’m a god?”

“Not me,” You shake your head, “it’s just what I’ve heard.”

“But, I’m sure you thought about it—so be honest with me.”

You sigh, shoving his face against your breasts to muffle his endless rant, “Jury’s still out—we’ll see.”

Eddie hums against your skin, dragging his tongue through the valley of your breasts, somehow having worked another finger inside you without you noticing, so caught in staring at his mouth that it’s an afterthought, but then he’s curling his fingers and you can’t do anything but moan, head falling back in anguish, your stomach tightening at the sensation.

“Condoms?” Eddie asks hopefully, he could feel his cock straining painfully against the line of his zipper, he was sure you felt it too, he wanted nothing more than to relieve that ache. 

“Oh, fuck—no, I don’t have any.” You say with deep regret, wishing you had thought ahead, had some type of courage that you could turn things into more, but no—and now here you were. 

“Wait—“ Eddie yelps, pulling back from your chest, “—passenger side, under the dash,” He points in that direction, removing his hand gently to allow you to scramble toward the front of the van, yanking open the compartment to find two dust covered foil packets.

“God—these things have to be a hundred years old,” You complain, grabbing at the items and returning to Eddie, tossing them into his lap, “are we sure that’s safe?”

Eddie takes a hesitant look, nodding gleefully as he reads the black print, “Thank god—they’re still good for a few months.” You look at him with narrowed eyes, wondering why he had such a decrepitated pair stashed away.

“We got them during one of those safe sex classes,” He says defensively, “better safe than tied down with a kid, right?”

He had a point—plus, you were more than eager to move things along.

You reach for the tie of your dress, struggling to find the string at this ankle, Eddie noticed, “Hey, don’t worry about—“ He says soothingly, “just take your underwear off—they’re already soaked to nothing anyways.”

“God—shut up,” You reply lightheartedly, stripping yourself of the garment before returning to his lap, watching as he pulled himself out of his pants in hurry, red leaking tip screaming for relief, holding the shaft firmly in his hand while he ripped at the foil with his teeth, grabbing the rubber and throwing the trash to the side.

“Wait—“ You interrupt, pointing at the condom in between his teeth, “can I?”

Normally he’d find it weird, but it was the ultimate turn on when it came from you—curious hands and curious minds, he couldn’t deny you that.

“I’ve just—never,” Most guys refused to wear condoms, so it was kind of fascinating, “—forget it.”

“Oh—of course,” He obliged, handing the protection over to you, watching as you slowly rolled the latex over his tip, down his shaft, until it stopped near the base, fingertips brushing through his curls faintly, “—I always wear one, I don’t see why guys complain about it. It really doesn’t make a difference.”

You laugh softly, “Well, aren’t you a gentleman?”

“A godly gentleman, I hope.”

Your smirk softly, guiding your hips over his own, letting him rub his wide, aching tip through your folds, gathering up some of your slick before slipping in slowly, allowing you to adjust to the girth of him. You let out a quiet sigh, hips rocking slightly as you forced him deeper and deeper, a collective groan from the both of you when he was fully seated inside you.

“Let me untie your dress,” Eddie practically begs, yearning for the sight of your bare breasts and soft stomach as he fucked into you, wanting to see your body shift with every movement, “yeah?”

You nod, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you shifted your hips slightly, small lifted motions as you moved against his dick, Eddie muffled the groans in the alcove of your neck, fumbling with the tie until the dress fell loose, pooling at your hips.

“There we go.” He sighs in relief, pulling at your arms until they’re resting at your side, giving him the perfect view of you, so wound up and panting for relief, hair askew and in your face, much like his own. “Touch yourself, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t a new concept, you did it often—just never in the presence of others. But, Eddie sent a surge of confidence through you, something completely unexpected. Your fingertips dragging against the skin gently, body breaking out in goosebumps at the sensation, you squeeze at your breasts, receiving a small grunt from Eddie as he thrust into your harder, eyes locked on you, alternating between your working hands and exasperated face. 

“Fuck—I thought you were so innocent,” He laughs warmly, hands gripping at your hips, thumbs digging into the curve of the bone settled their, rocking you in time with his eager thrusts, forceful and totally in control, “guess I was wrong.”

“Surprise.” You mock breathlessly, the soft mounds of flesh squeezed gently between your hands, thumbs rubbing over the hardened buds testingly—you’ve never been super responsive, but then Eddie is reaching his tongue out, following the drag of your thumb, and that concept flies completely out of the window.

“You gonna come on my dick?” He asks teasingly, mouthing at the undersized of your breasts, “—think you can come without me touching you, sweetheart?”

You shake your head in a hurry, the thought was like torture, but Eddie doesn’t budge, removing his hands from you fully, resting against the side of his van, arms outstretched at his side. You stop for a moment, frustrated.

“That’s not fair.” You pout slightly, earning an amused laugh from Eddie.

“If you want it so bad—you’ll get what you need,” Eddie tells you, his thighs nudging your hips forward slightly, causing him to slip even deeper, “take what you need, okay?”

You look at him with a heated gaze, lust and anger laced together, “Lay down.” You order, watching as he shifts eagerly, allowing you full room to stretch your hands over his chest as he lays back, giving you the perfect amount of space to lose yourself, rocking your hips at a pace that has Eddie choking on air, palms pressed firmly against the material of his shirt, gripping slightly for assistance. 

“Fuck—okay,” Eddie pants, meeting your thrust with fervor, “I see how it is—shit, please tell me your close.”

“So close,” You whine, “God—so fucking close.”

Eddie makes a noise, “Mmm, not god, sweetheart.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh through baited breath, mouth hung open on a wordless gasp as he thrust into your harshly, hitting a spot so deep that you’re curling forward at the suddenness, nearly coming then, but you try to hang on, “Eddie—-shit—“

“It’s alright.” He nods, hair messy and bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, rubbing your thighs tenderly, letting you rock your hips with such an intensity that he can’t hold back any longer, coming almost immediately after you, both of your desperate gasps of pleasure mixing together, cunt clenching tightly around him as you came, almost completely untouched—it was intense and visceral and like nothing you’ve ever felt. Eddie pants loudly, letting out a sudden laugh when you finally lock eyes.

“Oh, don’t look so smug.” You chide, shoving at him gently. 

Eddie doesn’t respond, leaning up to kiss you without warning, you make a noise of surprise, not offended in the slightest, but deeply caught off guard. Eddie pulls away slowly, staring at you hesitantly.

“That felt overdue, I’m sorry.” Eddie apologizes.

He doesn’t expect you to return the same eagerness, nearly toppling him back, lips pressed against him with all the energy and feeling you could muster, indulging in the simple act of kissing him. You’ve never experienced anything this special; so raw and real, it was exhilarating. 

Eddie slips out of you gently, tying up the condom and disposing of it in the front of his van, a small trash can nestled underneath the dash—it was filled to the brim already, which wasn’t surprising. You dress quickly, watching as Eddie shifted and tucked himself back inside his jeans quietly, eyes lingering on you the entire time. 

“No more excuses, okay?” Eddie says, “I get it if you don’t want to be seen with me at school—I can live with that, but seriously—I like you.”

You smile sweetly, tugging at your jacket pocket until it falls open, “I like you too, Eddie.” You find the bag of weed with ease, tossing it in his direction. “Keep the money, I don’t need it.”

Eddie catches it with one hand, “Same time next week then?”

You nod eagerly, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his cheek, “Don’t be late.”

[fcthots]

I'm literally tearing up this morning at the idea of Tim sitting in the cave, trying to get some important work done like usual when suddenly a wave of darkness ascends upon the cave. Like something out of a horror movie, dread washes over Tim as he fearfully creaks his head around to see Gus sitting on the chair, looking over Tim's shoulder—MENACINGLY.

I had so much fun writing this.

It was 5 am and everyone else had gone to bed. There was a fear gas attack and while no one had been unable to put on their rebreather, the manor was still on lockdown, though, just to monitor in case of any delayed effects. Tim wasn't supposed to be on the batcomputer but it was important! He was doing research on the new chemicals Scarecrow had added to his toxin and if their addition changed the effects of the formula as compared to the original. As it turns out, he was right. It seemed that now prolonged exposure could cause delayed effects. Fuck, Tim loves being right! He starts recording any other new effects the toxin may have.

A chill hits him. The hairs on the back of his neck raise. He can feel eyes with malicious intent watching him. After being robin for so long, he knows what the stare of a real threat feels like as it watches its prey. Fuck. Someone must have gotten into the cave. He thinks of yelling for Kon, but Kryptonians can't hear into the cave. His family is all asleep in their respective bedrooms, and there's no one that can get to him in time. He hasn't acknowledged their presence yet, so he could pick up his phone and pretend to send a funny text to a friend but actually text the other bats, but that could also backfire if his intruder swooped in while he was vulnerable.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Maybe his rebreather was cracked. Maybe this is all just delayed fear gas effects. Maybe one of his siblings hadn't handed all of their gear off to be washed and he's just getting a mini whiff of the gas, and that's why he feels the eyes of a predator on his back.

He hears something rustle.

Ok, so not a hallucination, probably. Auditory hallucinations usually take exposure to copious amounts of gas, but maybe this was all part of the new strand.

He could feel them getting closer. He slowly wraps his hand round a battarang that was left on the desk. He can't see anything in the reflection of the screen. On the count of three he has to turn around and face his opponent.

Three. Fuck, he's exhausted.

Two. He's too tired to be doing this.

One. Bruce is gonna kill him if he dies.

Go.

He turns around and stands all in one motion, staying as low to the ground as possible. He doesn't have long to take in all of his surroundings, so he does it quick. This would be so much easier if he had his mask, which can track the heat of body signatures, but he took it off so Alfred could clean it. He really hopes Alfred isn't the one to find his body.

He doesn’t see anything in his immediate line of sight. He keeps his body moving, so he's a harder target. He looks everywhere else. Nothing. Maybe it's an LOA assassin. Ra's needs to get off his dick already.

But he looks even in the spots where a ninja would be trained to hide, and... nothing. Nothing at all. An alarming amount of nothing. By his calculations there was an 85% chance that it wasn't a hallucination. He drops his fighting stance. He did forget to factor in his sleep deprivation...

As soon as his guard is down, he is immediately attacked from behind. He whirls around and drops back into a fighting stance. His training kicks in. Don’t look at the affected area first, look at your attacker first. He ignores the pain in his leg and looks to where they would have to be standing and...nothing. He looks down to his leg.

Fucking Gus.

"Get off of me, asshole!! Why are you even here? Can Jason seriously not sleep without his cat fucking night?" Tim tries to peel Gus's claws out of him where Gus's limbs are wrapped around his leg. "Ow! Fuck! Don't bite me! This is why I don’t pet you. Get. The. Fuck. Off. Of. Me."

He finally tosses Gus off his leg and Gus runs away impressively fast for a cat if his size.

Tim yells out across the batcave, "I never thought I could hate a cat until I met you!"

[alienoresimagines]

I wish you would write a fic (canon era, modern au, any setting really) where Buck is sick and Bucky fusses over him. Maybe with Buck’s head in Bucky’s lap?

I loved your fic of Bucky watching Buck sleep, so anything with that type of vibe? ❤️

I don't know the difference between a snippet and an actual fic so this is 1.4k 😅 But hey, Gale's awake for this one! Thank you so much for this inspiring ask, I've been writing angst for a week so going back to fluff felt really good 🥰❤️ Featuring : A sick Gale and a worrywart Bucky Also on AO3 Find my other Mota fics here

"Do you need anything ? Blanket ? Water ?" His hands hover over Gale's shivering form but the other weakly bats his hand away when John reaches out to check his fever.

"M'fine, Bucky." Gale's usual deep voice is now raspy and hoarse from too much coughing and Bucky winces in sympathy, knowing how much just saying those few words must've hurt. It also happens to be one of the biggest lies he's ever heard, on the top of his list with Buck's other countless "I'm fine"s he's heard since meeting the other. Bucky's only slightly exasperated.

"Like hell you are." He grumbles unhappily but fondness rounds the edge of every word as he fusses with the army issued blankets until only two unimpressed, slightly hazy with fever, blue eyes could be seen above the green fabric. John has to physically suppress a coo at the sight, sure it wouldn't be welcome, and very much not in the mood to wrestle Gale back in bed a second time.

He's honestly surprised the other held on for as long as he did considering the entire 100th had fallen victim to a nasty cold in the past two weeks, even Bucky himself. Buck had nursed him back to health and despite the pounding headache he remembers, John had enjoyed every minute of it. He would've enjoyed it a lot more though, if this stubborn sweetheart of a man hadn't also decided to take as much of a workload as he could while the rest of them were bedridden, disregarding any signs of his own degrading health.

A hand pulls on his sleeve until he sits on the edge of the bunk, the heat from Gale's body warming his side even through two blankets. Those pills better kick in soon or John might just die from worry. Over a damn cold.

Well, that's not exactly true. Even if the depth of his feelings for Gale still scares him absolutely shitless, he's past the shameful stage of denial. A mere small splinter would be enough to have him worried sick if it was in Gale's finger. But, he considers, maybe he went a bit overboard when he tucked Gale in with all the blankets available. Perhaps just four would be enough... which is why he lets Gale, although unhappily, drop some of the blankets on the bunk next to him. His mouth opens then closes with a click at Buck's glare.

Three blankets it was.

Gale settles again under the remaining covers, graciously letting John adjust them until his neck is covered. His lips, despite being chapped and not as pink as usual, still look so inviting that Bucky has to physically stop himself from pressing his own lips to Buck's. Three days he's been deprived of Gale's kisses and he has never wanted anything more in his life - except for Gale himself. During the two days he was sick, Buck had imposed a no-kissing-on-the-lips rule, much to his own chagrin but he respected Gale's boundary and need for cleanliness. Besides, it's not like he wanted to get Gale sick. And today, on the day he'd been longingly awaiting for 48 endless hours, Buck himself was sick and would refuse Bucky's kisses, he knows. It doesn't stop him from gazing mournfully at those plump lips.

"I was really looking forward to those kisses." He whines dramatically in a defeated sigh, a pang of fondness in his chest at Buck's own saddened eyes. He hasn't been alone in his longing, and the thought sends warmth through his body. Yet, coldness courses through him as he watches guilt overcome sadness when Gale turns his head sideways to avoid looking at him.

"M'sorry." All theatrics forgotten, a frown crosses his face immediately. He leans closer to Buck's face, gently sweeping his hair of his forehead and then cupping his flushed cheek to stroke over a high cheekbone until Gale looks at him.

"Hey, Buck. Listen to me." With his thumb, he tenderly frees Gale's bottom lip from the cage of his teeth. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. Damn cold got everyone, it's no surprise it'd get you too. Nothing shameful 'bout that, okay?"

Later, when the other isn't as miserable as now, John will grouch to him about working himself to the bone instead of going to see Smokey as soon as he’d started feeling bad. Later, he'll make Gale promise to come to him too, if he doesn't feel like talking to their flight surgeon.

The thing is, Gale is John's safe place. With him, he doesn't have to worry about talking too much, touching too much -as much as he could in public- being too much. He just wishes Gale would allow John to be his safe place too. And he knows that Gale allowing him to see that vulnerable side of his is already a huge show of trust. But he wants Gale to trust him not only to catch him when he falls but also to lean on him when he misses a step or falters just a bit.

For now though, he accepts the small nod he gets and relishes in the soft, barely there up of the corners of his lips, which blooms into a sweet smile when Bucky leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"As soon as you're back on your feet, I'm kissing you 'till you push me away." He promises against the too-warm skin of Buck's forehead before pulling back and grinning down at him. Gale looks amused, if a bit tired, but the light in his eyes is one of amused defiance. Even if he doesn't speak, Bucky hears him anyway and it sends thrills of anticipation down his spine. Just a few days more.

There's a moment of silence as John mindlessly plays with sweaty golden strands until Buck blinks slow and long and Gale's warm hand slips into his under the blanket. He has to bite his lips to keep the dopey smile from his face but he does stroke his thumb back and forth the expanse of Gale's knuckles. Shivers still wrack his form, though they did subside a bit compared to minutes ago. It's not nearly enough for Bucky.

"You sure I can't get you anything ?" Buck audibly groans as he opens his eyes just enough to show Bucky just how hard he's rolling his eyes and John snickers sheepishly. He raises the hand not in Gale's soft grip in mock surrender, the amused glint in sky-blue eyes only spurring him on. 

"Sorry, sorry. But really, do you need anything ?" Gale licks his lips once and oh, John knows that look. It's as adorable as it makes his heart ache, the way Gale doesn't look him in the eyes. He thinks of a young boy, barely knee tall, not daring to ask his father anything and imperceptibly clenches his jaw. Softly squeezing Buck's hand in his, he smiles encouragingly when the other faces him.

"Anything, Gale." Tired eyes look at him for a moment, searching for something but John isn't sure what. He keeps his face open, knowing perfectly well there's no way he could hide how he feels about the other man when no one is around. Gale must find whatever he's looking for because he bites his lip slightly, seemingly pleased and content, if a little shy.

John is keeping a tally of how many kisses he's been robbed of.

Minutely, Gale starts scooting over and John huffs a laugh but obediently sits in the spot just vacated, back leaning on the metal headboard. He's barely put his legs on the blankets that Gale immediately presses in close to rest his head on John's lap like a cat pressing his head on his hand until he gets pets.

Bucky might just die of adoration for this sweet, sweet man he's blessed to call his.

He's half convinced the other will start purring when he strokes his fingers through his hair, nails slightly scratching at his scalp like he knows Buck likes but Gale only presses even closer to him until his body is one hot line against John's leg, a happy hum leaving him. He's asleep in one minute flat, face buried in Bucky's lap as the latter keeps playing with his hair, eyes not leaving the even rise and fall of his back.

John's so, so in love that he wonders how he ever thought he wasn't Gale's safe place just as much as Gale was his.

[thekatebridgerton]

Today on stories I'm too sleep deprived to write #XYZ

Sometimes I really think about writing a Polin fanfiction where Penelope marries Lucy's uncle and ends up neglected and abused, but doesn't leave him because of teenage Richard and little Lucy. Until she finds out about the deal to betroth little Lucy to Haselby Junior and how her husband is commiting treason and basically wants to sell his young niece to cover it up. So Penelope finds some will to live after years of just taking the abuse to protect the kids and sells her husband out to the crown, on the condition that the Abernathy title isn't affected.

Cue Lucy's uncle officially dying in a mysterious accident and Penelope moving back to London with little Lucy and young Richard. The Bridgertons and the Featheringtons are happy to have her back but Penelope's marriage has changed her and the first one that notices is Colin.

Penelope doesn't smile anymore, she's busy running the Abernathy estates and putting the fear of God into her teenage nephew because Richard is the darn heir to the Abernathy title and he needs to act like it, David did Richard no good and he really needs a good male influence in his life.

'No Colin not you, the last thing I need is Richard deciding he wants to drop everything and go gallivanting across Europe while his aunt and little sister despair in worry... I meant a male influence like Anthony, or Simon'

Colin starts putting the pieces together about her marriage when he sees that Penelope keeps reassuring Lucy that yes everything in the mansion is all theirs and that nobody can hurt them now. And when she keeps pushing Richard to make friends among the ton so his sister can have a better chance when she's presented.

Basically, id love to see a deconstruction of a situation where Penelope doesn't realize she's turning into her mother. And actually begins to see things from Portia's point of view now that she's officially An unhappy widow who's only joy in life will be to see her wards safely married and enjoying the life she never could.

She's Determined to make up for lost time when it comes to building connections and ensuring Richard and Lucy's future, going as far as policing Lucy's friend circle because ' Lucy is too kind and too naive, any false friend could play her for a fool'

Everyone else thinks Penelope is just being Penelope but Colin can see that she's spiraling under the weight of her worries and the ghost of her former husband, and he wants to help, he keeps showing up to everywhere she goes, trying to bring a smile out of her, encouraging her to think about herself, to dream about love, maybe remarriage, like Francesca, live again with a purpose.

Penelope thinks Colin is cute but annoying and needs to buzz off, she may still think he's handsome and charming but gone are the days she would feel over the moon for sharing a dance with him. The harder he tries to cheer her up, the more upset she gets, who gave Colin the right to see through her? Why is he so fixated on helping her, she's fine, she got rid of David, she's got Lucy and Richard and boatloads of money to do as she pleases! Penelope doesn't need Colin Bridgerton's pity!

Bonus if this is an au in which Colin still remains a bachelor, because he never found the love his parents used to have. And always felt guilty for not saving Penelope from the marriage that ruined her life.

But Colin keeps trying. Almost as if he's in love with her or something, but Penelope no longer believes in love. She's only hopeful for Lucy, because that child deserves true love, Lucy will have everything Penelope never did, Lucy is the future...

Even if Lucy IS developing the same predilection for Eton attending Bridgertons that Penelope did in her youth, Penelope will ignore Gregory's friendly attention to Lucy the same way Portia continues to ignore Colin's attention to her.

This won't backfire, not at all

[oh-no-its-bird]

YOU!!!!!!

[Grabs you by the collar and shakes you]

Youuuuu...

I was scrolling around at way too late at night and saw one of your posts, and I love your posts, so I went to your blog, and bing bada boom, I see the Izuna in Wonderland post and I read through it. I enjoy the writing and the ideas and the art (how dare you be good at both writing and art (affectionate)) and I reach the end and that last drawing.

The one where Madara is like "oh yeah only the Senju could heal u so we have a peace treaty with them now-" That fucking drawing of Madara, has grabbed my by the balls and refused to let go, what the fuck.

He looks so fucking soft and sleepy but like in an unhealthy sick Victorian child way. He looks like he would tell me not to go to school tomorrow bc he likes me but I'd go anyway bc what he really means is like hey take a mental health day bc school is hell, he's just too sleep deprived to realize(care) how evil he sounds. He looks like he either has hair the texture of burnt straw or the fluffiest softest hair imaginable, no in between. He looks like he gives great hugs but could (and would and has) also use those hugs to suffocate someone to death. He looks like a sneeze could kill him and also he is the creator of every virus known to man.

It's the fucking soft yet untamed hair, the creasing and maybe slight puffiness around his eye, the slight coloring (redness I assume) to his nose, the sweat that might be nervousness, might be him having literally worried himself sick at his brother's side and now he has a fever.

I already liked the way you drew Madara, I like all your Madara drawings, but for some reason, this one broke something in me and I can't stop myself from wanting to write fanfiction while spinning this specific Madara around in my head like a rotisserie chicken. Idk if what I'm saying makes sense, it's late, I'm tired, I barely slept last night. I just want you to know that this Madara drawing now lives in my head rent free and if I ever get around to writing the various TobiMada fics in my head, this is how I will imagine him.

Also, love how draw Hashirama too. He looks like a Mii character that got ROM hacked to have a Battle Cats face. And also how grumpy and low effort Tobi looks in here too, his more detailed design is great too. Also I like how you draw Izuna- BASICALLY, I LOVE ALL YOUR CHARACTER DESIGNS, THIS ONE JUST BROKE ME FOR SOME REASON. I'M GONNA STOP WRITING NOW, I NEED TO SLEEP.

I'm fucking crying actually thank you??????? Nicest thing anyone's ever told me about my stuff, I'm gonna explode wtf

Also I can tell you haven't slept in a while so oh my god go do that

Pls take this quick Madara in thanks, I tried to do my best to draw him how I did in the Izuna in Wonderland comic but idk if I did him justice

I've been struggling to find a good way to draw him consistsntly, so I will internalize what u have told me and try to keep that sickly Victorian man energy going forward

[luminouslywriting]

Could you please write a drabble or headcanons where Rosie and you are parents to a one-year-old child, and for the first time in a year, you have a weekend to yourselves where you can be together as a couple after such a long time. You can finally have sex and be as loud as you want, but actually, your definition of a weekend together doesn’t include sex. Instead, all you want to do is be hella lazy, sleep, and eat because you’re tired!

Nonny, this is so tender and I adore this :) Reminder, my requests are wide open and I adore spam! I go back to work tomorrow and then I start prepping for my surgery on the 21st and I'm a bit nervous, so any type of asks are a welcome distraction :) So keep sending them in haha!

More under the cut, cut for length:

-Listen, I think that this man is the epitome of patience and kindness in human form

-So if the occasion comes up that you two, both being sleep-deprived and exhausted from parenting, work, and other responsibilities, have the opportunity to go away for just the two of you, you're both gonna jump on that so quickly

-Perhaps it's that his parents or your parents are coming into town and they want to have some time with their grandbaby

-So they pay for you two to go away to a cabin for the weekend

-And oh hon, it's STRANGE being away from the baby for the first time

-Like, yes, you two are madly in love and you're devoted and adore one another

-But parenting is a whole other ballgame when it comes to a relationship and so it's just weird suddenly not having to worry about the baby and having it just go back to being the two of you and what you want to do

-And maybe the initial thought is about sex and how you two can finally just relax and have uninterrupted mind-blowing sex (several times, I might add)

-But the minute that you actually get to the cabin? Flopping onto the bed and taking the best nap of your life—and he's included in this

-He's all too pleased to just sink into the bed and hold onto you like a damn koala and not have any crying babies or anyone who needs his attention besides you

-So it becomes the most self-care focused weekend

-This man is PAMPERING you

-Because yes, parenting is hard on both of the parents

-But mother's especially? They deserve a little praise and attention for all of the stuff that they do that goes unnoticed or without thanks

-And Rosie strikes me as the type of person who wants you to know how much he truly truly appreciates you

-So whether it be through drawing baths or helping you bathe, cooking your food while you have a catnap in the sun, reading to you while you're trying to rest, or slow-dancing to music, this man is going to deliver on those gestures of love and appreciation

-Additionally, if you're too tired for being participative in sex...well, he's got some remedies for that and he's more than happy to do all the work while he pleasures the hell out of you so you can just relax haha

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

@ckhalloween23 heyyyyyy bestie(s) I know I'm an entire-ass month late, BUT

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

Listen, y'all can't give me a "Serial Killers" prompt and the opportunity to write the dark, unhinged Demetri Alexopoulos of my dreams presented on a silver platter and NOT expect me to go a little apeshit ^^;

Or. A lot apeshit. Because boy did I let this funny little comic relief guy SNAP ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Also, funnily enough, I realized over the course of the last year or so that I'm probably autistic? For the longest time I held off on writing Hawk's POV because I hc him as autistic and I didn't think I could do him justice, but...I've unlocked this Fun Secret Collector's Item now, I guess XD Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz POV acquired!

Decided to give it a stab here, since him having NO fucking idea how to react to Crazy Demetri was just too much fun. Hawk came to me surprisingly easy once I got started, actually??? I mean I've always related to him a lot but I had no idea it was like. An autism thing. I thought it was just an ND thing akisudhlkuhyfu

Head's up to Tory and Robby stans...this may not be the fic for you. You have been warned 👀

CW for blood, violence, knife-threatening, light knifeplay, toxic relationships (although YMMV), mentions of murder, implied slut-shaming, homophobic slurs, and sexual subtext.

Fic under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

***

Hawk’s on his 30th rep when he hears the front door.

He stops mid-jab, the punching bag rattling on its chain as it sways back and forth. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes.

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

He was looking forward to having the house to himself. With his father on a weekend-long business trip and his mother at her Friday night wine hangout, he was finally going to catch up on training without any interruptions.

The last thing he needs is to be outdone by Kyler Park and Robby Fucking Keene.

Hopefully his mom won’t come knocking, pestering him to watch movies or some other frivolous crap. He doesn’t have time for that anymore.

Strange. There’s a notable lack of the jingling and clattering that usually comes from 50 million things being shifted through an oversize purse. Hawk pauses, listening for any noise.

Maybe he imagined it.

“What the hell.” He takes a sip of the Red Bull on his bedside. Some sleep-deprived delirium or whatever it was wasn’t going to fuck up his focus.

Sure, he’s been averaging 5 hours a night, but who gives a shit? It’s not like anyone in high school actually gets enough sleep.

Sensei Kreese said in ‘Nam, they had to be ready to fight on a moment’s notice—geared to slaughter enemies after a mere 30 minutes’ rest in 48 hours. Hawk doesn’t strive for anything less.

The stairs creak.

His mom isn’t usually one for sneaking past his room, but perhaps she’s too tired to be chatty. He thanks the powers that be this seems to be the case, and returns to his reps.

Jab, cross, roundhouse. Jab, cross, roundhouse. Elbow. Knee to the chest.

He counts them out as he goes, power surging through him. Sensei will be sorry he started singing Keene’s praises when Hawk’s a better fighter than that piece of shit ever was.

Because throwing someone off a balcony when they had their guard down was a coward’s move. Typical Miyagi Do bullshit.

God, Hawk hates them. Hypocrites. Losers. Pussies.

He thinks of a new insult every time he lands a punch.

Miguel’s fucking insane for not appreciating what Cobra Kai did to get payback. What Hawk did to get payback.

His fists are starting to ache, fingers burning from being smashed against rubber again and again. Hawk doesn’t care.

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

Jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross—

“You know, at some point, I think you’re as good as you’re going to get at punching.”

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

Dread grips him in frosty talons. His arms still, the punching bag swinging back and smacking his chest.

He gasps, stumbling back. Still, he refuses to look at the doorway.

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

He presses as much venom into the words as possible. Enough intimidation, and Demetri will back down.

He knows now that Hawk is as real a threat as he ever was. And Demetri’s smart enough not to keep poking at a tiger that’s already mauled him.

“In what world would I not remember where you keep your spare keys?” Demetri sneers.

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

Hawk keeps his tone steely, hoping he can kill whatever plans are swimming around his ex-best-friend’s head before they even form. In all likelihood, Demetri’s here to be a nuisance at best and a night-ruiner at worst.

Fucking Demetri. He’s always been such a distraction.

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

He thought he did. But Demetri is apparently either too stupid or too obsessed with the past to be properly scared away.

Irritating, but admittedly also interesting. It shows a kind of boldness that he wouldn’t expect Demetri, of all people, to have.

“Maybe I want to check in on my best friend.” Groaning footfalls as Demetri starts to slowly cross Hawk’s room. “I see you avoiding me at school. And you didn’t even bother to show when your little friends crashed Sam’s party. Perhaps I want to see how you are, hmmmm?”

And try as he might, Hawk can’t pick up the usual sarcastic edge to Demetri’s tone. He frowns at his far wall, confused.

There’s something odd in Demetri’s voice, and Hawk can’t for the life of him pick up what it is.

He still refuses to look at his oldest friend. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of undivided attention.

Demetri is a pest, and should be treated as such.

“We’re not best friends,” Hawk says tightly, landing another punch on his bag. “Whatever we were? It’s done. Has been for a long time. Why can’t you get that?”

He finally graces Demetri with a look. He’s expecting the usual sullen look—scrunched brow, open mouth, widened eyes. Like he’s eternally surprised Hawk doesn’t need him anymore.

A look where maybe, if he prods it farther, Demetri will storm off. Or run off crying. Be out of Hawk’s sight.

Be somewhere where Hawk doesn’t have to think about that night at Golf N Stuff. Or how it felt to watch Demetri writhe on the floor. Or the streams of vomit that ripped from Hawk’s stomach as soon as he got home.

Or what he did to himself in the wee hours of the morning, when no one—not his mother, not Cobra Kai, not Sensei Kreese—was around to see.

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

Not a contemptuous sneer, or a pained grimace. A full-on grin, splitting his cheeks and stretching much wider than the situation calls for.

Hawk inhales sharply.

Demetri shakes his head, laughing. “It’s almost endearing, you know. What a tryhard you are.”

He squares his jaw, refusing to budge as Demetri advances on him. “I thought I made it pretty clear what I think about you. You want another reminder?”

Hawk balls his fists, trying not to think about how hard the words are to force out. How hard he’s working to keep the iron shell he’s built around himself intact.

A strange smell hovers around Demetri. Acrid and metallic, like he’s spent too much time mucking around inside one of those computers he’s so besotted with.

“How revoltingly naïve.” Green eyes burn into him like acid, the glint behind them unlike anything he’s ever seen. “You thought you’d break my arm once and be done with me?

Hawk finds himself backing away.

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Hawk.”

Something in the way Demetri spits his new name finally gives him clarity.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he spits. “Why did you come here?”

“I came here because you were right. About everything.”

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

For several seconds, all he can do is stare. Demetri smirks, apparently reveling in getting a leg up.

Hawk is so confused that he can’t even find it in himself to be angry. A strangled “what?” is all that comes out, pulling a snigger from his adversary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Becoming the scariest fighter in the Valley. Making everyone quiver at the sight of you. Doing whatever you like because people aren’t brave enough to tell you no. Becoming your badass karate teacher’s little golden child. Getting rid of your weaknesses. Getting rid of me. But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

But Hawk is, nonetheless, finding his confusion turning to intrigue.

The mopey kicked puppy routine had gotten unbearably tedious. At least Demetri finally has the decency to give Hawk some variety.

“Oh, yeah?” He curls his lip. “What’s that?”

Demetri casually leans on Hawk’s dresser, like this is nothing more than a Friday night video game session.

“You think I avoid fights because I’m scared. But that’s not true anymore.” And there’s that grin again—that wide, unnerving grin that looks like it was pasted on from another human being’s face. The sort of manic look that would never in a thousand years belong on Demetri Alexopoulos.

“I avoid fights because I know who’s worth fighting. And who’s worth hurting.”

Well, that’s new.

Hawk narrows his eyes, trying to piece together if this is all some kind of trick.

“See, Eli, you were right that the world isn’t kind to people who get too soft.” Demetri starts sauntering over again, and that odd, metallic smell strengthens. “Or losers. Or weaklings. Or people who admit defeat. Give in too easily. Run off cowering and scared. So I’m shaking all that off. Next time I fight, I won’t lose.”

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

“So that’s what you want?” he hisses. “A rematch? Like you’d stand a chance.”

“So touchy. Do you only think of people in terms of whether you can beat them in a fight now? Boooooring.”

Demetri clicks his tongue disapprovingly. It’s a mocking gesture he’s been doing since they were little, but now something about it feels chilling.

Hawk’s back bumps his bedroom wall. Demetri’s closing in on him.

Fucking hell—he’s getting fed up with this cat-and-mouse. Why is he even entertaining this stupid nerd again?

It’s not like he gives a shit about him anymore. Then he wouldn’t snap his arm in half.

“Fuck off, Demetri!” he roars. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say! Get the hell out of my house, or I swear to god I’ll break your arm again.”

He fills the words with fire and force and poison, hoping something will hurt Demetri enough to make him go.

He can’t cave again. Not after he’s worked this hard to oust Demetri and everything he represents from his life.

Not after he’s severed Demetri’s bone with his own hands and smiled with his friends about it.

That should’ve been the last straw. That should’ve been what sent Demetri running for good, abandoning everything they’d once had to save himself.

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

Demetri takes another step into his space, curling his lip. “You’re full of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Eli returns his stare, baring his teeth. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

“I begged you to stop.” Demetri’s hands slide onto the wall on either side of him, trapping him. “And you thought about it. You didn’t break my arm until all your psychotic teammates goaded you on. If you really hated me?” His voice drops to a breathy whisper. “You wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

“Poor little Eli. You’ve always sucked at arguing when you get backed into a corner.”

“I still broke it,” Hawk growls. “You know I can do it. Easily. So how are you stupid enough that you’re still fucking with me? You some kind of masochist?”

“You still care about me, Eli.” They’re inches apart now, Demetri leering over Hawk. “You never got over me not wanting to join your little club of sociopaths. Whenever there’s a rumble, you can’t stay away from me. And you want to know what I think?”

“Shut up.”

Demetri’s voice is husky in Hawk’s ear. “You wouldn’t hurt me when there’s no one to show off to.”

Hawk’s done with this.

He lunges, shoving Demetri’s chest and flying at him with an outstretched fist. He waits for that gratifying moment of shock—the familiar shift in Demetri’s features as he realizes yet again Hawk has no intention of going easy on him.

Demetri doesn’t even blink as he moves out of the way.

Hawk course-corrects, swiveling and diving for Demetri again. He throws the fastest punch he can manage straight at Demetri’s jaw.

Why the hell won’t he give up?

Demetri’s fantastic at giving up. He always has been. He gave up on standing up to bullies and he gave up on Cobra Kai and he gave up on Sensei Kreese.

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

Demetri doesn’t dodge this time. He only swerves, allowing the fist to graze his chin.

He lets out a hiss of pain—angry, but not surprised.

Without warning, Demetri’s hands shoot up. Hawk freezes as long fingers snake across the skin of his arm.

The next second he’s screaming, Demetri’s hands twisting until his skin burns. The other boy’s grip tightens, thrusting him toward the floor.

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

And frustratingly, he can do them fast. Hawk barely manages to use his other arm to shove Demetri off, stumbling back.

Even one moment of disorientation is too long. Demetri charges again, teeth bared like a wild animal.

One arm slams him against his bedroom wall while the other digs into his chest, squeezing the air out of him. And Hawk hates to admit it, but Demetri’s training-broadened shoulders have a terrifying amount of power behind them.

Nothing he can’t handle. Hawk’s taken on bigger opponents before.

He squirms in Demetri’s grip, his own arms loosening enough for his hands to make a grab for the taller boy’s throat. Then Demetri’s pinning hand is gone, slipping in and out of his jacket in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

Something cold and sharp presses Hawk’s throat. His hands drop, tensing against the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Eli.” Demetri tilts his head, pouting mockingly. “But you make it so damn hard to talk to you. Can’t do a thing without you coming at me like some kind of rabid coyote.”

“So you pull a…are you fucking insane?”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Red Hulk Rage Issues.” The pout morphs into a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not above playing dirty, using that sad little Eli voice of yours to get out of trouble. Figured it was time I caught up.”

Hawk feels something sticky dripping down his neck. His breath hitches in his throat.

He aims a hit at Demetri’s stomach. The taller boy bends with it, and the blade presses harder.

“Oh, come now.” Demetri tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t make me slit your throat.”

Hawk hardens his expression, channeling everything in him into hiding the shock.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in a great place to test that.”

And he’s right. Hawk hates it, but he’s right.

This isn’t the Demetri he knows better than the back of his hand. The Demetri he knows so uncomfortably well that he convinced himself over and over and over that it meant he was sick of the fucking geek.

This isn’t grounded, rational, sensible Demetri. Something’s snipped his threads, made him start fraying at the edges.

He’s unraveling, floating in an ether where the pragmatic and the path of least resistance that he made his life philosophy are losing their appeal. He’s…

Well, it seems he’s done some script-flipping of his own. Decided—perhaps on a whim—to overhaul everything Hawk knew and replace it with something cold and alien and completely fucking unpredictable.

Was this how Demetri felt, that day Hawk showed up at school with spiked hair and a conniving sneer? Is this some kind of payback?

He doesn’t care if this new boy with a knife to his throat killed and gutted the friend he grew up with. It doesn’t matter anymore. That relationship only ever got in the way, anyhow.

He truly could not care less. Honest.

The only emotion he feels is annoyance that this new opponent will be harder to match, with erratic moves and a quickly-thinning conscience.

This Demetri isn’t pulling any punches. One stupid or sloppy move, and Hawk will be on the floor gurgling his life out.

He’s never taken Demetri for someone impulsive, but perhaps he just had a talent for controlling his most brutal and primal urges—for his own safety, if nothing else. Perhaps he’s lost this ability.

Hawk wonders what it says about him that he isn’t bothered by this at all. If anything, he finds the whole concept exhilarating.

Fighting Demetri had gotten so boring. Now, at last, they’re on equal footing.

Regardless, there could be a trace of the Old Demetri yet. He might be able to use that.

“Put the fucking knife away or I’ll call the cops,” Hawk snarls. “Think you’ll get into Stanford with a police report on your permanent record? Or whatever fucking nerd school you’re trying to—”

“With what phone?” Demetri interrupts. “The one you left on the coffee table downstairs so it won’t distract you from wailing on your stupid bag?”

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

“Mommy’s not coming for you, Eli.” Demetri’s smirk widens. “Mommy’s getting drunk with all her friends to forget her unfulfilled suburban picket fence life with her nasty, violent delinquent of a son. And Mommy’s going to crash at Michelle Galinski’s house, just like she has every Friday night for the past 10 years. And oh dear…Daddy’s out of town on his top-of-the-month business trip? Looks like no one’s coming to save you.”

Fuck that. He can save himself.

Hawk makes a grab for Demetri’s wrist, other hand clawing at the arm compressing his chest. Demetri seamlessly lifts the elbow of his knife-holding arm and jabs the bony appendage into Hawk’s skin.

The knife blade doesn’t even falter, pressing more firmly into Hawk’s neck. A sting, and he feels something warm trickle toward his chest.

The scent from earlier intensifies, and Hawk realizes abruptly that it must have been blood.

“Mmmm-mmmm.” Demetri purses his lips and shakes his head, like he’s scolding a disobedient child. “It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you don’t act up. I really don’t want to cut your throat, but I will.”

As Demetri sneers down at him, Hawk realizes too late that he couldn’t cover his alarm.

“What? Don’t think I’d actually hurt you?”

The taller boy fiddles with the knife, sending little pricks of pain rippling through Hawk’s neck.

“I guess you know how it feels now,” he purrs.

Hawk spits in Demetri’s face, sudden fury overtaking him.

This pathetic nerd’s not going to make him feel bad now. Not after everything he’s done to crush the part of himself that possibly could feel bad.

“Fuck you.”

And slowly, never once breaking his gaze, Demetri licks Hawk’s saliva off his chin. The dim hallway light just catches the moisture on his face.

“Keep it in your pants, Moskowitz. We’re not there yet.”

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

It’s growing tiresome. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want that cut in his neck getting any wider.

There’s something distinctly unnerving about the way Demetri’s eyes are boring into him, sizing him up with a kind of cold contempt. Looking at him like he’s nothing more than some ugly insect to crush under his shoe.

It’s the sort of callousness that Hawk has never once—not in the entire time he’s known Demetri—been the target of.

And maybe he’ll admit it. He dislikes it for more than just the fact it throws him off.

Demetri is spiraling into someone unrecognizable, and the sheer foreignness of the whole process makes Hawk shudder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hawk’s voice is small and weak. Like Eli’s.

He doesn’t care.

His entire sense of reality—every absolute, irrefutable truth he’s ever attached to himself and his life and his oldest friend—is uprooting and spinning out of control, and it’s not like anything fucking matters anymore.

Demetri laughs—a sharp, hollow sound devoid of any real humor.

“Like you’re one to talk. I know what you did to Brucks.”

Hawk’s blood freezes.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Demetri’s knife slides from the cut on Hawk’s neck, beginning to tease the underside of his chin. “Mitch told us what happened. And I damn well noticed when Brucks stopped showing up to school. Nice of your war criminal sensei to help you cover that up.”

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

Of course Demetri put two and two together. Of course he’d gone snooping so he could find something else to hang over Hawk’s head.

And the fall of that knife might be worse than the one currently tickling his jaw.

Part of him hates it. Hates being reminded of that day and hates being reminded what he’s capable of. Hates remembering the sight of a living, breathing person crumpling to the floor, and realizing they would never get up again.

But Hawk isn’t stupid. If anyone can play Demetri’s games, it’s the person who knows him better than anyone in the world.

“Demetri.” He keeps his tone as calm and non-abrasive as he can. “Who else’s blood is on your knife?”

Because it was still wet when Demetri shoved it up against him. And Demetri’s a moron if he thinks Hawk missed that.

“Ah. And we finally get to that.” Demetri chuckles, gently tracing Hawk’s jawline with the honed edge. “You see…the difference between you and me, Eli, is that I don’t need anyone’s help to hide my bodies.”

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“Not any worse than you.” Demetri cocks his head. “I hurt someone who deserved it.”

“Demetri.” Hawk steels his voice. “What did you do?”

Because whatever it was, Hawk sure as hell needs to take the proper precautions to make certain he isn’t next.

“Stopped at the convenience store on the way over here.” Demetri follows the knife with his eyes as he talks, expression almost affectionate. “Ran into one of Kyler’s old buddies from the wrestling team. One of the kids who used to call us fags, remember? He thought it would be fun to shove me around. So I pretended I was running my ass away, and got him to chase me somewhere a little more…private.”

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

“Shanked the asshole like a pig. He was so surprised he didn’t even fight back. And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And there’s that laugh again—the broken, disjointed chortles that feel so jarringly out-of-place. Green eyes shining with a frenetic light that makes Hawk’s hands grow slick with sweat.

Demetri leans in again, knife held steady as his lips brush Hawk’s ear.

“I know how it feels, you know. I know what it is to get so angry that you don’t even know what your body’s doing until it’s too late. Watch the life fade out of another human being’s eyes. Realize you like it. Sit there panicking about being some kind of inhuman monster and then suddenly realizing you don’t fucking care. And I suppose…I suppose that’s another reason you were right. There is a certain freedom in embracing that the world is cruel and cutthroat and unforgiving. In finally unmuzzling the wild animal thrashing around inside you and letting it hunt the way it was always meant to.”

Hawk shudders.

Sensei Kreese promised no one would ever find out about Brucks. Staged some kind of car accident or binge-drinking tragedy or drug OD or some other way stupid teenagers die all the time. Kyler was barred from the funeral, with Kreese worried (probably reasonably) that the dumbass would let something slip.

Kreese told the class that if anyone snitched, he’d be more than willing to look the other way as they met the same fate as Brucks.

Hawk hated how much he enjoyed it. He hated how after the deed was done, he couldn’t find a scrap of guilt in his psyche. It made him feel detached from himself—the abstract idea that doing that to another person was bad, but the complete lack of any emotions to back it up.

But that’s who he is now. No going back, he supposes.

Perhaps, on some level, he figured Demetri would pick up on this and leave him alone. Decide that Hawk’s path was too dark and too dangerous for his pasty basement nerd tastes, and stay huddled away with the Miyagi Dos singing kumbaya.

That would probably be best for him, anyways. Hawk still doesn’t know what other horrific shit he has it in him to do, especially when his victim pleaded so hard for mercy that would never come. When Brucks’ fruitless begging gave him an unmistakable rush.

And yet here Demetri is, claiming he was in a similar position. Claiming he lost control.

It isn’t that Demetri can’t put on an act if he needs to. But on some level, Hawk’s always been able to tell when his best friend is exaggerating or embellishing to make a story more interesting. There’s a kind of snarky undertone he uses, always giving that he isn’t completely serious. Subtle, but easy to pick up if you’re familiar with it.

There’s none of that here. If anything, this is the kind of emotional vulnerability Demetri never displays intentionally.

Until now, apparently.

Hawk bites his lip. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“You’re so cute.” The tip of the knife jabs into the underside of Hawk’s chin. “You thought I was some…what? Some sissy little do-gooder? The pinnacle of morality and mercy and all great virtues? No, no.” He giggles. “I’ve always been as fucked up as you. I only managed to keep it buried longer.”

Hawk scowls, suddenly remembering exactly who he’s talking to.

“Give me a fucking break. You joined the pussy-ass ‘defense only’ karate dojo. Your entire philosophy is about being sissy little do-gooders. Like you’d have the balls to pull even half the shit Cobra Kai—”

The knife flies back to the wound in his throat, Demetri using his arm to ram Hawk harder into the wall.

“You think I ever gave a flying fuck about Miyagi-Do?” he spits. “You think I’m some slavering pet like you, tripping over my little lapdog paws to appease my sensei’s every command? You think these asinine karate wars ever mattered to me? No.” He shoves his face into Hawk’s, blood on his breath. “You’re the one so obsessed with following orders that you can’t even remember who you were before you became some demented old man’s attack dog. You’re the one so drunk on loyalty to a fucking karate dojo that you can’t see none of this shit matters.”

Hawk bares his teeth, hoping with everything he has that Demetri won’t notice him shaking.

“Easy for you to say, when you pussied out after one punch in the face,” he sneered. “Of course you want to believe all of this is pointless when you’re on the losing team. But I’m not like you, Demetri. I’m no quitter.”

“Oh, how admirable.” The knife presses a little harder. “Tell me then, Hawk. How’s being on the same team as Kyler? As fucking Robby Keene? You excited for the chance to help them hurt Miguel again?”

Red-hot rage rips through Hawk. He lifts a leg and knees Demetri’s shin as hard as he can.

Demetri barely even winces. His other foot kicks up, ramming the side of Hawk’s knee. Hawk scrambles for balance, heart pounding as he just avoids falling into the knifepoint.

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

“Fuck you!” Hawk spits. “Keene was from your fucking dojo! You fought with him, too!”

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

Demetri’s voice is frigid, rivaling the most biting winter rains. Every inch of him drips with a venomous hatred that Hawk has never seen before.

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

“And now he’s in your dojo. Funny how that works.” Demetri clicks his tongue. “Guess your roaring rampage of revenge was all for naught.”

“It wasn’t.” Hawk curls his lip. “You were all responsible, and we got our paypack. It’s not our fault Miguel wasn’t grateful.”

“Ooooh, gotta love the Hawk’s impeccable logic! ‘Ah, yes, I think I will terrorize everyone in this dojo except for the person who actually almost killed my friend, who I will agree to team up with for some reason!’” Demetri returns his sneer. “Are you really such an obedient little bitch that you do whatever your precious sensei tells you? Even when you damn well know it makes no sense? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

“Park and Keene know their place,” Hawk hisses. “They know I’m the alpha. They answer to me.”

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

“Even if I were to believe that. Do you like sharing a class with those assholes? Do you like knowing that if one of them were to get their ass handed to them by a Miyagi-Do or an Eagle Fang—by Miguel—that you’d be expected to rescue them?”

“I’d do it.” Hawk grits his teeth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d fucking do it. Sensei Kreese gave Sensei Lawrence and the others a chance to join back up with Cobra Kai, and they said no. Miguel chose his side.”

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

“I guess ‘Cobra Kai for life’ trumps a Cobra’s desire to beat another Cobra into the damn ground. Kind of a shame. I think you’d enjoy hurting them.”

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

I avoid fights because I know who’s worth hurting.

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

“Sensei says we need all the allies we can get,” he says. “Even if we don’t like them. I’m putting up with Kyler and Robby long enough to win the tournament, and that’s it. Then I’ll find some way to weed them out.”

“I doubt it.” Demetri smiles down at him. If it weren’t for the knife, Hawk would punch his teeth in. “Contrary to how you act, I know you’re a smart guy. If you knew how to get rid of them, you would have already. No, Eli…” His voice drops to a purr. “You’re stuck with them, aren’t you?”

Hawk feels sick.

Leave it to Demetri to pinpoint his deepest fears—a karate clan filled with the worst people Hawk knew. Not a single friend to speak of, and a sensei with constantly divided attention.

Even Tory was turning out to be a fucking snake in the grass. She certainly took to the boy who nearly killed her ex with not an ounce of guilt.

And yet she believed with all of her being that Demetri deserved a broken arm for what Robby Keene did. That he was a pussy for crying out in pain. Actions didn’t matter to her—only the name branded across the merchandise you wore and the color of your gi at tournaments.

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

All this time she’d seemed nothing but tough and fearless, but all she was was a shallow bitch who cared more about rank and status than a damn thing you actually did.

She was always going to hate Sam LaRusso for being rich and popular. She was always going to hate Miyagi Do for its association with LaRusso. But the second Keene bailed? Put on a belt with a cobra on it and showed off his snake-snatching skills?

She couldn’t wait to get on his dick. The filthy slut.

And suddenly Hawk realizes that he hates her, too. He hates so many of the people who are supposed to be his allies. But he can’t afford to think like that. And most of all, he can’t afford to let Demetri see it.

He glowers up at his ex-best-friend, keeping his gaze stony. “And why do you care? You have your posse of Miyagi losers to pal around with. Why do you give a shit what I do? Just go home to your little—”

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

The words come out in a forceful scream that practically knocks Hawk even further into the wall.

The sheer disdain in Demetri’s eyes for the group he had so cozily assimilated into sends Hawk reeling. He’d never—not in this lifetime or the next—expect Demetri to toss the whole lot of them out like garbage.

Demetri breaks into another grin, reveling in Hawk’s stunned silence.

“See, that’s another difference between you and I, Eli. I don’t need some washed-out old man telling me what to believe and how to fight. I can think for myself. And frankly, I got sick of the ‘safety in numbers’ business when it seemed ‘the numbers’ were always the ones who got to pick my enemies for me. And no one—” His eyes burn into Hawk. “No one decides that but me. I hurt who I like when I like, and I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets in my way.”

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

“So…what?” Hawk sneers. “You’re going to fight Cobra Kai by yourself now? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Not all of them. Some of your class are just brainwashed idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And you, Eli…well, I think you’ve lost sight of who your true enemy is. I was hoping I could help.”

“You really bounced?” Hawk narrows his eyes, still trying to make sense of everything. “After everything, you…just up and left?”

It can’t be that easy. He knows it wouldn’t be in Cobra Kai.

“Yeah.” Demetri shrugs. “And now I have way more time for important things.”

“I don’t get it.” Hawk’s frown deepens. “Why would you strike off on your own? Did something happen?”

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

Maybe it’s Hawk’s imagination, but the knife loosens a little.

“Don’t you get it?” For the first time all night, something like genuine anguish prods through Demetri’s voice. “I meant what I said. I never gave a rat’s ass about the karate wars, or the stupid dojo feuds. All I ever wanted was to be worth your fucking time again.”

All Hawk can do is stare.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“And sure,” Demetri concedes after a moment. “At first, I wanted to do right by Mr. LaRusso. By Sam. They were the ones who taught me. Toughened me up into something worthwhile. Worked with all the shit you thought was a lost cause. But it was always a means to an end to stay relevant to you. Then after what happened with Moon, I genuinely thought the Miyagi-Do philosophy would help you. But I learned soon enough that you were in too deep for appealing to the Old Eli to work. No, I had to speak to you in your own language.”

He licks his lips as the knife starts to slide up Hawk’s neck again, dancing over the bottom of his chin and onto the plump skin of his lips.

“Aggression. Violence. Dominance.” He chuckles. “Wasn’t my go-to, but if it got your attention, I could make it work. And I guess I did, huh? I riled you up enough that you couldn’t leave me alone.”

“You wanted to piss me off?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you coming back for more.” And there it is again—that wide, sadistic grin that feels so brutally wrong. “You can leave me, Eli. You can disown me. You can shit on everything we had and make my life a living hell. But you can’t bring yourself to just ignore me. Because you’re so weak that you can’t bear to refuse the bait when I press your buttons. Because as much as you claim to hate me, you can’t move on from me.”

“And now you ditch your team to…what? Fight me on your own?” Hawk matches Demetri’s grin with one of his own. “I’d wreck you. And deep down, you know it.”

“So presumptuous.” Demetri shakes his head, tutting. “Frankly, I came here tonight because I’m sick of fighting you.”

“Says the one with a knife to my throat.”

“That’s because you don’t fucking listen without me having to resort to extreme measures,” Demetri hisses. “I think we’re a lot closer to being on the same page than you think. And maybe if you dropped this whole tribalism bullshit, you’d see that.”

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

He’s not surprised. But the way they arrived here?

Now that’s a twist.

It’s still an insane concept. Like he’s supposed to let his greatest enemy off the hook. Let Demetri get away with all the ways he’s undermined him and humiliated him and put the Old Eli—the weak, pathetic nerd Eli—on blast for all the world to see.

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

Hawk finds himself wondering how much of his rage against the Miyagi Dos is his own, and how much is Sensei Kreese’s. And if Demetri’s truly deserted “the enemy,” does Hawk still have to hate him?

Does he even want to?

Demetri isn’t that pathetic, sniveling dweeb anymore. He’s crushed his old self as brutally as Hawk has.

Because the Demetri Hawk has known all his life could scarcely bring himself to cook with sharp knives, let alone use one to threaten another human being’s life.

Or take one.

But despite everything, something still doesn’t add up.

“I heard about your little rousing speech,” Hawk says. “About how important it was for Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang to unite against the ‘biggest assholes in the Valley.’ And now you’ve abandoned both of them. Was that all just a load of crap, then?”

Demetri is unfazed.

“Call me naïve, but I thought if Miguel and I were on the same team, you’d finally see some damn sense. You’d hurt me, sure. I’ve known that for a while. But I never thought you’d touch the kid you went on a vengeance quest for.” He shrugs. “Color me surprised when you wrote him off as just another enemy.”

“I told you.” Hawk works his fingers against the wall again, uneasiness trickling over his skin. “Miguel chose his side.”

“Be that as it may. I figured if you were so far gone that you were ready to wail on literally every person you used to be friends with, I needed to adjust my strategy.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to you. For getting you to tell the truth.”

And Hawk doesn’t want to think for too long about what truth Demetri has in mind.

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

“Mhm.” Demetri snickers. “That’s how you communicate, yeah? Threats and intimidation?”

Hawk clenches his jaw. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Is that so.” The arm suddenly lifts from squeezing Hawk’s chest, long fingers seizing his wrist. He’s too surprised to pry them away.

He really should be expecting this kind of insane bullshit by now.

“Your pulse is going haywire, Eli,” Demetri murmurs. “Either you’re a liar, or something else has you energized. I wonder what that could be?”

It’s then Hawk’s mind fully catches up to its surroundings.

He rips his wrist away, pivoting away from the knife and sending a knee into Demetri’s ribs. The knife tip slices his cheek, but so be it. He’s endured worse.

Demetri gasps, stumbling back. Hawk makes a grab for the knife.

The taller boy is still too quick. He holds the weapon out of reach, using his other arm to thrust Hawk’s body back.

Before Demetri can do anything else, Hawk squats down and sweeps his leg. With a grunt, his opponent stumbles to the floor.

Something seizes Hawk’s ankles as he stands. He cries out as he’s yanked backward with surprising force, landing on the floor next to Demetri.

Hawk scrambles for the bed, trying to writhe out of Demetri’s grip and hoist himself up by the covers.

It’ll be over when I have the high ground.

What a stupid reference to think about.

It reminds him of the kind of game he and Demetri might have once played. Whoever made it onto the bed would get to be Obi-Wan, and whoever stayed on the floor would have to be Anakin, drowning in lava.

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

Demetri doesn’t let go, snarling like a hyena as he tries to tug Hawk back. The knife teases his skin, an imminent threat if he makes any moves too sudden.

He’d kick the annoying asshole away from him, but he doesn’t want the sole of his foot sliced open. If he can’t walk, he can’t fight.

Suddenly, Demetri cries out, grip loosening. In Hawk’s struggles, he must’ve rammed into a sensitive spot. He yanks himself free, scrambling onto the bed and frantically trying to plan his next move.

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

Demetri, gleefully bluffing, rises to his full height. Smirking, he pounces like a jaguar.

He lands heavily on Hawk’s stomach, slamming him against the bed. The back of his head smacks against the headboard, filling his vision with stars.

He barely has time to let out a pained gasp before Demetri’s knees are digging into his quadriceps, pinning him again. Growling, he aims a punch at Demetri’s throat.

His fist meets its target, pulling a strangled gasp. Hawk clasps his arms around Demetri’s torso, trying to thrust him off the bed.

For a moment they struggle, yanking and shoving wildly in an attempt to gain an advantage. Then Hawk feels long arms wrap around his back, bony fingers clutching at his throat.

The tingling pain of blade against skin, and Hawk realizes Demetri kept hold of his knife.

Whenever I think he’s finally going to drop that damned thing…

The knife jabs into him, strengthening its grip until he’s pressed flat on his back. At last Demetri loosens his grip, sizing up his victim with a satisfied beam.

Hawk squirms, bed creaking as he does his best to jostle Demetri off. The other boy holds fast, gazing down at him with a pitying look.

The blade digs in again, and Hawk’s struggles weaken.

“Come now. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

Demetri tilts his head to the side, breaking into another crazed grin that sends dread trickling straight down to Hawk’s bones.

“Shut up Demetri.”

“I see you staring at me. All this time, and all these girls you tried so hard to fuck, and everything always comes back to your stupid middle school infatuation.”

“SHUT UP!”

Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, trying to bleach Demetri’s cold, smug expression from his mind.

“Right after you had your Bar Mitzvah, you asked me to kiss you. You figured since I already had mine, we were both adults now. And adults do grown-up things like kissing.”

“STOP IT!”

And suddenly Hawk is screaming at the top of his lungs because he knows where this is going. Because they were just stupid kids, and that can’t mean anything.

“I said of course I would, because I’d always liked you, Eli.” Demetri’s voice only grows louder—more insistent. “And I go in to give you a peck, and you grab my arms and stick your entire tongue in my mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

He feels something wet dribbling down his face, and wonders if the cut on his cheek got stretched wider in his and Demetri’s scuffle. It’s certainly stinging enough for it.

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

“I told you I’d kiss you a thousand more times if you wanted.” Demetri’s voice has grown sharper than his blade. “And I would have. And for a long while, I thought there might be the most infinitesimal possibility that you felt something, too. Now I know I was right.”

He laughs, the sound acrid and bitter and full of flint.

“Because even after everything, you’re still obsessed with me. You watch me across the lunchroom and pretend you’re ‘monitoring the enemy,’ but I know you miss me. You miss when I made you laugh, and you miss when I talked to people so you didn’t have to. You chase me around in every battle, but when it comes right down to it, you can’t hurt me in any significant way until you’re bullied into it. You pick fights with me so you can put your hands all over my body and not have anyone look at you askance for it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Maybe if he screams loud enough, Demetri won’t pay too much attention to the wet trails smearing the blood from his cuts.

Caustic breath is hovering inches above Hawk, misting onto his lips. Still, he refuses to open his eyes.

“It must be exhausting, you know,” Demetri whispers. “Living your life in denial like that. Wearing your entire personality like some cheap Halloween costume and convincing yourself that’s a fulfilling existence. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Hawk growls. “I do whatever I like. It’s not my fault you don’t like who I really am.”

“Who you really are, hmmm?” Demetri’s lips brush his earlobe, voice a barely-audible murmur. “So tell me the truth then, Eli. Do you still want me?”

The bluntness of the question almost blows a hole in his composure.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

All at once, Demetri’s voice is a deafening, furious scream again. The knife slices Hawk’s jaw.

Not enough to do any real harm, but enough to really hurt. Hawk freezes, held prisoner by the burst of sharp, sudden pain.

“It’s always lies, lies, lies with you,” Demetri snarls. “Fake name. Fake hair color. Fake personality. Fake interests. Fake friends who only kiss the ground you walk on because they’ve never seen you at your weakest. Fake relationships with girls you barely let know you—to the point you think they’d leave you for liking to code. And the absolute drivel you feed yourself that this goddamn farce is what you want to live in forever. You think you’re starring in some martial arts epic, and you’re so wrapped up in your stupid method acting that you never want to step offscreen. Like everyone’s on the edge of their seat about your pitiful life like it’s the fucking Truman Show. And at the end of the day? You’re still too much of a pussy to tell me the truth.”

Hawk’s skin tingles, shivers rippling through him. If his heart was pounding before, it’s thundering now.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like fear. He’s used to this new version of Demetri enough not to cower from him.

No, it’s something far worse. And Demetri knows it.

“You can’t hide from me.” The other boy’s tone drips with haughtiness, savoring the ability to confirm Hawk’s worst fears. “I see right through your bullshit. I always have. So I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want me?”

The knife slides down to Hawk’s throat again, pressing firmly.

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore. Sprawled out on his childhood bed, underneath the only other person he frequently shared it with.

The person he used to watch sleep, wondering wistfully if the freak with the lip scar ever made it into his best friend’s dreams.

He opens his eyes and finally meets Demetri’s gaze, in all of its searing, insurmountable beauty.

“Yeah.”

He breathes it out quiet and fragile—a soft promise. A rare moment of openness that he lets free of his unbreakable shell.

Demetri drops the knife. It falls behind the bed, thumping onto the carpet below.

He swoops down, seizing Hawk’s neck and yanking him up. When their mouths meet, Hawk is nearly thrown back with the force of it.

Demetri kisses like a starved animal, lapping and nipping in a crazed frenzy. The weight of his muscle-toned body is crushing, locking Hawk firmly against the mattress.

He tastes like blood and cold steel and cruelty. Hawk shudders.

This time, he’s certain it isn’t fear. It’s a rush he only thought he could get from smashing his fists against plastic or skin, or feeling another person’s body go limp and lifeless underneath his.

And it’s ironic. The more Demetri tries to devour Hawk, the more Hawk wants to let it happen.

There’s an odd satisfaction to it, he thinks. Being completely at someone else’s mercy.

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

OKAY, time for some #authorrants because I feel like some of the choices I made in this fic are. Controversial, to say the least. Lmao.

So something that has bugged the crap out of me for a while now is people in this fandom acting like there is any world where Demetri would choose Robby over Miguel. I remember after S3 dropped, there was a lot of "dId tHeY fOrGeT tHe dEmEtRi-rObBy FrIeNdShIp" type sentiment floating around irt why Demetri didn't stay in contact with Robby the way Sam and the LaRussos did. Maybe it's because, I don't know, Robby threw the guy Demetri never actually stopped being close friends with over a balcony and almost killed him???

Like. Not that these showrunners don't ever forget things, but this absolutely is not one of them. Robby paralyzing Miguel is a BEYOND valid reason to sever ties with him, especially when you were just casual dojo bros for a couple months tops. When push came to shove, Demetri pretty unequivocally CHOSE MIGUEL. He brought him a comic book in the hospital! He was thrilled to see him back at school and picked up their friendship right where it left off! He DOES NOT VISIBLY FORGIVE ROBBY UNTIL MIGUEL DOES! Idk idk it just really riles me when people do not take Demetri and Miguel's friendship into account when discussing the Demetri-Robby relationship and why they stopped being friends when they did. Tbh I don't think it's that hot of a take to assume Demetri would have more loyalty to the guy who befriended him when he was a nobody and proceeded to be one of his closest ride-or-die friends for a whole-ass year over the guy he was casual buds with because they happened to share a karate instructor -_____- I could go on about this for several more paragraphs, but that's a rant for another day.

(As far as the LaRussos go, they were all closer to Robby and were basically his adoptive family, which is why they--particularly Sam--were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the Miguel thing was an accident. Demetri didn't know Robby well enough to make that call, and had no actual proof it WAS an accident except for maybe Sam's word.)

Some other things to ramble about:

I remember in some interview a while back (I think with Martin Kove?) someone asked about Hawk and Marty or whoever was being interviewed said he was "on his way to being a serial killer" or smth. And Jacob's talked a little bit about the kind of escalating delinquent shit Hawk would get up to if he was never redeemed, etc. So going with that: Bold of y'all to assume the kid simping for Hawk since episode 1 wouldn't renounce his morals and join him on the path to villainy. Sorry but I truly believe Demetri's horniness for Hawk can and would win out over any ethical qualms in the end. Also Demetri is horny for violence and evil this is canon otherwise he would in fact not have simped for S3 Hawk so PAINFULLY BADLY god bless

Also this was partly inspired by those post-S3 jokes that were like "lol what happened to Brucks??? Did Hawk kill him???"...well, what if he did, tho? O_____O

Disclaimer that I promise I do not endorse the Tory slut-shaming!!! Tbh I didn't really wanna write it, but...I think given the circumstances, Hawk WOULD be pretty furious at her for getting chummy with Robby and "betraying" Miguel. And unfortunately, since he's a teenage boy with (canonical!) misogynistic tendencies...I do think that would most likely come across as slut-shaming D: But y'all have brains y'all know I don't condone everything I write about aknhdksuyhf (Murder is probably not something you should try at home either btw)

Hopefully I didn't make Hawk too weaksauce in this ^^; My excuses are a) I suck at writing fight scenes and tend to just want to get to the psychosexual dialogue and knife-teasing, so. If I rushed anything to get there I apologize. b) Going by the school fight, Hawk is indeed thrown off when Demetri takes the offensive (especially in a super dramatic kind of way) and his confused pause is in fact enough time for Demetri to get an advantage and c) The man is thrown off his game!!! Thrown off his groove, even!!! His sissy pussy nerd ex-friend shows up acting like a disturbed maniac and he is so O_____o about it that his moves are off!!! He's sucking a little but it's not his fault 💔It's Demetri's for subverting expectations 💔

I also feel like if Demetri started McFucking Losing It and was generally less grounded in the physical and rational world, physical pain wouldn't register quite as much. Like he's in his head enough now that he's kinda lost his grip on reality and things happening in the physical world don't seem as relevant or immediate, if that makes any sense? Also idk. Maybe after the arm break his pain tolerance just went up :O Anyways that's why he recovers pretty fast when Hawk DOES land a hit. Demetri is nuts now 💙

I will die on my hill that Demetri like. Really REALLY isn't as morally upstanding as people like to think XD Like I say this with love but from the top he's been a self-interested little shit who just happens to be extremely loyal to the very small handful of people he actually likes. My dudes, he didn't join Miyagi Do because he liked their philosophy better--he joined because they were less on board with punching him in particular in the face XD This dude saw Cobra Kai being fucks and playing dirty at the AVT and he STILL up and says "I wanna come back because I like the 'safety in numbers' aspect of joining a gang" XD I always got the vibe the "well at least I'm not an asshole LIKE YOU" he throws at Eli later is more because he likes to feel self-righteous. I say all of this as his biggest fan btw. I think more people should embrace the self-interested king he is and write about him and Eli being absolute dicks together instead of to each other 💖

I guess that's what I'm here for!!!

Anyways I think Demetri and Eli have the same potential to be absolutely horrific people, and I think we're all very lucky that Demetri was too lazy to challenge his comfort zone and stick with Cobra Kai XD We're very fortunate he happened to end up using his speed and his brains to help his friends who happened to be on the Good Guy Side rather than his friends who happened to be on the Bad Guy Side.

I also think people put WAY too much stock in Demetri's ability to staunchly stick with the good guys and have enough of a moral backbone to just keep opposing Eli's douchebaggery indefinitely. My mans is NOT that much of a saint, trust. From how quickly he forgave Eli for a HUGE number of atrocities, he seemed to be like. Waiting on his ass for Eli to come back to him. And if Eli never did???

I mean. Bruh. Someone you've been deeply in love with for years throws you out like last night's trash and just progressively starts being more and more awful to you??? You think it's feasible for my boy Demetri to stay strong and sane and reasonable forever, and just keep on fighting the good fight??? HELL NO. This dude is either a) quitting karate and moving schools so he doesn't have to deal with constantly being pummeled by the dude he's in love with or b) going completely fucking insane from the cognitive dissonance of being in love with a dude who constantly beats his ass.

Listen. I have been in love. If my friend who I was in love with turned evil and joined an evil karate school and started wailing on me all the time, I would either pull an Aisha and haul ass out of there or I would simply lose my mind and become evil. Go full Jinx from Arcane. Sorry if you're a hater who doesn't think Demetri Alexopoulos has it in him to go apeshit, but you're wrong and also boring. The funny kooky comic relief guys are always one thread away from losing their shit because everyone assumes because they're funny and kooky they have no depth and no end to their bullshit tolerance. I would know because I am one of these Guys in real life. Put some respecc on my boy's name and also give him another knife 🔪

For anyone looking at me askance like "Demetri doesn't have it in him to kill!" Yes he does. I'm sending him over to your house to stab you right now 🩵

No fr tho, like there was MURDER in this man's eyes when Kyler was bullying Eli in the library. There was MURDER in this man's eyes fighting Robby at the AVT in S4. I have full confidence that if he could get away with stabbing his enemies, he would. So would Eli but I feel like this is a less contested opinion.

Also this is interesting so it's something I might go into detail about in another post, but one thing I noticed while kinda brainstorming how Demetri would snap is that Demetri is loyal to people, while Eli is loyal to concepts and ideas.

Demetri I don't think is actually that married to or slavish about MD principles tbh. Demetri isn't really averse to violence conceptually (even back in S1 it's only ever about him disliking BEING hit, not disliking hitting people!!) and doesn't actually do the defense-only thing that often. Several times we see him instigate with Hawk, or help Sam instigate with CK in general. The times we see him stick his neck out to really help Miyagi Do, he seems like he's doing so more out of loyalty to his friends (namely Sam, Chris, and Nate--also Miguel irt the dojo team-up at the end of S3) than loyalty to Miyagi Do as a dojo.

Eli, meanwhile, is way more loyal to concepts he puts a lot of stock in than the people in his life who challenge this. He sees Cobra Kai as this almighty saving grace that is for LIFE, and he doesn't think twice about ditching Demetri and Miguel when they turn their backs on it. He stays in this dojo even as his friends leave and it fills up with people he hates, and his sensei dismisses and ignores his concerns. Because this dojo saved him from his horrible, bullied life, and now he feels like he owes everything to the Cobra Kai name, despite who's actually behind the name. Also why I think Demetri uses "my karate dojo needs your help!" as the selling point to get Eli to join MD in S4. HIS motivation is probably much more that he just wants him and Eli to stay together, but he knows Eli values dojo loyalty above everything, so Dem kinda makes it more about that than friendship.

Anyways! That's all for now! The whole fic should be up on my AO3 sometime in December :3

[nanakiwii]

STARDEW VALLEY HANNIGRAM???

What the actual-?!

Really????

The voices won.

I regret nothing.

---------

Prison was boring.

Being locked up, as Hannibal expected, was all about routine and schedule. You wake up, eat, shower and shit when they tell you to. Good behavior was the key to bring back some of his old life pleasures: books and music, for example, were some of those achievements he earned.

But, Hannibal sensed he still needed something, or, someone to fill this void he called existence. After three years of isolation and intense silence, Hannibal couldn't help but to dig in every interaction he shared with his beloved.

In the time while they were apart, Will - somehow - managed to get engaged and marry a faceless woman and, as much as it hurt Hannibal, he couldn't deny he was happy to see Will as desperate as himself to try to easy the pain of their distance.

The lack of human contact didn't do great to his temperament and Hannibal knew we was becoming more "sassy" as days passed. He was bored. The bliss of the attention he received by the media was gone for ages. He found every assumption of his "diagnose" wrong and very dumb. "If this is the proof of human brightness, then we're destined to live in darkness" he thought.

It was this boredom that made him poke Alana Bloom until he discovered a way to taunt Will and to end his sickening loneliness.

Stardew Valley.

Apparently, it was farming game he could play with friends and family. And who was Will if not a friend and part of his family? Well, Hannibal guessed he had to find a way to play this exquisite video game with his precious Will.

---------

~ Inspired by this horrendous comic I drew on the printscreen brush tool a long time ago while I was sleep deprived and very very bored.

Text:

Will: "What is this game about?"

Hannibal: "I suppose it's a farm game, Will."

Will: "And, why you wanna play with me?"

Hannibal: "Well, Alana commented about it, and I'm curious."

Will: "I don't believe you."

Hannibal: "Come on, Will. I'm locked and bored. Help me out."

Will: "Fine."

Later...

Will *behind a computer screen*: "I still don't know how you manage to have those things."

Hannibal *also behind a computer screen*: "I'm a very behaved prisoner."

Will: "..."

Will: "No, look, let's just play."

[Stardew Valley home screen]

Hannibal: "Soo much hair options."

Will: "Shut up."

Hannibal: "What do I put on 'favorite thing?'"

Hannibal: "Such a hard question!"

Will: "I wrote 'dogs'"

Hannibal: "Yeah, I suppose you did."

Will: "You want me to ask, don't you?"

Hannibal: "Ask what?"

Will: "What did you write?"

Hannibal: "Oh, hoho... You would be surprised."

Will: "If you say 'pork' I'll kill you."

Hannibal: "Then, you better pick a knife."

Will: "Fuck you and your cannibal jokes, Hannibal!"

Hannibal: "Me and my jokes."

[Hannibal's character building screen:

Name: Hannibal M.D

Farm Name: Hospital

Favorite Thing: Will Graham ]

End.

AGAIN: SORRY ABOUT THE MAJOR GRAMMAR AND ENGLISH ERRORS. I WAS HALF ASLEEP HALF ALIVE AND I NEEDED SOME CRACK FIC TO KEEP GOING!

I wanted to post it somewhere because I keep laughing alone about what I made and wanted to share with other people.

The art is shit, but someday I'll make something better (I probably won't. Will I?)

[goodluckclove]

CRIMEEEEEE

TELL ME THE CRIMEEEE

So I think this is from when Sleep Deprived Hangover Man invited the internet to ask them about the crimes they committed as a youth. I will be honest, this is not a super great thing I did. But because the statue of limitation is up and honestly none of the crimes are really - significant? They're just weird. I was an angsty, turbulent, manic youth.

And it turns out, I'm an equally turbulent adult. I tried to list the weird semi-crimes I've done in my childhood, and it sort of turned into a guide on how other young people can kind of break the law and get away with it. Maybe not law. Policy? Yeah, so it's not great and I'm putting it under a read more.

Disclaimer, since this is still technically my author page: I do not think any minor should do most crimes without just cause. Like within the legal system the trouble it could get you in sounds like it could really set you back for a long time. I actually don't even think you should immediately implement my advice across the board without practice and introspection and observation. It's actually a way harder skill to cultivate than people might expect, but if you can it will help you for a long time for things other than crimes.

Ideally you don't do it. If you want to, learn how to tell when the right time to do it would be. Don't make a point to inconvenience people more than you have to, both because that's a nice thing to do, and because it improves the odds of you getting away with it. I need to stop telling young people how to do crimes. Or do I? I don't know. If anyone has questions about my philosophy and experience you can ask and I'll say more.

I am a professional weirdo. Let's do this.

Let's go in a vague order!

I was suspended for terrorist death threats in the third grade. I do not believe this is fully my fault but it is a thing that happened.

I shoplifted a pretty decent amount, but not in a way I think any other youth would find cool. I stole candy and pens. But like GOOD pens.

I used to carry glitter glue on me for the sake of writing poetic phrases on various surfaces

Once I walked into an empty business lobby and moved around some plants and furniture, and then I left. If there was a camera there I probably created a strange story.

I generally trespassed a bunch of places all the time. All the time, straight up. If there was an open door or unattended hall that I wasn't supposed to explore I'm absolutely exploring it and taking whoever I'm with with me. I learned pretty quickly that I was charming enough to pull off being caught and getting myself out of it without any consequence. Literally, if you aren't actively causing trouble and just wandering around someplace you know you're not supposed to be, just tell someone who finds you and asks questions that you're lost and you aren't sure where to go. Like maybe you thought this was a way to the parking garage or the bathroom. Assuming I wasn't stealing, causing damage, or shouting slurs, this has worked for me 100% of the time.

Literally, if you do crimes that aren't crimes, you should practice being genuinely nice

Not fake snarky nice, like actually polite and respectful

You didn't realize you weren't supposed to be hanging out in that lot or in that parking garage. You were just trying to find a place to sit and chill. But yeah, you'll leave.

Yes, in retrospect walking down the lightrail tracks wasn't a safe or practical idea. But you took the wrong train and you genuinely didn't know how to get back and this was the only idea you had. You're just trying to get home. Look, you're even buying a ticket (I like never did that as a youth holy shit)!

a teenager is not going to win a fight with an adult who perceives themselves an authority. I don't think you should do whatever adult authority figures say. I do think that you should learn how to navigate your way out of conflicts within spaces in a way that means you can still use that space

if you break a rule and, instead of fighting, take the honest stance that you didn't mean to do that and, in fact, you actually need help from an Adult Authority Figure for a slightly unrelated thing that doesn't actually matter to you (directions to a place, maybe).

I genuinely just wandered around wherever I wanted and this always, always worked for me. I'm really good at looking confused and like I need help, because most of the time I am actually confused and need help

You are not in a sitcom and being sarcastic and snarky to a person that catches you trespassing will not not to anything but make you think you're cool. They'll still make you leave, and now you can't go back to the place you explored because you're the person that started shit instead of the person who got confused and made a mistake and apologized and left.

Adults in authority positions automatically assume a young person in a place/doing a thing they aren't supposed to do will turn it into a conflict. If you genuinely, honestly respond with respect and curiosity, I almost guarantee you'll get away with it. Fucking say you've never tagged before and you weren't really sure if it was still a crime in a place like this, but you get why the person is upset.

Offer to clean your own tag. Like not ironically. Ask if they have some supplies or if you can come back. Be entirely serious, say you're realizing it wasn't a good idea and you kind of regret it. This doesn't have to be true, but it will rattle a security guard or manager far more than if you call them a fascist.

They might yell still, but if you give them nothing they can justify as a reason to keep yelling at you they're actually going to look like the weirdo to themselves and everyone around them

thesis: misdemeanors are a lot easier to get away with if you are unafraid to look like you're naive and willing to learn and adapt. You might feel like it's a blow to your pride, but in the long run you will be able to do way more questionable shit. i came to this conclusion when I was 14 years old and decided I'd rather do weird shit than have the adult minor authority figures think i'm a peer or a worthy adversary, because neither of those things would happen anyway.

Okay so this just turned into a guide on how to do a misdemeanor. I should say now that there are crimes that are bad. Even tagging, something I truly enjoy, does create more work for employees and sanitation workers. That's frankly why I like ways that are easier to remove than spray paint and postage stickers if it's something you want to do.

And I'm not necessarily pro-shoplifting as, like, a hobby? I don't think it's great, mainly because if you are caught it'll probably lead to you being banned from the store you stole from. Which, if you're young, can be pretty hard to hide from the adults in your life. And the shaming that results from doesn't seem worth whatever you took. I still have a mug I shoplifted from Target, and I am not thrilled that I stole it, because it reminds me of a time in my life when I felt so shitty I decided to steal something to feel in control of a situation. And that sucks.

Compare that to moving furniture in some random office and then walking way. That's so fucking funny and I do not regret doing that at all. Imagine you're looking at security footage and you see that. That's some cryptid shit.

Young people - if you are weirder and nicer about it, the amount of stuff you can do widens extensively and you can potentially confuse adults who work otherwise boring and stressful jobs for a long time to come. Case closed.