#If this ever seems to turn into a job‚ I think I'll take a step back and either post less or post only for myself

[kira-light0-but-i-reblog-stuff]

I've gotten a few new followers recently for specific fandoms, so I just want to say thank you, but also I will not take it personally if you choose to unfollow because I reblog posts for a variety of fandoms here. (Thank you even more to my current followers who have endured me for this long).

I try to tag everything accordingly so posts can be blocked if necessary, but it's at least 7 different fandoms, so apologies in advance.

For reference, I queue around 20 posts a day from 5am to 11pm and I try not two have two posts from the same fandom in a row (unless I reblog without queuing).

Thank you again for following me, and remember that I do not mind if you choose to unfollow at any point. I know this blog is a mess.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

56 / 1.2k / medic reader + Ghost + coworkers with benefits

kinktober keywords: subtextual authority kink, workplace smut, rivals to rivals who fuck, coworkers with benefits?, voyeurism (mentioned), actual smut in part 2

...

You watch your would-be beau walk away, shoulder knocking against Simon’s as he goes.

Simon, for his part, doesn’t even bother casting the man a sideways glance. His frosty glare is reserved for you. "This is a military base. I don't think I need to repeat myself when I say that this isn't exactly the place to bring men back to your room."

"I'm familiar with the concept.” You make your tone as chilly as his. “I fail to see how what I do is any of your business." Behind him, you see someone else poke their head out of an open doorway and look around. There’s no way she misses the Ghost standing inside your room, staring you down. You hurry to close the door behind Simon.

"Who was he?"

"A friend from another regiment."

"Yeah? Really? A little late for a friend to be visiting, isn't it?"

"We had dinner. It ran late. I offered tea."

"Right," he drawls. "And all he wanted in return was a good cup of tea? Nothing else? You didn’t cozy up together?"

You cross your arms, saying nothing.

His mouth tightens. "You didn't."

"No. How could we when you barge in uninvited? As if what I do is any of your business.”

"It is my business when I spend my nights on the other side of this wall."

"That's not my problem, Simon."

He resists the urge to use his lieutenant voice. Or hit something. Medic or not, he won’t have you brushing him off. "It is your problem," he snaps, stepping up to stand squarely in front of you. "Don't talk back to me."

You say nothing, but don't back down. Instead, you glare up into his eyes and concede nothing. He’s not your boss and you don’t answer directly to him, but fuck if he’s ever tolerated your sass. Or you his strictness. You’ve never managed to be normal about each other.

He lets out a heavy breath, though it does little to calm him. "I shouldn't be hearing you with other men late at night. Do you get that?"

"Then don't listen."

You can feel his patience wearing thin. "It's kind of hard to," he says through his teeth, "when I can hear every damned sound you make."

Your eyes narrow. Does he mean…

"Everything," he says. You blush from your cheeks to your toes. "And I've been hearing it for a while, medic."

You cross your arms tighter, embarrassment bubbling up in your gut. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you could hear so much. That must be... annoying." you turn away and rub the back of your neck sheepishly. "I haven't really been with anyone since my last— well, the last year or so. I've been frustrated. But that's no excuse for disturbing others."

The sudden lapse in your defensive attitude seems to catch him off guard. He softens his tone, though his glare is still locked on you, stern as ever. "You haven’t been with Soap, then?”

Soap? That’s weirdly specific. You shake your head. "No. Look, don't worry about it. It's a personal matter. I won't bother you again."

There's a moment of silence.

"Look at me, medic."

You turn to him, your back stiff and your face as impassive as you can manage despite the sheer embarrassment coursing through you. "I'll keep it down, Simon."

His lips twitch. "The sound isn't what bothers me. What bothers me," he says, narrowing his eyes and leaning closer, "is that you want company."

"I know. I know. Relationships are off-limits."

He continues to watch you with what you’d swear is the beginning of a smirk. "You never told me that you missed being touched.”

A new flush heats your face immediately. God, the mortification.

"Frankly, I would rather die than admit that to anyone. Let alone my lieutenant."

He studies your reaction for a moment. Then he speaks again, his voice lower. "I'm happy you're comfortable enough to admit it to me," he says. "You're right. I am your lieutenant. I need to know what ails you because it's my job to take care of you. You can rely on me. For anything."

You look up at him again. You think you hear the implication in his words, but surely he's not saying what you think he's saying. Not Simon. Not Ghost.

He takes in your bewildered expression before letting out another heavy breath. When you still don't say anything, he takes a step back.

"Medic..." His tone of voice grows softer. "I'm offering you comfort. If you’d like it."

The longer you stare at him, the more the truth sinks in. He's really offering to get you off. To relieve tension. Ostensibly. Simon, of all people.

You look away. "That's against the rules, isn't it?"

He can't help the smirk this time, though his tone remains warm. "Relationships are against the rules, yes. But this isn't a relationship. This is an arrangement to alleviate tension. Nothing more."

The usual generic protests and reassurances die in your throat when Simon rolls his sleeves up, peeling his gloves off. You’ve never seen his bare hands before.

He chuckles at your expression. Then he reaches back and locks the door.

Your heartbeat accelerates. Your eyes travel up his muscled forearms to see him looking at you with deliberation, like you're the object of his next mission. But the anticipation in his eyes isn’t so clinical.

"Sit down."

Anticipation floods your nerves. Seemingly of their own accord, the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed. You sit.

His eyes never leave yours as he approaches. The room gets warmer with every step he takes, sizing you up. When he reaches you, he stops just before his leg can brush the insides of your knees.

"May I?"

Your fingertips tingle. You want to say yes. You didn't know how much you’d want to say yes until right now. But...

You shift, pressing your thighs together, fighting the urge to ring your hands. "I'm not an easy or particularly fun woman to please, Simon." You glance up at him, trying not to look pained. You’re not trying to challenge him. You’re just trying to let him down easy and give him an out. You’re trying to tell him he doesn't want to do this; it’s too much effort. After all, you yourself have been trying to give yourself an orgasm for months without real success.

Still, your warning doesn’t seem to deter him. "Then I'll put in the time and the work," he says. "I need your permission. Yes or no. Do you trust me to take care of you?"

You swallow, your heart skipping. You want that very much. You honestly wonder if he can feel the selfish want rolling off of you in waves. But do you trust him with this kind of vulnerability?

It's not much of a question.

You look him in the eye, your voice even. The tension between you tilts. "Yes. I do."

"Good." He takes another step forward. The air thickens with your proximity. His boots nudge your bare feet. "Lay back. Let me do my job."

...

[part 1] / part 2

more Ghost / masterlist

[riality-check]

DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2

"I have to open it."

"Nope."

"Gareth. I need to open it."

"The vault is sacred," Archie says.

At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."

Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"

"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.

Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.

"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.

"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.

Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."

Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.

It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.

He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.

Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.

Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.

(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)

From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.

Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.

"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.

"Is that how we ask?"

"I could always yank the key off you."

Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.

Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.

Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.

And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.

But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.

Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.

Or maybe Steve was just that hot.

He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.

His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:

I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.

Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.

"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.

"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."

"What did he say?" Archie asks.

Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.

Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.

"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.

"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.

Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.

"What do I say?" he asks.

Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."

"I don't know how!"

"You ground against a guitar-"

"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"

Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"

"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.

Jeff barks out a laugh.

"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.

Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?

"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.

"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.

Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.

"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.

"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.

"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."

"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"

"He might be ace."

"Archie, shut the fuck up."

He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.

Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.

He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.

This is. So bad.

And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.

Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.

I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.

"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.

"He's single!" Gareth cheers.

"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.

"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.

They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.

But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.

He writes back, once he's calmed down:

Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.

[keerysfreckles]

lacy, oh lacy — LS2

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (no pronouns used)

summary: when logan needs more comforting than ever, he knows you'll be there.

warnings: sad logan, short fic, not proofread

a/n: james vowles. count your days.

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

when you got the text your heart broke.

'i'm not in williams anymore.'

when you got the call your heart broke even more.

his pained cracking voice sends a wave of hurt through your body. you never moved so fast to get out of your job, just telling your boss you needed to leave right now. you could've sworn you sped the whole way home but you didn't care. you needes to get to logan.

you kept the call going the whole way home, just letting him get anything he needed to off his chest. your heart clenched every time his voice broke or trailed off, or when you heard his muffled sniffling as he tried to hide it the best he could.

you promised him you were almost home, and told him you'd be there in five minutes. however as you were about to get closer to the small grocery store by your shared apartment, you had an idea.

you walked briskly down the aisles, knowing exactly what you needed to get.

you opened the third freezer door and grabbed a carton of chocolate chip ice cream. in the past if logan happened to he upset for any reason, this seemed to always brighten his mood. you only hoped the ice cream would work today.

while walking towards your apartment door and fumbling with your keys, you worry if logan's mood has gotten worse since you ended the call. you're quick with unlocking the door.

"logan?" no response.

you take off your shoes and coat by the front door, then proceed down the hallway to your bedroom. you bring the shopping bag with you, the cold ice cream hitting your leg with each step.

you can't think your heart could break more, until you see logan. he's in bed, staring at something on his phone with red puffy eyes and a matching red nose.

you silently walk over to him, leaving the ice cream at the edge of the bed. you hug him sideways, and he immediately leans into your embrace. at your contact his eyes start to water again. his body shakes as the minutes pass, only making you want to hold him impossibly closer.

your countless kisses placed on top of head don't seem to be calming him down.

this is when you look at his discared phone in his lap. it's the email sent from williams about his release.

"you know looking at the email won't change anything lo?" you question softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair.

you feel him nod, "i just don't know what else to do," his voice cracks once more.

you begin to let go of him, but his hands tighten around you. "don't leave, please."

you kiss his head again, "i'm only going to change, then we can cuddle as much as you want. plus i got you ice cream."

he looks up at you for the first time today. his bloodshot eyes make you yourself want to cry. "chocolate chip?"

"of course," you smile before kissing him gently on the lips.

after you change out of your work clothes as quickly as possible, you grab two spoons so you and logan can enjoy the ice cream.

you begin to smile once you walk back into the bedroom. logan placed his phone down on the nightstand, and had cars queued on the tv across from the bed.

you sat next to him before placing the blanket over the both of you. you turned towards him, letting him lean into you again. youe legs ended up tangling together under the blanket as you got comfortable. the ice cream was in between you, providing both of you with a sense of familiarity and comfort.

"i love you," logan looks at you, before a small smile spreads over his features.

"i love you more, and i'm nothing but proud of you," you lean forward to kiss him, "i'll always be here for you."

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Cheater + Cheater Reader

Yan Cheaters are funny lemme try-

Yan Cheater who sees their darling dearest out on the town alone. You should be with them, but they'll fix that shortly. You're the person of their dreams and after so many failed relationships they're happy to find the right one. On their way over, their entire world crumbles as you're seen hugging and chatting up some random with a closeness you've never showed them. The unfamiliar face slings an arm around your shoulder as you walk off together - laughing as if you were without guilt.

You heartless bitch. How could you? After they'd give you their heart - their everything. Fine, fuck you - they could do the same thing. After crying through the night and crying their eyes they hit up a past fling to forget all about you; aggravated that all they can think of as the look at their partner is features that remind them of you. They ignore your calls, block you on everything, and have the time of their life with whoever's available... And looks like you.

The first time you saw them with someone else you turned tail and ran, saving your tears for a better time and person. Good - run off. You know what you did. They won't chase you - no matter how red their heart bleeds after seeing you after so long. You meet again at a party a mutual friend left in the dark was throwing. You, for closure - them, looking for a new body to take home. They couldn't even hide their disgust as you stomped up to them, two lockets in hand.

"What the hell did I do to you...."

They scoff. Trying to play innocent? "You know what you did."

"No! No I don't! You ghost me for weeks and never seem to be home when I try to talk to you, but the second I see you, you have your arm around somebody else. As far I remember, we were happy together. What did I do to you to deserve this?!"

"Hm... I think it was roughly a month ago. You and that little whore you met outside that coffee shop that just opened."

"Coffee shop?... Wha-" Your eyes widen. Unable to control your anger, you slap them across the face so hard the blow rattles in their teeth. They clutch their jaw. You little-

"That was my cousin, asshole!"

You toss the necklaces to the ground, two sets of initials engraved on their fronts.

"You didn't even bother to ask me about it before you ran off. If you really loved me, you wouldn't say something instead of jumping to conclusions. I knew dating you was a mistake. You spineless coward."

Their tongue feels heavy, likely cut on their teeth from your blow - bleeding; just like the heart they thought they lost. In a way - they truly had.

"Couldn't get a refund since they were custom" You spit on the fallen jewelry as you turn your back to them. "Happy Anniversary."

They fall to their knees, crawling after you as you fall into the crowd - grabbing your ankle. "No, baby. Please, baby - I fucked up bad, I know, but I can make this up to you. Sweetheart please - I'll delete everyone in my phone right now, even my parents. You'll be the only one. You're all I need. Baby, see? I'm doing it - look. Look at me - I'm sorry. Angel? Honey? D- don't leave me... DON'T LEAVE ME."

You have to change your phone number the very next day from all the calls you receive from the burner phones they purchased that same night to speak their part. Jobs too - as they stand outside and harass customers since your boss refused to let them in by your own wishes - accusing everyone of trying to take you away from them. You return home one day to find your front door unlocked and before you can realize the danger you step inside - your ex waiting with a carbon copy of every gift you threw out and wearing everything you ever gave them.

"Darling... I'm wearing that shirt you bought me last Christmas. I honestly thought it was hideous - but...it came from you. I'm wearing that hoodie you thought you lost too. I lied because I wanted to have something that smells like you to keep. It doesn't smell much like you anymore. Only my tears. I'm sorry - I won't ever lie to you again. You're perfect. My sweet angel. Please...give me a second chance. I don't know what I'll do if you don't."

[disneyprincemuke]

it was only a kiss * fem!driver

it's just a kiss. surely, it isn't that big of a deal, right?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: LOL i'll write her race win and post it this week i swear!!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

logan does not know when he started to go against his better judgment. it could have been the shots they were taking with dalton earlier in the evening, or perhaps it was when they locked themselves away in her room to eat the birthday pancakes she had gotten him.

maybe it’s a thing that just consumed him at the moment — the fireworks as the new year came and greeted them was an atmosphere he simply could not resist her in.

because he kissed her– no, he’s kissing her. right now. against all his rationalisation, without warning, without permission. without even thinking about it.

the last thing he remembers is her turning to him with a wide smile wishing him a happy new year and suddenly he was hunched over with their lips locked. everything seems to go slowly now like he was trying to savour the moment and remember the way she tastes for the rest of his life.

he didn’t know how long it took her back to start kissing him back, but she did, eventually. she put her hands on either side of his face and everything else just fell away. logan had never been the type to get so lost in a kiss before. his heart is skipping beats as he tries her damnest to pull her closer to him, as if their bodies are not already pressed up on one another.

suddenly all the things he’s spent the past 3 years worrying about didn’t matter. not one thought about how their friendship is too great to risk it for pops up currently, and definitely nothing about the neverending excuses about their jobs and their places in their lives now.

and it’s nothing less for her. when he bent down and crashed his lips onto hers, suddenly they were the only 2 people in the house. she barely heard the fireworks crack the sky apart or the way dalton looked up from the backyard to greet them, only to raise his eyebrows and giggle to himself as he went away to get more drinks.

nothing matters. just the fact that she and logan are finally kissing. after 9 years of friendship and 3 long years pining over him, this is their first kiss and the first time she’s getting to know his mouth.

it’s devastating — they should have been kissing the moment they realised they had feelings for one another, she thinks. her lips feel so at home against his like it was a match made in heaven.

it just feels so right.

logan doesn’t want to be the one to pull away. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he saw her snuggled in his bed 3 years ago and realised that he no longer saw her as a best friend. and neither does she; the feel of his lips against hers is not one that she wants to forget.

yet, the world is cruel that way.

they pull away at the same time, stumbling back with swollen lips and heaving chests. their eyes are wide, and she blinks rapidly as if she still can’t believe what had just happened.

how long were they kissing? he glances over the balcony and notices that the crowd once gathered for the fireworks has now dispersed into different areas of the backyard.

“i’m sorry,” logan says immediately, sensing the hesitation coming from her. he shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the intensity of the moment they’d just shared. “oh, god. i’m so sorry.”

“i,” she trails off, looking down at her hands. she’s yearned to have this feeling for years; she’s afraid that one sudden move might reveal that it’s just another dream and she’d wake up by herself in her bed. she looks up again with a soft sigh. “logan.”

she says his name and he feels all his defenses crumbling down in an instant. his name only ever sounds good when it rolls off her tongue.

“i don’t know what came over me,” logan starts to explain, still shaking his head. “i’m so so sorry. i didn’t–“

she shakes her head and takes a step forward, hands in the air in an attempt to calm him down. “logan. relax.” she takes another step forward with caution and grins very slightly as she takes his hand into hers. “do you wanna go get a drink first?”

truthfully, logan wants to kind of kiss her again. he’d waited this long, held himself back from the urge to want his best friend wholeheartedly only for him to realise that kissing her was just as dreamy as he imagined it would be.

he looks up from the ground when she squeezes his hand. she doesn’t say anything else, but there is something about the way she smiles up at him that compels his brain to quiet down for a minute. he nods and lets her pull him towards the door, he’s assuming to make an appearance at the party downstairs.

but oh, god, someone needs to tell him how to resist the urge to do the same thing again.

so they don’t talk about the kiss all night. instead of actually talking about it, they decided to join the party downstairs and drown themselves in alcohol until the sun rose. you know, doing the one thing they’re actually not foreign to.

even worse when she briefly remembered the way they’ve — at one point or another — said ‘i love you’ to one another while drunk off their minds at least once in the past 3 years.

and instead of talking about it after the party, stumbling back into her guest bedroom, they climbed under the covers and slept instead. next to one another. which wouldn’t be an issue since they’ve slept in the same bed multiple times, but this time was different.

it’s different because they’re tangled in one another with the blankets strewn over their bodies.

all logan can think of after he opens his eyes is how he’s finally where he's wanted to be after years of dancing around the thought of them. he looks down and is immediately enamoured by the way her arm is slung over his body, face nuzzled into the side of his body as her chest rises and falls steadily.

it feels surreal to finally get the girl he wants for a change. but he knows — and he knows that she knows — the reason they kept dancing around the possibility of them, and it’s still gnawing at him annoyingly from the back of his head. he’s tried to ignore it all night but it’s there.

all night, looking across the lawn as she interacted with his family, he found himself wishing things were different.

she moves very slightly, nuzzling her face further into him and stretches an arm out. for a moment, his heart drops at the thought that she would wake up. because that means that this would all be over and all rationalisation would hit her as well once more.

he doesn’t know though that she’d been awake for the better part of the past 15 minutes, frozen in her spot next to him, refusing to let it end. you never know for sure that you’re made for somebody until you fit perfectly along the crevices of their body every single time.

sure, they’ve hugged and shared beds before, but never this way. it’s an eye-opening experience to spend the night with someone innocently and suddenly realise that soulmates may actually exist in one form or another. it’s just upsetting that sometimes they come in the form of a best friend you’ve known for half your life, making it all the more damaging to keep thinking of them as somebody more.

but staying in this position any longer might cause logan to explode. she lifts her head slightly when she felt him rubbing her arm gently, met by a soft smile and she knew that the events of the night before would only bode disaster than anything else.

“you can’t keep avoiding me all day,” a voice follows him down the hall of the second floor of his home, “we’re in the same house for an entire week.”

logan doesn’t respond, just keeps walking further down the hall and down the stairs as if he hadn’t heard her pleas for the last minute.

they didn’t speak of anything either when they got out of bed. only excused themselves to freshen up for breakfast with his family before avoiding one another’s eyes and darting to different parts of the room: her to the toilet and him back to his bedroom.

“hey, what is your problem!” she shrieks. her footsteps echo down the stairs, grabbing logan’s shoulder to turn him around to face her. “you can’t just kiss me and then not say anything! what the fuck, logan!”

he looks up at her, standing two steps above him, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. he can’t possibly be the only one who can clearly see the implications of what transpired, right? “i don’t know what to say to you.”

she throws your head back slightly, blinking at him as she tries raking her brain for a response. what– what the fuck does that even mean? “what?”

logan huffs, lips pursed. “i want you,” he lays it down for her, shocked at the way that it had come out. frustration laces his every word as he speaks, simply because it’s… it’s frustrating to be this close to the person you want but can’t have. “it is as simple and as complicated as that. you know that, come on!”

“it doesn’t have to be.” he tilts his head, shaking his head before he turns around and walks the stairs again. she throws her arms into the air in frustration as she chases him again. “mate!”

“i told you,” logan huffs, turning around at the bottom of the stairs, “i’m sorry that i kissed you. i don’t know what came over me — i did it without thinking. i’ve wanted to kiss you for years, so i’m sorry i couldn’t hold myself back.”

“why are you apologising? did you hit your head and forget that i kissed you back?” she meets him at the bottom step and puts her hands on her hips. she closes her eyes and sucks in a breath, letting it out shakily as she says his name softly.

he shakes his head. “don’t even do that. that’s not fair.”

“don’t do what?”

“don’t do that shakey breath and then say my name whenever you don’t get what you want! this is different — this is not something as superficial as you not getting ice cream when you ask for it!” logan rambles, rolling his eyes. “it’s not the same!”

“then how do you suppose we should deal with this then?” she leans back on the railing of the stairs and raises an eyebrow. “you started the whole mess, i believe you should have an answer.”

“nothing can change. in fact, nothing’s gonna change,” he sighs, suddenly hoping that he can take his words back when she melts in her position and her frown grows. “not for me and you. you already know this, please, don’t be like that.”

she glares up at him, mirroring the frustration he’d been feeling all morning. simply for the fact that she knows logan is right. there are many reasons they pushed their feelings back but being in f1 together is the most prominent one.

“i know.” her voice barely comes out in a whisper, clenching her jaw as she looks away. it shouldn’t have to be this complicated, right?

love shouldn’t be this complicated.

“i just wish it was easier than this,” she admits, dropping her head as tears rush into her eyes. “i thought because we k–“

“me too.” he takes several steps forward, wrapping his arms around her. “but this is our reality. you didn’t work this hard to get where you are just for you to be reduced to the person you’re dating. we’ve had this conversation before 2 years ago.”

she freezes. as far as she’s concerned, he was blackout drunk that night they had the conversation. “you remember that?”

he hums. “‘course, i do.” he rests his chin on her head and starts to rub circles on her back. “i’m sorry it has to be this complicated.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @clemswrld @inejismywife @love4lando

[lustlovehart]

since reqs are still open i have a thought,,,,

scara/wanderer falling in love with reader all over again after he forgets them and everything else after the attempt of becoming god feel free to ignore those

A/n: For the sake of this request, he forgets who he is for months instead of just a day.

Summary: He’s had no name for so long, maybe his salvation is the voice that has remained in his head. Though, it seems that voice has turned to reality.

Warnings: Told from his perspective, Wanderer without his memories, but bonus is when he does get them back, Spoilers for Sumeru, Scara wants to kill Dottore, Jealousy, Kinda corny

Puppets are meant to have strings, and yet he is forced to lift his limbs on his own. Puppets have puppeteers make them do what they must yet he has to think for himself.

It makes sense, yet why is he left to walk without a purpose.

It feels like he's forgotten something from his past, yet there is no past for him to remember.

"Kuni... Have you... that isn't my... Huh...? You're just embarrassed I... pictures... Didn't hide... Okay... Think it's sweet... from you...!"

It's like his brain only had memories of some broken past he could no longer recall. Yet, he still finds some worth in the broken words that echo in his head.

"Uhm sir...? Can you please hand me that sunsettia? I have the Mora for it."

His trance is quickly dissipated as the voice in front of him is sounded. It feels familiar yet he doesn't have it saved in his brain.

"Huh...? Oh sure."

With no sure background on himself, nor any real idea of how he came to be, he's stuck working many jobs. His finger tips quickly brush against the hand in front of him, it felt like static rushed up to his chest, though he lacked a heart it felt as if there was one there.

"Thank you, I'll be taking my leave, so, have a good day." Familar...

"Sunsettias and Bulle fruit are kinda different huh? In fontaine, there's this certain candy made out of it, have you ever had it Kuni? No? I'll bring you some when I go back! You wanna come too...? Wha?! Don't act like you didn't say that! Hey don't walk away from me!"

Before he could reach out and ask for your name, you had already walked away from him. It didn't feel like the first time it had happened either.

A week later, all he could remember was that single interaction. His fingers still tingling whenever he remembered you.

It's as if he had some third sense for you, the moment you step into the bazaar his eyes quickly looked toward the direction you had cam in from.

"What is your name" his hands cling onto your wrist, even though you weren't planning to leave any time soon, almost like he felt as if he let go you would disappear once more.

"Wha...?" You're still not too caught up in what it is exactly he's asking so your don't answer, only quirking your eyebrow at him.

"Name?"

"Mine? It's [Name]...?" He quietly whispers it under his breath, like a mantra, a prayer. When he says your name again it's like it melts off his tongue.

Like you belong there on his lips.

"Am I in trouble? I promise i didn't steal anything from the stand sir!"

"What? No no, It's not that." He pauses before he speaks, a little hesitant while he thinks of his wording to dish out, how does he ask without coming off as weird? "I think... You're... You seem familiar."

"Hm? Well I do get supplies here often so maybe that's it-"

"Can we have dinner later?"

"Wait wha? Well, I mean we can, but I only know you as the vendor here, so that's kinda sudden is it not...?" He takes what you say into consideration, but only shrugs his shoulders.

"It probably is but, I wanna talk to you more." He couldn't let the opportunity slip between his fake fingers, for such a long time since he had awoken, it's like your voice had been in his head for such a long time.

No, not like... Your voice has been with him.

------

Months had passed by in such a hurry, yet he still had no title to go by. He didn't have anything attached to his person, so he told you the name he remembers feint whispers of.

"Kuni...?"

He can tell in your expression the name is familiar on your tongue, but does not hold any memories in your head. He doesn’t mind though, it's nice to hear you adress him, even if if the name you speak isnt one he remembers.

It doesn't take long before occasionally meets up turned into daily hang outs. There wouldn't be a second where you two weren't attached by the hips.

The two of you sit on the highest branch of the tree located at port ormos, your head rested on his shoulders while the wind calmly brushes by the two of you.

"Kuni." He doesn’t give you an answer but you can feel his eyes bore into you.

"I have to leave next week. Something urgent came up and… My job needs me to leave sumeru for some time, i’m not sure how long though." His expression doesn’t give too much away, but when you lift your head to look at him, the slight squint in his eyes is all you need to know he’s upset by it. “Don’t give me that look, it probably isn’t gonna be for more than a month anyway so i’ll be back soon.” He turns his head away from you, presumably to hide whatever look he has splayed on his face.

“Don’t be like that, besides, it’s my birthday soon. It’ll give you time to prepare for when I get back.” He still doesn’t answer you. A sigh leaves your throat before your hand reaches up to his face, pulling it closer to your lips as a quick peck is placed on his cheek. It’s enough to stun him a bit, watching his brain short circuit in real time while a smile cracks on your mouth.

“What would you want anyway? You’re not too open about your wants.” It’s nice to know he cares. Though you don't give him a straight answer, once again deciding to mess with him.

"Who knows, maybe I want you-" it doesn't take long before a palm pushes your face mid sentence. "Wha?! I was gonna ask for food."

With the way his face is turned, you'll never notice the way his face is warmed. He's sure if he had one, his chest would be beating sporadically.

He hopes the two of you can last.

------

Bonus:

It had been awhile since he had last seen you, 2 weeks maybe? At the time, when you had told him on your little date, he didn’t think much of it, he had only the memories of the clothes on his back to stick to, so he really believed it was for a simple job.

But with his memories back, he knows what your "job" truly is. Formerly, you were his assistant back in his harbinger days, but now that he is no longer the ballader, he can only seethe in silence at the thought of you being a differnt harbingers aid.

He might even go insane if he finds out you're to be working under The Doctor.

God Forbid, he finds out that man has been messing with you, he'll gladly become a god once more if that means he can protect you, or better yet, destroy him.

Instead of his hiding spot being a place to relax, he's now left with the thought of Dottore in his mind, it makes his hands curls into balls, grassblades ripping apart at how tight he's clutching his fists, he's sure if he was human there would no doubt be blood pouring out-

A sudden weight had jumped on him from behind, arms quickly tightening around him, a familar head coming into view.

"I finally found you." His eyes are right in front of your own, like your eyes are locked onto his and he can't look away from you. "I was worried, about you, ever since I had come back yesterday, you weren't at the usual spot."

Of course he wouldn't be. He had finally remembered his past sins, he no longer felt worthy enough to lay by your side.

But he still had some sense to at least protect you from the shadows.

"I just felt like changing the scenery is all."

"Hm? You've never wanted to do that before. Did something happen?"

His fingers... His fake fingers, tightly grip onto your very real arm.

"Maybe I've grown a hatred for doctors, is that not reasonable?"

"Huh...?? It's certainly random to change a spot for that reason that's for sure."

"If a certain doctor had any copies of himself, I would've loved to rip him to pieces."

"Okay future serial killer..."

He doesn't answer, maybe... Maybe it's best you don't remember his past atrocities with him.

"Perhaps you're one too [Name], who knows, maybe you're just as bad as me."

Your head leans forward, resting your chin on his shoulder while he talks.

"If that's the case, we really are meant to be huh?"

He let's a laugh escape his throat, not the usual one he lets out, filled with joy, it's filled with something more sinister, menacing? Yet it's still filled with some love for you.

"Yeah, that might be why we're together again."

"Again? Did you date a doppelganger?"

"Just sit down."

" Oh wow, that's some new attitude."

---

Wanderer before he got his memories back would probably be really awkward so I tried to incorpate that. (I wrote this really sporadically, so there's probably a lot of mistakes and really rushed I'm so sorry 😔)

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

A New Beginning - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader

Summary: The birth of your daughter with Lucifer brings some of his fears to the surface as he meets her for the first time, but you're there to help him.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Fluff, some angst, but mostly fluff

The moment she came into the world you knew you'd always love her. Your sweet baby girl looked a lot like her father, and while she had gotten your eyes, everything else seemed to have come from Lucifer. She had the most stunning golden hair you had ever seen, and the lighter streaks of blonde running through it only added to her beauty. Her chubby little cheeks were the most adorable shade of a bright, rosy red, and when she smiled you felt a happiness stronger than you had ever experienced before.

She was perfect.

"God, she looks so much like Charlie when she was born." Gently leaning over, Lucifer held out a finger, and your daughter grabbed onto it, curious eyes looking up at him. "Hi, my baby," he cooed, gently taking her from you, and holding her in his arms. "You're so precious."

You melted at the sight, a warmth filling you as you watched the scene in front of you. He was being careful with her, almost as if he was afraid she'd break at any moment, and the soft way he spoke to her made you fall in love with him all over again. You had always thought you made the right choice all those months ago when you asked him to have a baby with you, and your belief only grew as you looked at them.

"Darling?" Lucifer asked you. "Are you crying?"

You sniffled, nodding in response. It was beautiful. The two loves of your life in front of you had brought you to tears of joy. You loved them so, so much. "I'm just so happy, Lucifer. You're such a great dad."

Your husband looked away, avoiding your gaze, smiling sadly. "I'm not—I could've–" He sighed, unable to find the words. He handed her back to you, and you tilted your head slightly in confusion as he took a few steps back and began to nervously fidget with his cane.

"I could've done better with Charlie." He looked at your baby, the same sad, pained smile on his face. "I'm probably going to fuck up with this one, too." He let out a small, humorless, bitter laugh. You frowned.

"Lucifer, honey." You motioned for him to come closer, and he did, letting you hold his face in one of your hands. "Not all of it's your fault, okay?" You reassured him. He had told you about Lilith, and how she would distance him from Charlie, and how that ultimately helped lead up to his current, rocky father-daughter relationship with her.

He fought back tears. "I–I know you're not Lilith, but–fuck—I'm scared that the same thing's gonna happen, or that I'll screw up some other way. I want to be a good father. I need to be a good father. For her."

"And you will be." You promised. "I can already tell how much you love her, and I know you'll do an amazing job. Think of this as a new beginning for you. A chance to do even better."

He frowned, still filled with self-doubt, but nodded in agreement. This would be a new start for him, and he wouldn't waste his chance. His frown turned into a grin as your daughter reached out her tiny hands towards him, wanting to be held by her father again, and he gladly took her from you.

"Oh!" He said suddenly, letting out a small laugh as he realized something. "We never gave her a name!" He was right. Amid all the emotions, both good and bad, you had both managed to forget about her name.

"What should we—"

"Stella." You decided, cutting him off. She was your little star, your bright light in the darkness, and the cosmic-themed name fit her excellently. A wonderful name for the wonderful little girl you had brought into the world.

"Stella." He said, testing the name out. "I like it." He smiled down at her. "I'll be the best dad you could ever ask for, Stella. I promise."

You knew he wouldn't let her down. She was his new beginning, and he'd stay true to his word.

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three��and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[yesihaveaobsession]

The Facility Manager

Alastor x female!maid reader

Summary: Alastor uses his title of the hotel's facility manager as an advantage to be with the new pretty maid. You.

Warnings: Al is VERY flirty, actually.. I Mena (how can you not when you're wearing a hit maids dress am I right?)

A/N- hope y'all enjoy :)

You were hired as the new maid for the Hazbin Hotel. You were quite excited because you believed in the cause and you loved to clean and organize. It was your first day on the job, and the Princess had a simple task for you: dusting. You were dusting something from below, so you had to bend down slightly. That's when you heard a voice that sounded staticky.

“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!” The voice struck you out of your thinking space. To your surprise, you turned your attention to the voice—it was a rather tall and slightly handsome deer man who was right at your face. You didn't know how to respond before he did.

“Pleasure to meet you, Dear, just a pleasure! I’m Alastor, the radio demon! You must be the new maid, hmm?” You stood up from your somewhat bent position and brushed off your maid's dress that was black but had red accents. "Yes, yes, I am," you replied, taking a small step back to give the two of you some space. The deer man only smiled.

He hovered over you, then he bent down at the waist as his finger rested under your chin. "You're quite adorable," he complimented you. You weren't sure if your blush had shown, but all in all, Princess Charlie regretted to tell you that the Radio Demon was one at the hotel and two the Facility Manager in the first place, so your interaction between the two of you was just you being shocked.

"Um, thank you?" you replied, and the smile that he seemed to be wearing this whole interaction only got bigger. Then he said, "You'll be working for me, I'll be keeping a close eye on you." Confused, you told him, "Well, the princess said I'll be working for everyone, technically."

"In a way, yes," Alastor hissed as he drew a finger down your exposed chest due to the uniform that was given to you. You definitely blushed, and he most definitely noticed. Angel Dust, the fellow pink spider, had told you about his nickname for the demon: tall, dark, and creepy. And in this scenario, you would agree, but you had a feeling that he was flirting with you. Was he?

"I... um should get back to work..." you said, picking up your duster. But he didn't seem to get the hint. "Oh, don't be so silly! You can take a small break..." Before you could respond, he leaned in close again to your face, and you only just looked up at him as a response. "Take a break." Your heart started to pound in your chest all of a sudden due to the close proximity.

Most certainly didn't help when he ever so slightly moved closer to where you could feel his breath on your lips. "Mr. Alastor, I—" you began, but certainly was shut down. He covered your mouth with his claw with another wide grin.

"Oh, but it's only just getting fun." What did he mean by that?

"I need to get back to work," you pushed once more, but of course, the man LOVED to invade everyone's personal space, so he pushed back. He knew he was making you flustered, so he only kept it going by placing his other hand on your shoulder.

"I said, you're taking a short break," Alastor said with hooded eyes almost and a closed-lipped smile. You had to get away from the conversation and wanted to veer away from it. "Could you show me to where I'll be staying?" you asked. His eyes got wider with a head tilt, the Radio Demon said, "Of course," he purred while placing a claw on your lower back and leading you towards a door, his eyes closed and head up before the two of you stopped in front of the door.

Alastor holds the door open for you to your room. You walked in. "Now, my room is right next to yours, so it won't be an issue if you ever need me, dear."

"Great... thanks," you said. Of course, he put your room right next to yours; the two of you share walls, just what you had ever wanted. Placing your bag on the bed, feeling Alastor press against your back, "You're welcome," he whispered with a smirk. You paused.

"Now, I'll be keeping a close eye on you, so be sure to behave," you gulped, and Alastor took a step back as you just looked at him. He laughed and patted your head. "So serious."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight. my dear" Alastor placed a hand on your hip and whispered again. Your heart pounded in your chest. Alastor then shut the door softly, leaving you just standing there, rethinking what just happened. Then you decided to finish getting settled in and then going to bed. An hour or two later, there was a soft knock on your door. Groaning, you got up and were in your PJs, opening the door. He stood there, looking down at you. "...Can I come inside for a moment?"

"I um, suppose." He nodded and walked into your room as he looked at the progress you made of settling in before looking back at you.

"Now, you must be tired, no?"

"I am."

"Alright then... let me make you... 'a bit more comfortable. "He steps closer, and what did he mean by that? Your heart sank. Truly. "Actually, I'm okay..." You didn't care if he heard the terror in your voice; there was no way that you were going to get down to the supposed Facility Manager on your first day.

"Oh? You're turning down my kindness?" He said as he took a small step forward. "I'm comfortable but thank you."

"Hm... are you sure?" His neck cranked to the side, and he was now dangerously getting close to you. Only inches now stood between you two. Your back had hit the bed, and you were laying on top of the covers.

"You... sure you're comfortable?" He was still staring down at you.

"Yes, thank you." You said, and he leaned down again, a few millimeters away from your lips, he had that small closed-lipped smile again. He reached for the blanket to put over you.

"Goodnight, again." A sinister grin spread across his face. "...Sleep well, my darling."

You went to sleep and was ready for your second day of being the Hazbin Hotels maid.

HERE'S THE PICTURE OF THE DRESS I DESIGNED :D

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

rrriiight i was thinking of a hualian x reader thing. the reader is a bit cold and apathetic but caring of two certain people and had been all the way through with hualian like for example, had served xie lian when he was still a prince or helped hong er from time to time. but somehow they just vanished and never came back.

surprise surprise, whilst hualian and some other gods were on a mission, they got attacked let’s say (or were in danger) and guess who came to save them? reader! and thats when it clicks for hualian. that was you. you weren’t gone. so- they never let you get away ever again.

just an idea that came to mind :D

In the Back of Your Mind

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

I'm so sorry it took so long! I try to put my life updates in my bio, but I've been very busy moving houses! So I'm rlly sorry and I hope this is good!

I didn't know if you wanted reader to be a ghost or a god but I made them a ghost

Because gods don't usually disappear for like ever? Idk uhm if you don't like that just tell me and I'll edit it!

Made up a scenario that puts Xie Lian and Hua Cheng at a disadvantage

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC!!!

Made up details about reader and their life

____________________________________

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are very happy with their relationship and their life

But something's missing

Someone's missing

They haven't seen you in a very, very long time

It's been centuries actually and you still haven't shown up

But they haven't forgotten you, even though you've been missing or maybe even dead they still think about you in the back of their head.

Xie Lian misses you dearly

You had served Xie Lian during XianLe and had always been by his side.

You took your job seriously and it was your first priority to keep Xie Lian happy

You served him well and fought for him too

Your loyalty to Xie Lian was deep and everyone could see it

Everyone knew you loved him besides Xie Lian of course.

Because it was obvious! You wouldn't utter a word to anyone else

Your presence was a cold force to anyone besides Xie Lian

You were always quick to create space with anyone who came near him too.

It seemed like you couldn't care less for anyone else's problems but Xie Lian's.

Not that it mattered to you, as long as you could stay by his side it didn't matter what you were

Whether you were his servant or guard, whether you were next to him or below him, whether he used you as a step or tool.

You never minded, you'd do anything for him even if he wouldn't do those things.

You stayed by his side when Mu Qing and Feng Xin disappeare

You stayed when his palace fell

When his parents died

When Xie Lian started on a bad path

When he turned meaner, rougher, and angrier so that he wouldn't be hurt by the world again

When he grieved because he had been done wrong

You stayed with Xie Lian for as long as you could, and you loved him deeply every second of it.

But then someone took you from Xie Lian.

You never came back

Hua Cheng misses you just as dearly.

You took care of Xie Lian so well and then you just disappeared

When Hong er as caught by Xie Lian obviously he couldn't take care of Hong er by himself

But when Xie Lian was busy, everyone else was too disgusted to touch him

And Hong er didn't want to be in anyone else's arms either

You were different though, even though you were a servant like Mu Qing and Feng Xin you reacted differently

You held Hong er gently, as if the mongrel child would fall to pieces in your arms

You wouldn't let anyone touch him or try to kick him out of the palace

Always quick, you would settle a cold glare on someone if they tried to pull Hong er from your arms

Taking care of Hong er was just as serious as taking care of Xie Lian to you

You spent a lot of time with His Cheng like that

So after Hua Cheng's first death he searched and searched and searched

He never found the two of you

When Hua Cheng had finally found Xie Lian he was so excited to finally see you both again!

Even though he doesn't want to reveal his secret just yet, he hopes the two of you won't find him disgusting for his actions

But. . . You weren't there.

Don't get him wrong Hua Cheng is very happy to see one of the loves of his life after searching so long but you have never left Xie Lian's side so where are you?

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng continued their relationship and their story without you

Which was unfortunate but what could they do?

They had both tried to search for you and found you no where

Things are always changing though

🦊🪷

It was just another mission, and it should've been quick and easy. Especially since Xie Lian and Hua Cheng tagged along. Hua Cheng was only here for Xie Lian though, no one else. The mission didn't go smoothly though.

Missions rarely go smoothly when you're in the dark woods, with lots of monsters, and a heavy fog covers the forest. Not smooth at all when lower gods are bickering with Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

They all got lost and wherever they ended up in these dark woods, had a block on the arrays. Xie Lian can't call for help or reach the heavens and neither can the other gods. What's worse! Powers are blocked too! It's like they've all stumbled upon an area of complete silence as if they were muted.

So even Hua Cheng is struggling a little bit right? Can't break the blocking energy source if you can't find it! Of course the gods all split up, leaving Xie Lian and Hua Cheng alone. It doesn't matter to Hua Cheng if his powers have been weakened or not he'll still do everything he can to protect Xie Lian from the monsters in the woods.

The more time Xie Lian and Hua Cheng stand around in the fog the more things they see. The deeper they go, the thicker the fog gets. And the thick the fog gets the more people they start to see the more things they start to see. It's not a good thing though, it's all illusions and they figured that out quickly when Hua Cheng swipes at a humanoid figure that looks just like Xie Lian.

Xie Lian doesn't have the time to solve the problem because him and Hua Cheng have a big possibility of being hurt right now. E-ming and rouye refuse to move. Hua Cheng will happily use his body and hands to defend Xie Lian if he has to though. Xie Lian says that's silly and chooses to run, dragging Hua Cheng along with him. The foggy ghosts only chase, and it's hard to run in such thick fog.

In fact the fog is so thick that eventually after running so long the ghosts give up on running after them. Xie Lian thought they were safe now but when he looks back Hua Cheng is gone.

Xie Lian shouts for him and tries to look around but the more he looks around the fog the more humanoid figures he sees. they're just. . . Fog. If Xie Lian could see Hua Cheng right now and he still wouldn't know if it was the real one.

The fog is dangerous, creating illusions of people Xie Lian already knows or things from his past, trying to trick him. He's only more lost and he doesn't know how to get out of this mess. It's actually very stressful, how does the fog know all these things, how is it forming the people he used to know and love?

Hua Cheng is in the same predicament. He wanders around the fog and at one point he thought he found Xie Lian again but when his hand wrapped around Xie Lian's arm, the figure turned in vapor. They're both lost. They're both being surrounded by crowds of foggy figures.

Just before the foggy figures are able to touch them the fog disperses though. A loud screech Is heard in the air, a sudden cold breeze blowing past Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, then the fog settles down. It turns out they weren't that far from each other at all and Xie Lian has never run into Hua Cheng's arms faster.

When they both see a foggy figure again they get nervous. One, because the fog has dispersed so they thought they were safe now. Two, it looks like you. Xie Lian already hates the fog he's already seen awful things but he doesn't want to see you like this. Not the fake you.

He can't help but tear up when 'you' try to urge him to come forward, but with the fog gone so is the blocked energy. Xie Lian shoots rouye out, trying to make the awful sight go away by rouye wraps around a surprisingly very sturdy wrist. You grip on rouye and pull Xie Lian forward a little, uttering a small "Dianxia, Hong er"

They know it's you, even though it seems so unbelievable. Xie Lian is literally jumping on you and knocking you to the ground. Hua Cheng manages to act a little more suave but he'd be a liar to say he isn't astonished. It's just a big pile of tears, embraces, and "I love you's".

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng waste no time bringing you home, they cling on to you desperately. Even if you just want to explore Paradise Manor it doesn't matter, both of them are at your side. They absolutely refuse to let you go. As if they're scared, if they look away you'll vanish again. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just won't let that happen! They love you very much and they've missed out many years of loving and caring for you. They plan to repay all the missed affections

____________________________________

Uhhhh here it is! I hope it's good 🤔 honestly I feel a little eh about this but let me know what y'all think 🖤I don't know if this is exactly what you were imagining anon but if it wasn't this make another submission in like deeper, exact details and I'll try again okay!

[bratphilia]

the flip side (m. schmidt x reader x w. afton)

note: remember that mike fic i wrote where i mentioned his voyeurism kink? here we go.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader x steve raglan / william afton

tags: bondage/restraints (both m/f receiving), gagging (m receiving), cuckolding/voyeurism, doggy style, spanking, dubcon, dom!william, sub!reader + mike

mike awoke to a low whistling sound. the last thing he remembers is dreaming the same dream he's been having his entire life, except this time, instead of ghost children leaving cryptic messages for him, all he could hear was your voice in the distance crying out to him for help. when his eyes opened and he gained consciousness, he found himself in a nightmare beyond anything he's ever experienced in his sleep before.

it was you, blindfolded, completely stripped nude and handcuffed, laying on your stomach on an old mattress on the floor. he seemed to be in a dark basement. before he could think he tried to call out your name and lunge himself towards you, but he was halted realizing he was gagged by a cloth and restrained around his chest and wrists. he was completely powerless.

"ah, good," a cheery, oddly familiar voice calls, "you're finally awake."

steve raglan, his fucking job counsellor, steps into his line of vision. "we almost got started without you."

mike wanted to demand what the hell was going on, but he can only punctuate it by wriggling aggressively in his restraints. steve only laughs at his helplessness.

"you just couldn't leave it alone, could you?" steve asks rhetorically, and mike had no idea what he's referring to, but he has an inkling it has to do with freddy's, because what else could this be about? "so i decided to take something from you." he gestures toward you. your eyes are squeezed shut with tears rolling down your face. mike looks at you pitifully. he hates to see you cry, especially now that he can't do anything about it.

"as you may have guessed by now," steve rambles on, starting to unbutton his shirt and strip himself from his trousers, "i'm going to use your little girlfriend, and you're going to watch. completely powerless to stop it."

you begin to sob. "no...! please, don't..."

"shut the fuck up!" steve's tone switches so easily. he walks over to you and grabs you by your cheeks and bends down to your level, whispering something mike can't hear, but you obviously don't like the sound of it as more tears run down your face.

steve turns to address mike again. "now, any preferred positions?"

mike only blinks. did he really just fucking ask him that?

"oh, wait!" steve laughs, like him being gagged and unable to answer is the funniest thing in the world.

"she sure is gorgeous. you picked a good one," steve comments, making mike's blood boil. no one should call you that, only him. "let's see... what about you, princess?"

you sniff. "just... get it over with." mike's heart breaks slightly at your lack of resistance, but he understands that steve is probably going to kill you if you don't submit to him.

steve frowns. "well that's no fun."

he walks around the mattress, observing you, while you bury your face into the cushiony surface, embarrassed. "i think i'll make this easy for you two. i'll just take you from behind, sweet girl."

"mmph!" mike cries out against the cloth. he's violently rattling against the restraints, desperate to break free.

steve just chuckles at his futile attempt. "don't hurt yourself, kid."

he kneels down on the mattress and adjusts you to his liking: bent on your stomach so your ass is in the air. steve immediately sticks his cock inside of you and doesn't even give you a grace period to adjust.

something inside mike's stomach stirs. it's a... pleasurable feeling. but one he can't relieve, so it's even more so frustrating.

you cry out loudly. grasping desperately at the fabric of the mattress but your grip keeps coming loose due to the rough physicality of which steve is handling you in.

"please!" you practically scream. "please, i can't take it!"

steve just laughs, almost evilly. "you hear that mike? hear your girl beggin' for me?"

mike lets out a grunt. he can feel his pants tightening. as much as he hates to admit it, he's getting aroused off of this.

the room is filled with the noises of skin slapping, steve's grunts and groans paired with incessant moaning. it was all overwhelming to mike. he shut his eyes, trying to block off the tirade of steve's praises — his 'good girl's, 'yes baby's, 'take it for daddy's, and so on — and tries to focus on the noises tumbling uncontrollably from your mouth. he starts bucking his hips to create friction by rubbing his dick against the fabric of his pants.

mike doesn't realize it but muffled, quiet whimpering noises are coming from him. however, steve notices.

"oh, you sick fuck. you like that, huh? like watching a stranger fucking your girlfriend, huh?" steve asks with a wide smile on his face. then he grips you by your hair so you can look at him. "look at him, sweetheart. see how pathetic he is? he's getting off to this."

fuck, your eyes. mike comes from that alone. he stops bucking his hips and just watches you listlessly, in true post-orgasm-clarity fashion. steve's grunts grow louder and more ravenous, until he eventually reaches his own orgasm. he pulls out of you and spills his seed all over your lower body. steve sits down on his knees at the edge of the mattress while you lay there, crying and shaking.

"i might have to keep you two," he says, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

[jennrypan]

..librarian x Jason Todd 👀

I'm so right. Walk with me. (First meeting!)

Imagine..being in an old library where you take care of so many books and keep trying to get people to come in, enjoy the literature but it's Gotham, everyone's far too focused on staying clear of the various villains to try and stop by to read an old book.

You contemplate closing it..maybe find a job in..who knows, a bank teller?

That idea just puts a different expression on your face and you huff quietly to yourself..you were so patient about your books and the history of this library but it was old..and no one seemed to care for libraries anymore, the building had graffiti all over the outside of it- which you tried to clean as best as you could..only for it to be dirtied once more and the windows were always getting broken by various hoodlums and one stray weapon at one point..fortunately the villains never seemed interested in some run down library so that was never an issue, but that didn't mean anyone came inside.

Until..a large figure came hurtling in through your windows..creating a huge mess of glass and wood before it landed on the floor with a thud and an annoyed grunt, you were so close to questioning the figure..a bat half way into your grasp before you noticed the bright red helmet.

"God dammit..Ivys not playin' fair."

His voice was almost..robotic? Deeper than any humans had any right to be, and you could only watch as Redhood, the Redhood stood in your library and simply dusted himself off, muttering to himself and slowly..you stepped back- you had no real negative opinion about the man but he wasn't someone you dreamed of meeting..no famous person in Gotham was anyone you wanted to meet in all honesty..they bought trouble.

Redhood tapped something on his helmet, muttering something under his breath- you briefly caught the words 'Nightwing' and 'Don't you fucking laugh' but you didn't intend to lean closer to figure out the full extent of that conversation, mostly focused on blending into the shadows of the dimly lit library..and worrying about how the Hell you're gonna fix your window this time..the window area was practically gone now cuz the guy was huge! So it might as well be a hole and you can't run a business with a hole! Everyone already thinks you're closing-

"Oh shit, I didn't know anyone was still in here."

The sudden statement caused you to near jump in the air..clutching your bat to your chest as you stared at the man who's head had turned to you..the bright white eyes of his helmet near gleaming and you wished you could see his expression to see what he was thinking.

His head tilted ever so slightly and when he did..thats when you realized you were simply staring at him unblinking like an idiot.

"Uhm-! Are you gonna pay for the window?"

Those were the first words that left your lips with your voice raising in pitch..and you immediately cringed a little, letting out a nervous cough.

There was a beat of silence before a low snort came from Redhood, his head turning towards the man sized hole he had created.

"Oh, sure."

He replied, and you were left staring at him again..blinking like an owl.

"..Sure?"

You repeated, watching as the man adjusted his jacket..black combat boots crunching over the glass shards that littered the ground, taping his helmet again..no longer paying you any mind at the moment.

"Yeah yeah..I hear ya, I'm on my way- got thrown into some.."

Redhood muttered, you could practically hear him rolling his eyes before his head tilted back..he was looking over at the shelves of books.

"Library?..huh."

You squinted a little at that. This was clearly a library! It may be run down and spooky but it had great books!

"Does that helmet make it hard to see?"

You grumbled under your breath, immediately tensing when the white eyes became trained on you..your mouth snapping shut as you gave him a nervous, thin lipped grin.

"Funny..anyways..I'll pay for the window."

Redhood reiterated, and all you could do is slowly nod and hum in acknowledgement- giving him a small thumbs up.

"Oh! Thanks? I mean you did..break it with your body, but thanks! Thats.."

There was another little chuckle from him before he climbed back through the hall not even letting you finish stumbling over your words! You clicked your tongue a little as you slowly set down your bed..walking towards the broom and dustpan to clean up the mess he left.

He's definitely not gonna pay you back..he's got other shit to be doing anyways.

Guess you got some saving to do.

[jojomiwbvb6]

The Shower Scene, Part 2

Part 1 / Part 3

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI. swearing, sexual tendencies

Almost a week went by. Working non-stop for the past 6 days, you stand in the crisp air of St. Louis, Missouri and take a long swig of your water. Load-out commences in a half hour.

The crew are dancing on their toes while you all wait in the dressing room for the rest of the Bad Omens set. You chew your lip.

In the entire time since Denver, neither you nor Noah had said a single word that anything had happened. The next day, you two glanced at each other, departed the hotel to the bus, and pretended like everything was normal.

Yet you felt the strange energy and tension he was hiding, and he hid it well. The past week, you have said nothing at all about it, yet, the memory of the way he watched you hungrily and patiently was burned into your brain.

It was enough to want to do it again. But you were afraid to do anything again.

Sometimes, during hangouts on the bus with the boys, you'd find him side-eyeing you. He would smile, as if it were toward one of Jolly's jokes, and turn away from you.

Fresh from Dethrone and the crowds energy, the guys run into the room, sweaty and whooping.

"Great job guys. Great show, as usual," you smile.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," Folio says.

"Yeah thank you, (Y/N)." Noah smiles at you.

"As always, Noah." You offer back.

His eyes flash a knowing look at you before instantly returning to normal.

You leave the room to load-out.

--

Stepping on the bus, everyone sighs and parts ways, to their respective bunks and to the TV in the living area.

It's 12 o'clock by the time we hit the road. Various members head off to bed. I stay on the couch, watching Ruffilo and Folio fight to the death on a video game that Ruffilo seems to be losing at.

"You both fuckin suck!" Noah shuffled out of the bunk area to the bathroom, jesting at his friends.

"Fuck you!"

"Go away, Sebastian!"

Noah smirks and laughs, stepping in and closing the door to it.

You giggle, but you feel yourself getting tired. You stand up. "Alright guys. I think I'm gonna head to my bunk. Night,"

"Night, (Y/N)."

"Night, dude. Oh I think you should let Davis cuddle. He seems lonely." Nicholas commented.

You laugh. "Fuck off, Ruffilo!"

Hearing the boys chuckle, you turn to head to the bunks. They resume their focus on the game in the dark.

As you begin walking towards the bunk area, the bathroom door opens. Noah stands there, looking at you. You look back at him.

"Yes, what?" You ask, your breathing picking up. He glared at you for a moment, and peaking his head out to check for his friends, he smirks at you as he sees no one looking at us.

He grabs your arm and yanks you into this tiny bus bathroom. He quietly shuts and locks the door.

In a quiet growl, Noah sinks his fingers deep into the strands of your hair. He pulls on it, earning a gasp of need from you. He gets close to your face, whispering, "What you did to me was so dirty, (Y/N). You think you can treat me like that? What a dirty fucking girl you are. Do you think I should show you who the fuck is in charge here? Should I punish you right here?"

Every growl from his mouth had you dripping, making the desire in your stomach red hot.

Noah continued on. "As punishment, princess, I'm not gonna give you what I know you fucking want."

You mewl at his words. He takes his free hand, and runs it down the line of your neck. "I bet you would be so beautiful if I fucked you," he looks into your eyes, getting close to your lips. "If you ever pull that again, I'll fuck this pretty mouth, too."

Your desire soaks your panties and you're squirming with want. "Noah, please,"

He grins at you. "You need me, baby? Huh?" You nod furiously. "Uh-huh!" You gasp.

"You want me to touch your pussy?"

"Fuck, yes," you whisper.

Both of you are trying so hard to be quiet. His hands rub at your thighs. The hand that was in your hair and moves down to grip your throat. You almost feel his breath against your lips. He was so close. He dips down and indulges in leaving hot, wet marks on your neck.

Noah's fingers are so close to right where you want them to be. He bites your neck and squeezes roughly with his hand. Your eyes roll back, and without a thought, you buck your hand up, wanting him to stop teasing.

Immediately he pulls his hands away from you and shoves you against the sink. His hands on either side of you, he pins you against the cold veneer. He tangles his hand back into your hair and gets close again.

You're so turned on, you could fuck him in this bathroom for hours.

"Too fucking bad. Bad girls don't get to feel good." He smirks, his hot breath fanning your face. He pulls on your hair and you whine. Desire fills both of your eyes.

He glances at your lips, looking plump and swollen as you gasp in his arms. He leans down, kissing you hungrily and you kiss back. He pulls away.

"Just to show you what you asked for," he finally allows one caress straight to your core. He slides his hand from front to back, giving your aching core a sharp slap for good punishment's sake, making you jump and squirm. "You just wait, princess. You'll cum for me again."

He leaves the bathroom, leaving you in a panting, wet mess against the sink.

[ddejavvu]

this might be a weird ask but what abt a short blurb where a younger reader is getting flirted with by an older man at the Hard Deck and Jake who's been trying to get with her for ages comes in to "save the day and get rid of the creep" but turns out that the older man is actually her husband and non other than ssa aaron hotchner

sorry if it's kinda weird I just thought it was funny😭😭

THIS IS SO SILLY AND FUNNY AND GOOD THANK YOU <3333

--

Jake Seresin is undeniably cocky, but he doesn't often go too far. He's snapped once or twice, but comes away from it a changed man, and stays on the lookout for any ways he can redeem himself.

Having pushed once or twice a little too hard over the counter of a bar, he's been on the prowl ever since for men who haven't picked up the same knowledge as him. The Hard Deck is a perfect place to exercise his keen observational skills, and there's an older man sitting at the counter whos been there for almost an hour.

Usually patrons mingle, but his ass has been on the stool for far too long, his eyes glued to your figure as you work. He's not exactly confused by the man's infatuation with you, as he shares the same feeling, but you keep having to cut off whatever he's saying to serve someone another drink, and Jake thinks that by now, this middle aged douche should have figured out that now isn't the time to chat.

You're clearly strained trying to keep up with both your job and conversation, and the next time someone cuts in to ask you for a beer, Jake sees your eyes pinch shut in frustration. You turn around as happy as can be, always cheery for customer service, but your shoulder sag when you complete the man's request, and the man at the counter doesn't give you two seconds to recover before he's blabbering on again.

Jake's made up his mind.

He strides to the counter in long, confident steps, leaning over opposite the man to call for your attention.

"Y/N, darlin'?"

You cast a tense glance over your shoulder, features relaxing when you see Jake, "Hang on, Lieutenant."

You seem relieved when you turn to face him, a tired smile on your face and his usual order already in your hand, "A refill?"

"That'll do," He grins, that charming expression that he's hoping is wooing the pants off of you, "Hey, honey," He leans in slightly, lowering his voice so that the man subtly observing you two from behind doesn't hear him, "That guy talkin' your ear off?"

A sly grin flits over your face, "It's okay, Hangman. I'll let him."

"You don't have to." Jake presses, eyes clouded with worry, 'If you're trying to make a tip off of him or something, I'm sure it's not worth hearing about what bars were like back in his day. Hell, I'll pay you to let me chuck him out."

"I promise you!" You laugh, "I'm okay, Jake. Thank you for worrying about me."

"M'always gonna," He admits, face gently curved in a frown as you lean back, no longer whispering in hushed tones, "Just let me know if you need me, darlin'."

"Will do," You grin, "But Jake? Tone down the pet names around my husband, would you? I don't want him getting jealous."

Jake blinks.

Jake blinks again.

Then casts his gaze over your shoulder at the older man, who's sitting there nursing his drink with a poorly concealed smirk, his eyes downcast to avoid Jake's.

"That guy's your husband?" Jake verifies, heat at his cheeks and stomach at his feet, "You're married?"

"I don't wear my ring 'cause it gets nasty in the dishwater," You lament, "'Thought you knew, Jake."

"I did not know." Jake nods slowly, gnawing at the inside of his cheek, "Well- uh, alrighty then. Get back to your little chit-chat."

"Thank you for the offer," You call after him as he pushes off of the counter, even if your words fall on deaf, mortified ears, "I really appreciate it!"

"Sorry, Aaron," You grin bashfully at your husband, turning back to take his large hands into yours, "He's like that with everyone. Real sweet guy, just a little forward. He thought you were bothering me."

"It's okay," Aaron hums, leaning across the bar to kiss you, something you normally wouldn't allow during your shift.

"I liked it more than I thought I would," Aaron muses, and you ghost your thumb over the wedding band on his ring finger, "Hearing you tell him I was your husband."

"I don't think he liked it," You nearly cringe at the memory, "Hopefully things aren't awkward."

"Mm, they might be." Aaron chuckles, locking eyes with a dark-haired woman who looks a little bit like she might want to kill him, "I think he told his friends."

[mikobeautifulheart]

JJK MEN Pretending to be your boyfriend/saving you from creeps. PART 3

INCLUDING: Nanami and Toji

TW: Creeps that touch you. but donn' worry they don't get that far. Also like cursing once.

reblogs welcomedddddd

~Nanami~

You and Nanami worked at the same company in the same department under the same boss. One day you were left at the office finishing up a few more documents.

Nanami stood up from his desk.

"I'm going to get some documents, do you need any?"

"Oh uh, no, thank you though." You said. You knew Nanami was a hard and efficient worker but his nature was serious. However it seemed that you had made some sort of...connection? It was like a friendship but not exactly. It wasn't romantic either but it was close.

You finished one of the documents you had to do before going to the printer to pick up the copy before walking over to your bosses office to leave it on his desk.

"Oh helllloooo" your boss said as soon as you waled through the door.

You thought he was acting strange until you spotted the empty bottle of whiskey on his desk.

"Here are the documents you wanted" you said before placing them on his desk.

"I wouldn't say wanted. Hey how would you like a bonus?" he asked you.

You knew what he was implying, but you wouldn't do that for a few extra dollars or with your boss, you wouldn't even consider having sex for money regardless.

"No thank you- i'll be taking my leave now." you said, turning to walk out the door.

But your boss was one step ahead and moved fast enough to close the door before you could escape.

"Please open the door" you sighed in frustration\

"Now don't be so hasty now you can leave just after you do a little task for me-"

"Don't touch me" you said as he grabbed your wrist pulling you toward his desk.

"NO" you screamed in desperation.

Suddenly the door burst open. There he was, Nanami, there in the door way walking toward you freeing your hand from your drunk boss.

"Don't ever touch my girlfriend again." He said looking at your boss sending him furious death glares.

"Are you okay" he asked you.

You nodded looking up at him in relief.

He walked you out of the office and helped you into his car.

"I'll be right back, I need to get my bag."

Lets just say nobody ever saw your boss again.

♧Toji♧ 

You just quit being a sorcerer to escape from the miserable world of curses and murder. But you couldn't live off doing nothing, so why not take up a few odd jobs in your profession. You hated killing, people and curses so you only took up specific jobs, mainly spying and getting intel for bounty hunters and other organisations. You didn't mind your job but you always carried a small gun with you because your job was still dangerous, just incase you needed to fend for your life.

Tonight one of your long time clients, Toji, requested a meeting to arrange your next job. The meeting was casual at a bar where you two sat at the end of the counter on stools casually talking about the mission and requirements. While you were talking a loud drunk guy was behind you babbling on about your body. It was disgusting but you figured when the meeting was over you'd just leave and it would end there.

Your phone on the counter buzzed and you looked down to see a wealthy clients name. Toji looked to.

"Eh its okay, go answer it" he said while the bar tender put another drink infront of him.

You nodded and walked outside quickly before picking up.

Near the end of your call you heard the bar door open behind you and close.

"Understood, I can get the job done in 2 days. Yes. Yes. I'll get back to you when the job is done."

When you hung up you felt an unwelcomed hand squeeze your butt. You jumped with a squeak before tuning around to see the drunk guy who was talking about you before.

"What do you think your doing?" You said hands on your hips in anger.

"Comon' babyyyyy you should come home with me-" he said clearly drunk but still sober enough to pull out a gun on you.

You put your hands up slightly then slowly moved them down.

"Can we just talk about this, put the gun down and we can figure something out" your left hand slid down your leg to reach for the gun you had.

"Or you could just come with me and nobody gets hurt..." the man said, he pointed the gun upward and sneezed sending one bullet flying through the air. He points the gun back at you before he closes one of his eyes to aim at you.

A gun shot rang through the air and you squeezed your eyes closed bracing for the pain but instead his body hit the ground.

"No need to get your hands dirty doll" Toji said putting his gun down looking at you.

"I think..." you said

"HEY THAT BITCH SHOT HIM" A man yelled outside the bar looking at the man on the ground bleeding out.

"OH YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS" He yelled pointing his finger at you.

"That bitch is my girlfriend and I shot that damn pervert you idiot." Toji said staring at the man.

"And if you touch her, I wont be so forgiving" he said while making a gun sign with his hands and pretending to aim at the mans head.

"Bang." He said mockingly while laughing.

"Come on lemme' drive you home" He said putting his arm around your shoulder walking you to his car.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: I'm making the next part with Sukuna and Choso. That's probably all I will write for this series unless you guys have any one else you want me to write it for. have a nice whenever <3