#PLEASE DON'T SNAP HER IN TWO LMAO

[serpentide]

° • * ˚ ⁀ ➷ @pseudodead , the serpent and the wings of night : " don't look away. " (ghost)

　𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃��𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 ▬▬ even the most docile of snakes may flaunt the sharpness of its fangs when threatened by a predator much bigger than him. the ophidian vixen stands on uncertain ground, her limited knowledge of the world paints her current circumstances in the monochromatic hues of ignorance ; his uniform should at least look familiar, but it matters not how much she observes even the smallest detail sewn against battle - worn fabric, his presence is reminiscent of neither nightmares nor dreams. and thus her hold around her sickle tightens, its sharp edge gleams in the barely illuminated alleyway behind the circus tent whilst the dagger at the end of its chain dangles idly beside her ; a voice within the depth of a fragmented psyche warns her against this course of action, for what could a mere jester's scythe do against fire weapons ? it may be the voice of her most bestial instincts, or mayhap it is one of the gods that she used to pray to, but her stance does not falter [ ... ] it would be better to die, than to be put inside of a cage yet again.

❝ if you're trying to take me home, it won't end well. ❞ and even whilst her lips part and she speaks in silver - belled song, all her mind can currently focus 'pon is the reason that lays at the basis of his presence here. has he come here for the ambrosia, to either claim it for himself or to stop her from spreading happiness ? has he come here because he wishes to own the girl who can speak with snakes, as many before him have dreamt of ? down her body, a muscle stiffens. in the dead of the night, a being even darker than the star - less cerulean moves: her python, now enlarged to its greatest size, has begun to crawl towards them, circling around and tasting the air with the swift flicks of a forked tongue ; it does not attack the mysterious man, not yet at least. emboldened by the presence of her companion, serpent breaks the quietude between them once more. ❝ you don't look tasty ... but i'm sure that my lovely friend won't mind it too much, meat is meat, after all. ❞

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)

(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)

(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )

You made it to heaven, lucky you.

Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,

all your sacrifices.

You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.

You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.

You wonder if it is in hell too.

'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.

You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.

Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.

What-- no wait-

You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.

Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.

Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?

_____ Altruist is who you a---

"HELLO??"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.

You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.

How peculiar.

Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.

"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.

"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"

She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"

Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.

"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.

The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.

"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"

And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.

"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.

"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..

Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.

"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.

Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.

The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.

The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.

Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.

"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.

"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.

"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.

The man that brought you up here in the first place.

The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.

"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"

The voice, the radio static over it, his name.

It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.

Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.

For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.

You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.

Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.

You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.

The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.

Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.

You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.

With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.

Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.

The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.

Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.

Oh-- wait.

That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.

It was you.

His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.

For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.

His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.

He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.

He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.

"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.

Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.

"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.

Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.

Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."

Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.

And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.

He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.

Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.

Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.

You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.

You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.

Your father wanted to talk to you.

Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.

His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.

"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.

The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.

He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."

Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.

You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.

"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.

"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."

Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.

Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.

With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.

(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART THREE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Fun fact... The reason I titled this as two sides of the same coin as I was originally planning on making the reader being Azrael's wife and would be [y/n] Eveningstar as Azrael's last name would be Eveningstar 🧍but decided not to lmao.

PART TWO | PART FOUR | NAVIGATION

Charlie stood nervously at the podium, angels above her already judging her. Her eyes noticed the door to the courtroom opens, a familiar angel she met awhile ago, an angel that looked like her father. Xavier was it? If she remembered correctly. She watched as the boy flew up and took his position on the other side of Sera, Emily on the other side of the woman, the older woman in between the two young seraphims.

Charlie could feel the [e/c] orbs staring at her as the boy looked down on her (literally as he was sitting above her).

The meeting began.

Charlie was really hoping to win these angels over, hopefully her brother could help.

But she was slowly getting more and more nervous as the boy looked like he was getting bored from this meeting, the meeting clearly didn't meet his expectations.

Xavier just looked down, eyes half-lidded as he looked at the girl with boredom. All he could see is a plan without enough foundation to work, baseless claims that the hotel will work.

What annoys him is that this is the very same ambition his father proposed years ago. He wasn't there during the meeting but his mother told him about it.

The idea is ridiculous. Sinners were given a chance to live an honest and good life but decided to mess it up and now they're looking for a way to redeem themselves?

Xavier was close to falling asleep in the middle of it, suddenly something caught his interest. Emily, Charlotte, and Sera were arguing but Lute and Adam suddenly butted into the conversation and managed to slip up and revealed a secret.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month... gotta say I can't wait to... Come down and exterminate you.” Adam says mockingly along with Lute.

Xavier's eyes widened, jaw dropping. Looking around to see if he heard it right and base on the others reaction, he heard it right.

The rest of the meeting went by a blur, another secret was revealed and Vaggie, Charlotte's lover was a former exorcist and is a fallen angel.

Frankly, he doesn't care about that. Xavier can only cover his mouth in shock, still in disbelief that these killings are happening without the others knowing.

Heaven is a lie.

Charlie looked at her supposed brother, a slight surprised look on his face. Clearly in disbelief. She couldn't tell if he's mad or not.

Oh, he's mad alright. Mad that a lie this big has been hidden away.

Beyond furious, Xavier glared at Sera. Charlotte and her lover were teleported back to hell after a snap of Adam's fingers.

Killing of souls, damned or not they have no reason for doing this.

Xavier decided to attend the court meeting, curious what fantastic or foolish ideas his half sister had to show them. He didn't expect that this meeting ended up revealing a very heavy secret.

Currently he is comforting Emily as the girl glares at Sera, “Please, if you start to question... You could end up like Lucifer... Fallen.” Sera says, her voice trembling slightly.

Xavier's glare hardened when the older woman mentioned a certain man he hated, Xavier just glared at Sera as the woman gave Emily a kiss on her forehead, he doesn't like how the high Seraphim is hiding a secret this big.

“Xavier.” Sera calls out to him sternly, the boy just gave the woman a raised eyebrow as his face returns to being emotionless. Sera felt chills running down her spine, Lucifer's face is unfortunately plastered on this boy's face, the fallen angel was his father after all.

“I hope you don't tell anyone about this. Especially your mother.” She pleaded and Xavier scoffs, a slight mischievous smile on his face, “Or what? Gonna cast me out to like what you did with my birth father?” he asked sarcastically, Sera's eye twitched.

“Of course, not. That isn't an enough reason to cast you out. Just... Please don't tell her.” the woman explained and Xavier scoffs.

“I love my mother and I can't bear to lie to her face, she already had enough of that. Just expect that this will reach the seven's soon.” He explained before eventually flying down and leaving the courtroom, not giving the woman a chance to speak.

Sera wanted to reach out and stop the boy but he was already gone, lowering her hand slowly. Sighing. He really is Lucifer's son, stubborn.

After all, the apple doesn't really fall far from the tree.

They're just lucky that [y/n] was able to raise the boy properly and was able to inherit most of his mom's personality. The looks however, are unfortunately from his dad.

Sera sighs again. Mentally preparing about the possibilities of what will happen if the seven virtues' know about this.

Charlie's mind was a mess after that meeting, Vaggie gave her some time and space to process everything of what happened.

She can't believe the love of her life is a fallen angel and worse, an ex exorcist! She hid something this big from her! And on top of that, she has a half older brother in heaven?!

Charlie groans, going underneath the covers as she lies on the bed.

She knows the older boy didn't lie as he literally had her father's face except for the eyes and height but everything else was an exact replica. Charlie can't help but be jealous, she could tell how much better the boy was compared to her, the boy carried an air of authority around him.

She feels guilty, she's not stupid. Her dad had that boy while he was in heaven and obviously with someone else, another angel.

Charlie wonders what kind of life her half brother is living up there?

What she does know is that the boy harbors some kind of hatred for her and her family. The boy didn't fully express it but Charlie could feel it, the bubbling rage beneath his exterior when he saw her.

She'll have to ask her dad about this later, once she's mentally okay.

Xavier returned back home, the mansion empty as his mother is away, and they don't have any servants as they prefer a quiet life.

Walking to the living room, his eyes gazed at the large portrait that was displayed on the wall of the living room—a portrait of him and his mom. Him standing at her side while she sat on a regal chair, both of them matching clothes—their heaven uniforms.

His eyes softened, he felt exhausted. Training with his uncle, meeting his half sister, and a secret Sera hid was revealed.

He can't wait for her to come back home, he needed to tell her all about this.

TAGLIST:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen

[niefics]

CRAWLING BACK 2 U — P.JS X FEM!READER

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — SYNOPSIS : Reader & jay loose contact after a messy argument about a girl, jay comes crawling back wanting to make her feel good one last time.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — WARNINGS : toxic (?), Fem!reader, cussing, smut with a small plot, pussy eating, dumbification ? NOT PROOF READ!!! Oh and no protection (please wear it), breading kink, slut shaming (?), pet names, slight choking, fingering, cum eating??,, wc ; 2.5k, felt extra nasty ;)))

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — A/N : long time no see LOLLLL, I just ain’t been having inspo lmao .. also why does nb fw jay fics fr </33, reblogs are much preciated. I hope you like this fic!

Sighing harshly you broke the silence that was in jays apartment. "So who is she ?" You asked crossing your arms looking at him. He looked at you, his eyebrows scrunching. "The fuck does it matter, we aren't dating." Your head snapped back at the sudden words. You knew he wasn't yours, you two never put a label on it but it was blatantly obvious what this relationship was. Friends with benefits that was obviously becoming more.

"It fucking matters because you are fucking me, and you always somehow forget to bring condoms so jay it does fucking matter!" You spoke, you've never snapped at jay but at this moment it was serious. Jay sighed, pinching nose bridge as he said your name. "Look, we are only fuck, okay? Only time you're over is to fuck got it ? We were never more." Jay spoke, his tone cold. The fact that he said you two were never more was irritating, assuming the nights you spent with each other just cuddling and acting lovey dovey was nothing more to him was funny, knowing he was the one who started it all. "So those night we laid up under eachother doing nothing but cuddling was nothing more right? Jay I know we aren't a thing I'm not dumb, but it feels like your fucking playing in my face and I don't like that. Do you want her cause she can have you. You were nothing more then dick to me anyways. You could barely hit the spots that made come anyways." You spoke coldly, grabbing your bag and walking to his front door slipping your shoes on and walking out.

One thing you didn't like was being played, especially by someone you know you can do better with. Months went by with no more interaction you didn't care more worried about yourself. There were night where you did miss jay but at that moment you could care less.

As the rain started to get heavy outside your apartment late at night, you were settled into your bed comfortably, half asleep as your tv blasted in the background for extra noise as you slept cuddled up to your pillow. And just as you were about to hit the deepest part of your sleep cycle you heard a continuous knock from your front door sighing, you got up slip on your house shoes and walking to go look through the peephole. You were surprised  to see the familiar figure of jay, someone you've cut off long ago. You tiredly unlocked the door to see him drenched. "Listen.." you tiredly rolled your eyes. "What are you here for ?" You questioned tiredly. "You.." he spoke, you laughed softly at his nonsense. "You had me once why would I let you have me again?"

He sighed, saying your name softly. "Cmon, it was a stupid argument." You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "You wouldn't answer the question of the bitch you could've been talking to, jay im not gonna let sleep with just anyone whenever you're sleeping with me! You hardly use condoms so why the fuck would I?" You spoke scrunching you eyebrows. "I dropped contact with her, I don't have her number, she's a nobody to me now .. just please let me, make up to you." He spoke stepping closer to you.

And he you were, on your bed, half necked, your shorts you were sleeping was tossed around your room somewhere while your panties were hanging on to your leg as jay sat head deep into your legs, you legs over his shoulders as his hands kept you legs from closing on his as he sucked your clit, humming as he sucked it, the vibrations causing you to moan as your toes would curl. As little gasps and whines came out your mouth, you forgot how good he felt and why you liked jay so much. No matter how bad he would treat you would stay and when you finally left him alone you really couldn't figure out why and now you do remember, it was how good he'd pleasure you, how good he'd make you come and wouldn't stop till he was done. And when he finished he would cuddle you, cradle you, caress the skin he bruised. That's why you liked him so much, no one has ever made you feel this good.

You whined saying his name with your eyes closed, you grabbed onto your nipples giving yourself extra pleasure as he kept going. He stopped sucking your swollen puffy clit to go lower sticking his tongue out to lick your wet slit, causing to gasp making your legs open wider wanting all of him, you missed how good is tongue felt on you pussy, you missed how filling his fingers alone felt. You couldn't make yourself feel as good as Jay could. No orgasm felt as good as the one Jay gave you and you hated that, now matter if you thought about sleeping with another man, it wouldn't feel ass good as it did with jay. The after care wouldn't feel as good as with jay, it was as of tho jay ruined it all for you abs you hated it.

But here you are, a moaning, whining mess as jay licked up your slick prepping to fuck you senseless, he pulled his face away from you cunt rubbing his middle finger into your slick spitting into it giving more slick to work with as he rubbing his finger into your pussy before shoving his finger causing you to gasp at the feeling of his cold digit being inside you, he wasted no time moving it inside and out of you watching you to see how you were feeling, a shit eating grin never failed to meet your gaze as he moved his finger faster with no warning you eyebrows knitted together you tried to keep eye contact your mouth agape before you head fell back and you finally spoke. "Fuck!" You dragged your word out as you found your hand rubbing your clit trying to clinch on his finger. He chuckled.

"Trying to come already baby? Haven't even put the second one in yet. You've missed my fingers this much ?" He spoke shaking his head taking his eyes off your face to you cunt who was damn sure ready for a second finger, he added it as you quickly shut your legs.. well tried to at least. "F .. uh .. ck!" You spoke trying to let it out in a small cry coming out instead. He chucked diving back into your cunt, going back to kissing and sucking on you clit as he fucked his fingers into you, pumping them hitting that spot that made you feel funny. "Yes, jay please don't stop." You whined putting your hand in his hair pulling it, he groaned causing vibrations making you clinch on his fingers as he kept pressing on your good spot. You already felt like the knot in your stomach was about to pop.

"Shit shit shit, jay! Please .. can I come." He pulled off you letting his finger slip out rubbing you clit as he stood up. He shook his head no, humming in a disapproval. "Not right now." He spoke kissing your lips, your slick on his lips and chin, he hummed into the kiss his pants strangling his hardened dick, it twitching in his sweats. He pulled back as he untied it. "Fuck I don't have a condom." You rolled your eyes. "You never have one." He chuckled pulling his pants down, including his underwear his dick springing out with precum leaking. "I'm starting to think you like the risk of cumming in me." He pulled in to kiss you his hand finding it way on your neck. "And you like it, you clench harder Everytime I think about trying to baby trap you." You both knew it was just the feeling of good sex playing a roll in his "threats." You knew jay had a breading kink, but he never dared to fill you up, even with as much begging as you did it was always no.

"You gonna fill me up tonight, make our last time a good one ? Leave me all messy?" He grabbed you by your neck kissing you harder you knew exactly what to do to turn him on, no matter how long it's been. "Turn around, ass up." He pulled back to watch you do so, you tried to take your oversized shirt on. "No, keep it on, I want to have something to pull on." You pouted. "But you have my hair?" He chuckled shaking his head. "Who said I can't have options?" He spoke watching you turn over ass up he walked closer to the bed pulling you to the edge, he put his fingers back into you as you grabbed his dick at stroking it as he pumped his fingers into you making you moan again. You your hand back towards your face into your mouth, spitting into your hand and pulling it back to his hardened member stroking it making him moan at the feeling of the mixture of spit and precum together. "Enough, move you hand." He spoke as you let go and he positioned himself slowing pushing himself in.

A gasp came out your mouth, you nearly forgot how painfully big his dick was, especially when he decided not go missionary, whining at the pain. "Ahh take it, I know you can ?" He spoke as you ran a little from it pushing your ass back down a little as he went down more and more finally hitting the base he gave you time to breath and get used to it. He was a monster after all.

He pulled back, as he started thrusting into you, your eyebrows knitted together as you let him fuck himself into you you lip bitten as you took it, getting used to his dick again you started to moan more freely, he grabbed your shirt, pulling on it as he started pounding into you as you moaned and whined his name like he liked it. "Wait- fuck! Y/n is this my shirt?" He spoke pounding into you, it was so dumb of  him to even try to keep a conversation with you especially in this position, you can never keep up a conversation in the position, he just felt so much deeper when your ass was up like this, you came the most in the position, made you biggest messes in the position. You hummed. "You know I .. fucking hate you not using your words!" He spoke pounding harder. You tried to speak. "Yes! I kept it- fuck! Fells s'good." You moaned. "Your dumb for my dick aren't you? Haven't even been long and here you are all whiny and creamy already on my dick." He groaned.

"And I bet you'd love to feel me feel you up to the brim too." He spoke going faster, your mouth fell agape as you felt so good. "Fuck yes!" You moaned. "So dumb for my cock huh baby? My little cock slut, not even your own fingers can make you feel this good huh?" You clenched on his dick you felt so close yet so far. "Let me here you say it?" He spoke slapping your ass. "Ah! Fuck.. you can only make feel this good jay!" He chuckled pulling on you hair and bring you closer. "Mhm, that's right my dumb slut, nobody can make you feel as good as jay can." His hand snaked around your neck softly squeezing your neck you felt yourself go dumb, you knew you were about to come whining.

"Please please please." You repeated in a whisper. "Please what?" He asked groaning in your ear. "Please let me come." Jay twitched hearing that, kissing your jaw as he felt you clench again. "I'm so, so close please!" He liked when you begged, he liked to see you a mess in general he couldn't help that. "Come baby, make a mess on my dick." He spoke letting you fall back on your knees slapping your ass as he kept going as just like that you whined cleaning on jay so hard he could've popped out. "Fuck." Jay spoke as your orgasm hit you, you started shivering as he kept going, jay kept thrusting, a ring forming around his dick he began to get sloppy, he went down toward you ear once you slightly calmed down from your orgasm. "Gonna let me fill you up? One good time." You nodded frantically, shaking still "god yes!" He chuckled as he kept going as you started moving your hips too.

"Flip over I need to see your face." And you did so, he took your legs and put one over his shoulder as the other was in his hand as he kept going. You rested your body on your elbows as you let him fuck you. You watched him go in and out of you as you met his eyes, your head falling back as you felt like you could come again just by his gaze you never wanted this to end. His thrust for so sloppy it’s was obvious he was about to come, slammed into you a few times as you came again, he did so groaning so loud, going faster. “Fuck yesss” he hummed as a mixture of both of your comes mixed together. “If you were my girlfriend I swear to god I would do this to you every night.” You were to high to even care about the stupid shit he just said. Feeling him pull out.

He fell back to his knees, as he starting to eating you out, pulling you back towards him as you whined as you made you feel good all over again, slurping up at your juices his nose hit your sensitive clit you cried out, you hand found a way to his messy hair again your thighs were definitely full at this point, you knew you were gonna have another orgasm, as he fucked his tongue into you, you cried. You were sure you loved him.

You vision became blurry as you trembled as your last and final orgasm hit. “God!” You moaned, legs shaky and your grasp on his head tighter then ever. He slurped it up one last time getting after and kissing you, you tired body wrapped your arms around him pulling him in as you made out. The taste of both of you in his and your mouth.

He cleaned you two up, as you sat in a cleaned bed, you leg wrapped over his legs as your arm was over his chest as you sat in silence as he caressed your leg. Nights like this is what you cherished, you did want to do it. But you knew it was needed.. this was the last time you saw him for sure. Or at least that’s what you wanted you woke up to him coming back with a plan B and breakfast giving you a soft kiss. And once again you crawled back to him.

[guiltyasdave]

a long time coming

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You were supposed to go to a concert with your best friend. You end up going with her dad instead.

word count: ~1.1k

tags/warnings: best friend's dad!Dave, fluff, allusions to smut, huge age gap, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, please be warned: Dave has inappropriate (though reciprocated) thoughts about his daughter's best friend - if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read

a/n: daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality and i were freaking out about those new photos of pedro, and because daphne apparently wants me dead, she said that it's giving bfd!dave who's at a concert with you and also provided me with a snippet that still has me in a chokehold and that's part of this story now. i am already experiencing heavy brainrot because i'm going to the eras tour in three (3) days and this was the final nail in my coffin tbh. i should be working on my dress, but instead i did this. the most self indulgent shit i've ever written lmao, please enjoy <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my whole masterlist here :)

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

“Please, daddy? Please?” 

Dave sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Molly’s hoarse voice keeps pleading with him before it dissolves into a fit of coughs. 

With a groan, she lets her head fall against the pillows, wide eyes still trained on him. 

“No one else wants to go, and I can’t let her go alone, I’d feel terrible. Please?” 

She pouts at him, knowing fully well that her father doesn’t deny her anything when she looks at him like this. 

“Fine. If you’re sure that she’s okay with it?” 

“She is! I already asked her.”

Dave cocks a brow at his daughter, earning himself an exhausted but triumphant grin. 

“Don’t look at me like that. It will be fun!”

Admittedly, Dave really has much more fun than he expected when his daughter all but begged him to accompany her best friend to the concert that she wanted to go to herself before she got sick. 

He knows most of the songs, has been witness to you and Molly singing along to the music while dancing through his kitchen often enough. It’s not bad music by any means, and the show is nothing short of spectacular. 

It’s not the reason he’s enjoying himself so much though. He’s barely watching the show, eyes only occasionally flicking towards the stage. 

His gaze is fixed on you, has been since before the show even started. Watching you interact with other fans, beaming smiles and giggles, eagerly exchanging bracelets, excitedly cooing at the especially pretty ones. 

Meeting your eyes when you turned to him, not able to suppress his own smile at the sparkle in them. Suppressing the flicker of something in his chest when your fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging it closer to put a few bracelets on him as well. You don’t seem to notice the faint blush that’s rising up in his cheeks at the unexpected touch. 

He’s watching you bouncing on your feet seconds before the show starts, snaps a few photos of the pure joy on your face without you noticing. Just to send them to you later, having enough experience from being the father of two daughters to know how much you’ll love them. After that, he’ll delete them from his own phone. Of course he will. 

He’s watching you dance, your body moving to the beat of the music, your lips forming every word. Your silhouette shimmering with the lights reflecting off your dress. It’s mesmerizing. You dance with the girls beside you sometimes, shouting lyrics at each other. Other times, you turn to him. He doesn’t protest when you take his hands, starts moving with you without a second thought, starts singing the words that he knows along with you. You’re laughing, your eyes shining with pure happiness. It’s intoxicating, and he wants more, wants all of it, wants to be part of that happiness. He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled this wide, the last time his body felt this light. 

It takes a long time, longer than it should, until he remembers why this is bad. Until the weight comes crashing back into him. Until he remembers that he shouldn’t feel like this with you. 

You’re so much younger than him. His daughter’s friend. His daughter who asked him to come here with you, because she trusted that you’d be safe with him. 

Your brow furrows when you catch his eye and notice the change in his expression. No. He wants you to enjoy yourself, doesn’t want to be the reason for any kind of worry for you right now. He allows himself to drink in your energy right now, to let a smile grow on his face again. 

There’s no harm in indulging just for one night. Just a little bit. No one has to know. Least of all you. 

So he keeps singing with you, keeps letting you move with him. Keeps watching. 

It’s easy, being with you, talking to you. Effortless in a way that he’s not used to. 

It’s just because you’re at his house more often than not, going wherever Molly goes. It has to be. 

But it’s different, your giggles ringing out in the confines of his car, not mixed with his daughter’s, the sound that he knows. And he’s the one who’s elicited those laughs from you. 

"Explain it again, please. You’ve glued every single of these stones onto your dress?" He laughs and gives you another once over, glad he can disguise his inappropriate ogling with an appreciating glance. Act like he’s studying the intricate, shimmering patterns on the fabric. Not the way your tits are straining against the low cut over your chest. Not the way the skirt has ridden up your thighs, exposing a new inch of bare skin. "Great job, sweetheart. You look good. The dress looks good, too." 

He wonders how the dress would look bunched up around your waist. Or on the floor of your apartment. If your skin is as soft as it looks in the dim shine of the red light he’s stopped at. How it would taste under his tongue. The sweet sounds you would make when his teeth dig into you. 

You breathe a thank you and bite your lip at the compliment, and his cock twitches with interest. Wrong, wrong, so wrong.

He has to be imagining the way that you keep glancing his way, stealing looks when you think that he doesn’t notice. Wishful thinking on his part. 

He pulls up in front of your apartment building, killing the engine and turning towards you. You’re already facing him, more shy than you’ve looked all evening. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you say softly, lips pulling up into another smile. “I’ve had a great time. I— I hope you did too.” 

His hand lands on your thigh before he can actively think about it. A soft gasp escapes you, but you make no move to back away from his touch. 

“Trust me, I did.” 

He doesn’t intend for it to come out as low and breathy as it does. Teeth dig into your lips once more. Your contemplative gaze burns into him. 

You inch closer, close enough that he can feel your breath against his face. 

Wrong. He swallows thickly, forces his grip off of you. You blink, eyes growing wider, the growing tension’s fog lifting from you. Clearing your throat, you sit up straighter. 

“Good night, sweetheart.” 

He needs you to leave this car. Right now. 

You nod, shakily bidding him a good night as well. 

He watches your retreating silhouette, finally able to exhale deeply when you enter your building. 

He’s fucked.

comments and reblogs are love and make my day every single time <3

[t0yac1d]

IF YOU'RE STILL WRITING FOR JJ MAYBANK COULD I REQUEST LIKE.. A CAMPING SMUT? LIKE OKAY, THE POGUES WENT ON A CAMPING TRIP AND AFTER EVERYONE STARTED TO GO INTO THEIR TENTS THE READER AND JJ ARE TRYING TO STAY QUIET AS THEY YK.. 🤭 AND SHE CAN'T SO HE COVERS HER MOUTH BUT THEN HE'S JS LIKE "Fuck it" BC HE CAN'T STAY QUIET EITHER SO THEY JS GO AT IT??

OHMAMI (JJ Maybank x F!Reader)

Warnings: Smut (duh lmao), p in v, choking, praise

Notes: I'll forever write for our man don't worry about the "ifs" baby

Word Count: 702

It was a quiet night, the only noises that were heard were the sounds of wildlife, the water, and the pouge's heavy and light snores. You guys went swimming, hiked, played volleyball and many other games. Everyone was exhausted after the very active day. Everyone except you and JJ.

You guys have been riled up and horny for hours, just wanting some alone time even just enough for a quickie but how could you get alone time when the whole group just stuck together for the whole day.

But, at last, you guys got your time alone, sadly it's in your shared tent...right next to the group...

On top of the noise of wild life, water and the snores, your soft whines and whimpers were filling the air. You knew you had to be quiet, you wouldn't want to get caught. But it was so hard to when he was hitting every spot that made you want to scream his name until you lose your voice.

But you can't, you can't risk getting caught because of how embarrassing it'll be.

You guys lied on your sides, JJ's hips snapped against your ass his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close against his chest. Your nails dug into his thighs, leaving crescent shapes in the skin. You were trying your hardest to keep quiet, or at least keep the noise low, very low. But it was sooooo hard to.

"Baby you gotta be quiet..do you wanna wake them up?" he asked, rubbing circles on your clit. You shook your head moaning, JJ moved a hand up to your mouth, covering it and muffling your moans. His hips never stopped, instead his pace grew.

Your moans, whimpers and whines were low, quiet- or as quiet as you could keep them.

You felt like you were going to explode, you felt the need to be loud, to let everyone know that JJ was fucking you good. You continued to clench around him, you whimpered against his hand.

"You feel s'good fuck you're sucking me in..fuck!"

You moved his hand from your mouth, "Gotta be quiet r-remember.."

He pulled out and put you on your back, "Yeah..I remember.." he mumbled, lining himself up and pushing himself in with one thrust almost causing you to scream out his name. Your hand flew up to your mouth when he pounded into you.

"Move your hand, I wanna hear you."

"T-They're gonna hear though.." you whined, back arching and legs wrapping around the blonde's waist. "So? Let them, I don't care anymore, please? Please let me hear you." he pleaded.

Hesitantly, you moved your hand from your mouth. JJ smiled and began rubbing on your clit, enticing moans from you.

His hand wrapped around your throat, "Good girl, let them hear these pretty moans."

He stared down at you, wondering why he even told you to keep quiet in the first place. He's such an idiot sometimes.

He felt his cock twitch and his core tighten. Moving his hand from your throat to the empty space next to your head he leaned down. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close. He kissed, bit and sucked your neck, leaving dark marks on your soft, beautiful skin.

"I'm gonna cum..fuck fuck fuck!" you babbled, tugging on your boyfriend's hair. "I know, baby, I know. Go ahead and cum for me, princess."

Your legs tightened around him as you came. It wasn't long until he came too, gripping your hip and thigh, painting your walls with his cum.

You panted and sighed, feeling him pull out. He leaned back and watched his cum ooze out of your hole. "Weirdo.." you quietly chuckled, closing your legs.

JJ lied on top of you, pulling you close as you two fell asleep.

The next morning you guys got dressed and stepped out the tent. The group sat around the twinkie and ate some breakfast, conversing with one another. "You'd think you guys would keep it down considering we're outside." John B. said. "Shut up man, you know you guys liked it." JJ cackled.

One thing JJ learned is that he's bit of a hypocrite.

[nvrswrld]

hi there! can you please write akito with a reader that has a crush & its suuuuuuper obvious about it, so he can't help but tease reader and get them super flustered? thank you!

Rabbit Hole — Akito Shinonome

"Gonna be a smitten mitten till the day you die?"

— in which An gets you to confess to Akito.

akito shinonome x fem!reader

tags: fluff, characters might be a little ooc, probably shit lmao i wrote this at one in the morning, cut me some slack

note: i literally squealed when i read this request i love akito sm

You've been in school for nine years, yet you still struggle with paying attention in class. It wasn't just the teachers who had poor teaching tactics, which didn't help you activate your brain for the remainder of the day, but it was also the lack of sleep you got each night. You spent more time scrolling on social media than you did working on your homework. It was the poor attention span that troubled you. It was your fault, though. You knew you should've been responsible enough to better yourself in these situations. You were getting to that age, anyway. Soon, you would be independent and no longer under the wing of safety connected to your parents.

But until then, you would continue to feed off your friends.

It helped you get things done faster, so it couldn't have been that bad. You weren't entirely dependent on them, but only just a little. Both An and Mizuki were in the same class as you, so that gave you even more of a reason to slack off whenever they attended. They didn't really mind, either. It just gave you three another reason to hang out after school, therefore it was more of a blessing than a curse. Sitting in the corner booth of Weekend Garage, sipping on piping hot coffee, chowing down on sweet treats, and praying to whatever god up there that one of them had the answers to the homework. It was the highlight of your year.

This afternoon was the same as any other. You rested your chin against the table, tapping the end of your pen against your workbook and staring off into space while An yapped Mizuki's ear off about whatever the hell they were talking about. Another part of your guys' "study session" was that it always took at least thirty minutes for you all to actually get to work. It was a lengthy process, but you still somehow managed to get work done.

After yawning and raising your head from the table to lean back comfortably against the booth seat, An switched her attention from Mizuki to you. She smirked pridefully and played with a strand of her hair. "Y'know, y/n, me and Akito did some talking during practice yesterday, and—"

"What did you do?" You asked in horror, slowly sinking down the seat. An shook her head, a sign that your fear was unnecessary. "I didn't say anything, okay?" She took a large gulp of her coffee before continuing her explanation. "We just played a little game of 'what if'."

"By 'we played' do you mean you forced him to answer your questions while he tried to get work done?" Mizuki interjected, to which An rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes, but that's not the point. The point is..."

She paused, leaving you in suspense. Her mouth stayed open for a bit, before shutting—but there was still a smirk on her face. You raised an eyebrow. "The point is?"

She shrugged. "Actually, I'll let you find out on your own."

You couldn't help but get butterflies from that sentence alone. Whether they were good or bad was unknown, but it made you feel nervous, nonetheless. "C'mon An," you begged, "don't be evil..."

You turned to Mizuki, desperation written on your face. "Do you know anything?"

"No," she answered, "nothing for sure. But can I offer my two cents?" You nodded eagerly and waited for her to speak again. "He never snaps at you, but he sure does tease the hell out of you. Odd, don't you think?"

"Right?" An agreed. "He even snaps at Toya sometimes, and that's his best friend."

"What if I just get Ena to put you on?" Mizuki questioned, to which you immediately declined her offer. You chuckled humorlessly and played with the hem of your shirt. "Absolutely not! She would totally make fun of me until the end of time. Maybe even criticize my taste in guys, if she's feeling extra mean..."

Mizuki scoffed and mocked you. "As if she can't already tell you're crushing on him."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you can't act normal around him for the life of you," the bluenette answered for her. "He doesn't even have to be in the room. We could just be talking about him and you'll start giggling like a little girl."

"No, I don't! I didn't even giggle today!"

"Yeah, because you were too busy trying to not have a panic attack over whether I told Akito about your feelings for him or not," she countered, to which Mizuki agreed.

"Yeah, it's, like, painfully obvious how bad you have it for him. I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew. Maybe that's why he teases you so much."

If that was the case, you wouldn't know what to do. If he already knew, then why wouldn't he just tell you instead of making you wait so long for a fifty-fifty answer? The thought made you want to throw up. Not that it was bad, but it was nerve-wracking. It would be nice if he did know, but what if he didn't feel the same? What then? You placed your hand on your stomach and pouted subconsciously. "All this stress is making my stomach hurt."

"And all this pussying out is making my head hurt," Mizuki joked. Meanwhile, An was scrolling on her phone, barely paying attention to the conversation now. "C'mon, y/n! I'm sure if you tell him, he'll be nice about it."

"No, he won't," you whined. "Guys are never nice about this stuff. The last time I confessed to a guy, he told the entire class and they all made fun of me for a month."

"That was in primary school, y/n..."

"So what? It still happened!"

"Y'know what?" An spoke up as she tidied up her area, putting her books and pens back into her schoolbag. "What if we help you practice a confession?" You raised an eyebrow and asked what she meant. "Mizuki will cover your eyes, and I'll pretend to be Akito. Then, you work your magic and confess!"

"Why does Mizuki have to cover my eyes—?"

"Because it'll help you focus on envisioning his presence." It didn't take a genius to know that she completely pulled that claim out of her ass, but you chose to just let her get away with it. "C'mon, y/n! It's getting sad watching you drool over him without knowing if he feels the same or not."

You let out a defeated sigh and threw your head back. "Okay, okay. We can practice, or whatever."

Little did you know that agreeing to her idea would be the best and worst decision you've ever made.

As to why you were doing this outside was a mystery. Maybe it was to avoid getting weird looks from people inside the cafe, but it was equally as bad—and probably worse—to do outside the building. You stood in front of An, awkwardly rubbing at your arm to distract yourself from the pure embarrassment you felt every time someone walked past you three. Mizuki and An, however... You really needed their confidence, because they did not seem to give a shit about gaining people's attention.

"Alright," An said cheerfully, "close your eyes and just imagine that I'm Akito. Mizuki, you cover her eyes so she can't see for sure." Mizuki did as she was told, lightly cupping her hands over your eyes. With that, An cleared her throat and spoke up a second time. "Are you imagining him?"

"Uh," you muttered nervously, "sure, I guess." It took a while for her to speak up again, but you assumed that she had gotten distracted by her phone again. "Now say what you have to say. Don't think about it; just let it flow out."

"...An, this is stupid."

"Trust me! It'll help!"

You sighed and took your time to think. Let the words flow out, you thought. It couldn't be that hard. It was like you were talking to yourself. All you had to do was just forget about An and Mizuki, and you were good. You imagined a world where everything was perfect. A world where it was just you and Akito, for the time being. A world where no one could make fun of you for expressing yourself. A world where everything went your way. You clenched your hands into fists and swallowed hard, preparing to vocalize your thoughts and feelings.

"...since you're totally Akito," you began sarcastically, still finding the whole concept to be ridiculous, "I guess now's the time to finally tell you about how much I'm soooo in love with you, and how annoying it's been to have to deal with these feelings, knowing damn well that I was way too scared to actually tell you about them without my friends forcing me to. And I guess I have to talk about how irritating it is to have to deal with your teasing without knowing if it's platonic or not. And I guess I have to talk about how this is probably a huge waste of time because I know that I'll just pussy out when I actually want to try to confess to you."

You could hear Mizuki sigh behind you. "You're not taking it seriously, y/n!"

"What's the point? It's not like I'm gonna tell him anything anytime soon, so what's the—"

During your mini-rant, you pulled Mizuki's hands away from your eyes and opened them. Instead of An standing in front of you, she was beside Akito, who was now where she stood before. You felt your entire body freeze up at the sight of him. Not only that, but your heart fell all the way down to your ass. He was smirking at you, seemingly finding the situation to be amusing.

"—That's the point," Mizuki finished for you. Not that you were even listening. You were too busy trying to not start hyperventilating. "Why are you here?" You timidly questioned. He was supposed to be at work, so why the hell was he here now?

"I'm on my break and An told me to come here," he answered smugly, not once breaking eye contact other than to blink. "What was that about you being soooo in love with me?" Your jaw clenched and your head became light. Is this what dying felt like? Because, honestly, you were hoping that your next breath was your last.

"It was just a joke," you blurted out and internally cursed at how stupid that lie was. Akito sneered and let out an 'uh-huh'. You weren't getting out of this easily, so you might as well just give up. "Akito," you muttered, "don't do this to me."

"I already knew before this," he admitted nonchalantly. "I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to tell me."

"It would've taken longer if An didn't set me up..." Maybe your crush on him was obvious, as much as you didn't want to believe it. "Can you just, like, tell me what you think so I can rest easily tonight?" He nodded and laughed a bit with that same annoying grin on his face. "I think you're cute, or whatever."

An let out an excited squeal before you could even process what he said. "And I think that you should come clean about this beforehand so we could actually…y'know."

"I don't know," you replied, to which Mizuki quickly spoke up with a grin of her own. "He wants you!" Akito sent her a glare but didn't deny it.

"You're making this a lot less enjoyable for me," he advised the girls. "But I guess that's one way to put it." It felt like the entire world was crumbling beneath your feet but in a good way. You couldn't help but play with your fingers as a nervous tic, but despite your anxiety, you were smiling. Wide. Before you knew it, you walked up to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Akito was caught off guard, but only for a bit. He eventually wrapped his arms around you as well and applied a sweet kiss on the top of your head. It was like a dream.

"Thanks, An…" you mumbled against his chest. You totally owed her after this.

written by @nvrswrld

[grandlinedreams]

Ok I loved the whole reader is Kid’s/Killer’s sister. And I can just imagine her and Kid not getting along, and when the heart pirates and kid pirates run into each other, reader and Kid are like two cats fighting. Then Killer picks reader up under her arms like a kitten, and hands her to Law, all like, “this is yours”.

Could you make this happen please? 😭😭

I told myself I wouldn’t send anymore requests till they went down a bit more, but this scenario wouldn’t leave my head, and I wanted to see it come to life with your words. Asdfghjkl I’m sorry 😅

LMAO YES i loved writing it 🥺 but also don't apologize bb, I got you!!

[Heads up!: semi/non-canon compliant (idk either around Sabaody or in the 2 year ts), established relationship, sibling antics (Reader and Kid), cursing, silliness]

You love your brother, you swear that you do. You've stuck with him through thick and thin and at the end of the day, woe to anyone who tries to hurt him while you're around.

That being said, however, that doesn't necessarily mean that you like your brother or his general attitude towards anyone that isn't part of his crew.

Part of you gets it, truly ㅡ there's been plenty of skepticism and mockery when it comes to Kid and his goal in life. Finding the One Piece is a pretty lofty ambition, but you have no doubts your brother has the determination it takes. He's hostile because of it though, less keen on asking questions and more on the offensive ㅡ and his attitude towards Law's crew is no different.

Perhaps it's made worse, actually, for the fact that you're currently in a relationship with Law. Something your brother knows, and hates. Which is why you've found yourself, predictably, in another argument with him.

Anger boils in your veins as you raise your voice to match Kid's. "Stop treating me like I'm an idiot! I'm a grown adult!"

"Then act like it, damn it!" Your brother snaps back. "I don't have time to babysit you anyways!"

"Nobody asked you to, youㅡ" You yelp as hands hook under yours, your feet leaving the ground as you're lifted up. You know who it is, the only one besides Kid who'd dare to lift you like this in the first place. "Killer, put me down. Now."

The masked pirate ignores your demand, unbothered by the way you squirm in his hold before he sets you down in front of the Law and a handful of his crew, who've been watching this shitshow go down silently.

"This one is all yours," Killer tells Law, hand on your head and ignoring the way you swat at his touch, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted in annoyance. "For now."

"You can't just hand me off like I'm a package," you grumble, "are you that desperate to get rid of me? I didn't even do anything wrong!"

"Not getting rid of you," Killer cuts in, "just giving you some time away from Kid. I think you both need it."

Ever the voice of reason against his captain, Killer has a point ㅡ you could do with a couple weeks (or more) away from your brother and his crew, and who better to hand you off to?

You're sure Kid could think of better (or worse) people to leave you with, but all he does is scowl, silented by the firm steer of Killer back the way they'd come.

You watch your brother and his crew retreat, the scene not unfamiliar even as you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "How mad do you think they'd be if I stayed with you permanently?"

You don't raise your voice and it's not quite an intentional needle to Kid, but he still comes to a halt and glares at you over his shoulder. "I heard that," he snaps, "don't even think about it!"

You adopt a face of innocence that lasts just long enough for your brother to turn back around, then glance at Law, who tilts his head. "The offer does stand," he says, even though there's a teasing gleam to his eyes that you grin at.

"I don't think I'll be truly leaving my crew anytime soon," you say as Law's own crew heads back towards the Polar Tang, and you wait until they've gone to snag your fingers in the front of Law's shirt, tugging playfully. "But I could be convinced to stay a little longer."

[ckret2]

Chapter 36 of human Bill Cipher is on death row in the Mystery Shack and would rather not be, featuring: the author being pissed as hell after spending all day drawing eight pictures for a comic oh my god it really took all day, and then discovering that the Internet connection is so shitty the images won't upload, so y'all have to pretend that I included eight pictures here and cheer and clap and applaud for them.

Insert colorful pictures here. 💦 Use your imagination. 🚗 I'm so tired.

But more importantly: Mabel makes Bill do community service.

EDIT FEB 8: i finally got around to uploading the art lmao

I don't know why I thought all that effort was a good idea. Please appreciate the hell out of it.

####

Two blue- and orange-haired girls trailed after a pink-haired girl as she furiously stormed into the stark white control room. Each wore the same uniform—a skintight space suit with a pleated skirt and heart-shaped patches that matched their hair colors on their sleeves—but the pink-haired girl had taken off her helmet and ripped the patches off her sleeves. "Please, Momoko-chan," the blue-haired girl said, "don't do it. What if you make the director angry—?"

"That devil can't feel a human emotion like that," Momoko snapped, making the blue-haired girl gasp in horror. "I've made up my mind, Aoko-chan! Are you joining me or not?"

Aoko bit her lip, pressing one hand worriedly over her chest. "I can't."

"What about you, Orenjiko-chan?"

The orange-haired girl shook her head, her curly corkscrew locks bouncing inside her helmet.

"Fine! Then I'll just do it myself." Momoko stomped into the aisle between the computer consoles and looked up at a shadowy figure at a desk, overseeing the control center from a mezzanine level high above. "Hey, Director!" She threw her heart-shaped patches to the ground. "I quit!"

The shadowy figure didn't flinch. A cold, emotionless voice said, "Is that so."

"I've had enough of your lies! You told me my anger was just me tapping into the righteous fury I needed to protect humanity—but it isn't! These battles are... doing something to me!" She held her hands in front of her face, watching as they trembled. "Every time I'm on the battlefield, my berserker rage keeps getting stronger and stronger. The last time I lost control, I turned on my own friends and nearly killed..." She looked guiltily at the cast on Aoko's broken arm. "I won't do it again. I want out."

"It's too late for that." The director leaned forward into the light. A small floppy-eared albino bunny in a navy blue suit sat on the desk, the reflection on its sunglasses hiding its cruel pink eyes, its fuzzy white paws pressed together in front of its face. "We made a deal, Momoko-chan. I gave you your wish, and you gave us your heart." A wall lit up behind the bunny, displaying a dozen glass terrariums. Each one contained a live, beating human heart. "The battery we replaced your heart with must be running low. You'll need to recharge it, whether you want to or not."

Momoko flinched. She reached into a breast pocket and pulled out a heart-shaped crystal on a chain like she was retrieving a pocket watch. It faintly glowed a hot pink, but even as she looked at it, it faded closer and closer to black.

She frowned and stuffed the crystal back in her pocket. "Then I want to trade back."

"What?!"

"My heart for my wish."

"You can't," the bunny said. "That wish is the only thing protecting your friends! If I reverse it—"

"That's just it," Momoko said. "When I made that wish, I thought my friends needed me to protect them! But now, having fought alongside them..." She looked to Aoko, and then Orenjiko. "I know the truth. And it's that they never needed me to save them! They were always strong enough to save themselves. I just needed to have faith in them."

Aoko's eyes watered up. Orenjiko said, "Oh, Momoko-chan—"

The bunny pounded a soft paw on its desk, calling the girls' attention back. "When will you learn, child! Once you've made a choice, there's no way to undo it! None of your mistakes will ever be erased—and no matter how you grovel, God will not forgive you! So will you die in shame like a worm? Or will you shoulder the burden of your sins and carry on into the future?"

The bunny sat back and looked at a photo in a cracked picture frame on its desk. It showed another bunny in an apron with big golden hoop earrings, holding a tinier bunny that was sucking on a pacifier. A tear rolled down the bunny's fuzzy cheek, hidden from the girls behind its paws.

"We must all live with the consequences of our choices," the bunny said. "Now you must live with yours."

Aoko and Orenjiko frowned and looked away from the bunny, afraid to meet their director's steely gaze. Even Momoko's scowl wavered with doubt.

The bunny adjusted its sunglasses, reasserting its cool, detached demeanor. "The next angel attack will reach Retro Tokyo at midnight. And if I'm not mistaken, you have less than 24 hours until your batteries run dry. You'll need to be in your cockpits to recharge them. You might as well fight."

Aoko's shoulders sagged in defeat. Orenjiko murmured, "Yes, sir." They meekly crept out of the control center.

Only Momoko remained, glaring up at the director. It glared down, unmoved. Momoko grit her teeth and growled at it.

"Enough foolishness. You know what you have to do," the bunny said. "Get in the Fukuin robot, Momoko."

"Dang it!" She stamped her foot with an angry grunt and trudged out of the room.

The shot closed in on the bunny's face as it murmured, "Someday, you'll understand," and then the screen went black. The words Neon Crisis Revelations Angry Cute Girl: Annihilation! Episode 23: The Dark Heart of the White Rabbit! flashed on screen as the ending theme played.

Soos said, "If you ask me, that's one of this season's best episodes. It's often forgotten for the lack of spectacular mecha combat Annihilation is known for, but I find the emotionally-driven episodes give me more to think about later, and we couldn't have gotten this kind of character development out of Momoko in a more action-packed episode. Plus, it gave Director Bunbun some much-needed depth. It doesn't excuse its actions, but it explains them."

"This is exactly why Bunbun's my favorite character," Melody said. "It feels so bad for its mistakes, but all it knows how to do is double down on them. I just wanna give it a hug."

"As much as you want Bunbun to stand down, it's clear why it thinks it can't. It's a textbook example of the sunk cost fallacy," Ford said thoughtfully.

As the episode credits played, Fiddleford leaned over to whisper to Ford, "I think I might've figured out a way to synthesize that paradox element we're needing."

"Did you? Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Don't get too excited just yet, I only might've figured it. Usually, I'd want to run a lot more calculations to confirm it—but considering the dire circumstances, we might just need to run the experiment and see what happens."

Ford stared at him. "Skipping calculations? Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Heh! You hush. It ain't dangerous, I just don't know if it'll work. We'll have to pull a fast one on the universe."

Ford was dying to know what that meant; but before he could ask, the credits ended and Momoko's voice actor perkily announced, "Next time on Neon Crisis Revelations Angry Cute Girl: Annihilation!"

A school exploded. A bright orange combat mech as tall as a skyscraper exploded. A steel grey warship exploded.

Director Bunbun's voice said, "Remember, Momoko, your true enemy isn't the angels, but entropy itself. We are fighting to save the universe from a cold grave. If God wants to kill us, we'll just have to kill God first!"

A giant one-eyed mechanical angel spread out four white-hot arms and six wings with metal feathers like enormous knives. It threw back its inhuman head and trumpeted toward the heavens. And then it exploded.

Tate pointed at the exploding angel, pointed at his father, and said, "Don't even think about it, Dad."

"I wasn't! I ain't got enough beards to run all them arms." Between episodes, Fiddleford hissed to Ford, "I'll explain tomorrow. Come over with Stanley and Soos. I'll need all y'all's help to pull this off."

Ford nodded. He'd have to tell Stan in the morning. He just hoped whatever Fiddleford had in mind would work.

####

As soon as the vending machine opened, Ford could hear Mabel in the living room: "Checkmate! You owe me a soda."

"That's what yooou thiiink," Bill said, voice sing-song. "Congratulations on cornering my king's body double."

"Aw, man! I hate when you do that."

"Good luck finding him amongst all my pawns!"

They were up this early? Ford had thought he'd have to wake the kids. (He'd hoped he would get to them before Bill was up.) He leaned into the living room to see what they were up to.

Bill and Mabel were sitting at the table, playing chess. He recognized some of Mabel's "fairy chess" pieces on the board. They were obviously well into their current game; each had claimed about half the other's pieces.

(It was eerie how much more Bill looked like Bill these days; he'd somehow found a top hat to add to his ensemble, and now when Ford saw him from behind—yellow hair blending into his yellow hoodie, with the eye on his hood laying flat on his back—for a split second, he nearly looked like himself again.)

Mabel waved. "Good morning, Grunkle Ford!" (Bill glanced back at Ford over his shoulder, and the illusion was shattered.) "You're up early!"

"Good morning. So are you." He nodded toward Bill with a disapproving frown. "You do know he cheats, right?"

Mabel gushed, "I know! It's so fun!"

"She's a worse cheat than I am," Bill announced proudly.

"It's not cheating when I do it, I'm a senator!" Mabel leaned across the table, snatched the top hat off Bill's head, and proudly set it on her own. "I can legalize anything I want!"

"Well oh-kay, Miss Senator." Bill stole the hat back. "We're still monarchists on this side of the board."

Ford took a few steps closer to inspect their game more closely. "Why are there sandwich cookies on the chessboard?"

Bill said, "Mabel's got the knights all cozy in the horse stable," he pointed at the "nest" Mabel had made by folding the bottom of her sweater up, "so I'm trying to coax mine back out with delicious treats."

"It'll never work!" Mabel crowed. "The horses are too cozy!"

"I'll get them eventually! Even the loneliest monkey goes to Wire Mother to feed!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ford said, "He's referring to an important psychology experiment where baby monkeys were..." He caught sight of Bill's face, looking right at him and grinning oh so brightly, and mumbled, "Never mind." He cleared his throat. "Anyway—Mabel, when you've finished your game, could you head downstairs? I need to discuss something with you."

"Oh. Okay, sure," Mabel said, giving him a questioning look.

"How come?" Bill's exposed eye was locked onto Ford like a laser. "Is it about the Mysteries?"

The what? Before Ford could ask, Mabel quickly said, "I haven't told Bill anything about the Mysteries, I promise!" She winked at Ford.

Hmm. Ford looked at Bill and said coolly, "I don't think the Mysteries are any of your business, Cipher." He had no idea what game he'd just been roped into, but he was gratified by how quickly Bill scowled.

"I'll be back downstairs in a few minutes," Ford said; and then left to pass the same message on to Dipper and Stan.

####

Ford woke Dipper; told him, like he'd told Stan, not to go through the living room to reach the elevator so Bill wouldn't notice how many people were congregating downstairs; and then headed back down. Stan was out of bed by now, drinking coffee and still in his underwear as he spectated the chess game from the doorway. Stan nodded, "Morning."

"Morning." Ford paused to watch alongside him.

Over thirty years ago, Ford's chess games with Bill had been minor acts of psychological torture. In their first meeting, after flattering the dickens out of Ford's intelligence, Bill had set up a game of "interdimensional" chess; Ford had quickly figured out from Bill's moves that some rules of interdimensional chess were different from Earth's chess; and then, afraid of looking ignorant in front of this strange, friendly muse, Ford had decided to try to pick up the rules of interdimensional chess based on what Bill did rather than ask for an explanation.

The challenge of figuring out the new rules might have been fun, if he hadn't lived in fear of making a fool of himself in front of an interstellar angel. As it was, though, he constantly fell into traps he didn't know were there ("Rookie mistake, by using your bishop to check me you activated my wormhole!"); he never seemed to remember all the things the pieces could do ("Sure, I upgraded my queen to ricochet off the edges squares—I'm surprised you haven't yet!"); and more often than not, when he tried to emulate Bill's moves, Bill gently "reminded" him that it wasn't the right time or place for Ford to do that; and Ford, humiliated and sheepish, had "corrected" his error. He won rarely, but not often.

It took years for Ford to learn there was no such devil as "interdimensional chess." Bill had used the name as a ruse to make up whatever rules he wanted. And on top of that, Ford had it from several reliable sources that Bill wasn't even that good at chess.

Now here Bill was pulling the same con on Mabel with "fairy chess"—and when he tried to tell her it didn't matter that she'd taken out his (disguised) king because the queen was co-regent, she told him that her pieces had democratized and Bill couldn't win until he'd defeated all of them. He not only allowed her this rule; he actually seemed thrilled. Proud.

It was so different from the cordial, half-interested way he'd played chess with Ford.

Ford was sure Bill had just decided this was the best way to keep Mabel's attention; she would have seen secret rules as an unfair imbalance rather than a mental challenge, she had no doubt asked Bill to explain how "fairy chess" worked rather than stupidly tried to guess herself, and if she noticed her opponent was disinterested she'd probably lose interest too rather than try harder. Obviously, Bill had to handle Mabel differently than Ford.

But a small part of Ford wondered: if he'd ever looked Bill dead in the eye, moved a rook like it was a bishop, and confidently informed him that the board had slipped into a mirror universe—would Bill have laughed in delight and congratulated him on figuring out the game?

Stan nudged Ford. "Hey. You look like you could bite through a chair leg," he murmured. "Are you alright?"

Ford snapped, "No, of course I'm not."

Stan gave him a surprised look. "What?"

"What?" Ford shook his head. "Sorry—I misheard you. I thought you asked if I was jealous. Of course I'm not jealous; and yes, I'm alright." He cleared his throat. "What was I—? The study. Right." He clasped his hands behind his back and marched across the living room, nodded to Mabel as he passed, ignored Bill, and swept into the gift shop.

Stan stared after him, stared into the living room trying to figure out what the heck Ford could possibly be jealous over—Bill and Mabel were cracking up over a rook Mabel had turned upside-down and debating the mechanics of a reverse-gravity chess variant—then shook his head and headed back to the kitchen.

Mabel took out one of Bill's bishops and snuck two sandwich cookies off the board to eat without him noticing. He was only half focusing on the game now, distracted by the sound of the most beautiful word in the English language ringing in his head: jealous, jealous, jealous.

####

Stan was the first down, followed by Mabel—"Grunkle Ford, just so you know, I told Bill you gave me that clear pyramid because you inducted me into the Mysteries! He's been going cuckoo trying to find out what that means!"—and then Dipper, hair still disheveled from sleep. Ford nodded. "Good. Everyone's here."

"Great," Stan said, "now what's going on? What's with the whole cloak-and-dagger act?"

"Yesterday, Fiddleford informed me that he may be on the verge of a scientific breakthrough—but he needs some assistance. Stanley, he specifically said it's crucial that both of us and Soos help."

Stan groaned, rolling his eyes. "If this is another one of his cockamamie giant robots..." (Mabel laughed, "Cockamamie.")

"It isn't," Ford said seriously. "Soos is already prepared to go. But if the three of us are at the Northwest estate..."

Stan nodded in comprehension. "And Mrs. Ramirez is out visiting family today." He looked at Dipper and Mabel. "So it'll be just the two of you in the shack with the demon today."

Mabel nodded. Dipper frowned; he'd had an investigation he wanted to go on today. "So, this scientific breakthrough—is it...?"

Ford paused. "Too soon to tell. But, if everything goes stupendously well... it could be, yes."

"What are the odds of it going that well?" Stan asked.

"At a loose, uneducated guess? 20%. But I'd give only 20% odds that it will end in complete failure, too. Far more likely, what we do today will just bring us one step closer to... to." He shrugged. "To the end of everything."

There was a split second too long of silence as everyone tried not to look at Mabel to see how she took that. But she just nodded again.

Ford took in a deep breath and nodded. "So. Dipper, Mabel, you've got Soos's number in case of emergency," he said. "I know you've dealt with Bill yourselves a few times, but—are you both confident you can handle him entirely alone today?"

Stan laughed, breaking some of the tension in the room. "Of course they can handle him! Have you seen 'em? Mabel's got that monster doing anything she says!"

"Oh, come on," Mabel said, waving off the compliment but grinning. "I just get how he thinks, that's all."

"Yeah, and that makes you the only one!"

Dipper gritted his teeth. It stung that only Mabel was getting a vote of confidence—what, did they not think he could handle Bill, too? But he supposed he couldn't argue with it. Mabel was the expert on Bill. Dipper couldn't even have a full conversation with him without getting tangled up in weird haunting metaphors about caves and shadows.

Ford nudged Stan. "But they still need to keep their guard up around him." To Dipper and Mabel, he said, "Do not tell him we're gone, so he can't try to take advantage of the adults being missing. And don't leave him unsupervised. We should be back by dinner."

"Got it," Dipper said.

Mabel snapped off a salute and said, "You can count on us!"

####

Mabel burst into the living room, made a beeline for Bill lying down on the couch, and flung herself across his stomach. "Hey Bill! If you don't tell anyone that I told you that the adults are gone, I'll take you outside to do something fun!"

Bill grinned and tossed aside the Gold Chains For Old Men issue he'd picked up. "Deal!"

####

"This is such a bad idea," Dipper told Mabel as she collected buckets and towels. "You don't trust him that much, do you?"

"It's fine. We have an understanding now," Mabel said. "We speak the same language!"

Dipper grimaced. "I don't really think..."

From the entryway, Bill called, "Found the bracelets! They were hanging on the coat rack." He ducked into the kitchen, already wearing one half of the enchanted bracelets. "Ready?"

"Ready!" Mabel grabbed her half as she ran by, and they were out the door.

Dipper reluctantly followed.

####

On Summerween, some kids had gone at Stan's car with eggs, toilet paper, and—by the looks of the damage—probably also several rocks, keys, and the scratchiest branches they could find. Stan had already washed off what damage he could; but there were still some bits of egg stuck in the seams of the car, and the paint job was a tragic scraped-up disaster, capped off by the giant phrase "TRICK-OR-CHEATER" scratched across the driver's side doors.

Mabel led them to the car and set down her buckets. "Wait here, I've gotta get the hose."

Bill studied the contents of the buckets—cleaning brushes, towels, various liquid soaps. "So, what are we doing?" He emptied one bucket's supplies. "Adding to the damage?" He lifted the metal bucket over his head, prepared to throw it down on the car's hood.

"NOOO! BILL!"

He laughed, "I'm messing with you!" He set the bucket back down.

Mabel returned with a running hose and started filling the buckets. "Grunkle Stan was complaining about how hard it is to repair a classic car like this," she said. "So, I thought we could surprise him by fixing it while he's gone. And you can show everyone how much nicer you're getting by helping!"

"Aw, what?" Bill planted his hands on his hips. "You took me outside to do community service?"

"Bill." Mabel grabbed his arms. "I think it's really important that you show everyone how much nicer you're getting. Really."

Bill swallowed down the urge to scoff. "Sure—but by doing chores for Stan? I'll be nice, but I won't be boring."

"We can play with the hose, too!"

Bill thought that over. "Okay, I'm in." It was an opportunity to get some sunshine, at least.

"Good!" Mabel grinned evilly, lifted the hose, and sprayed it at Bill's face.

He ducked just in time for the stream to miss his head and knock off his hat (which Mabel had generously permitted Bill to hold onto, since she'd forgotten she owned it). He snatched up a brush and a towel like a sword and shield and backed away from Mabel. "Ha! You'll have to do better than that, kid! I can see every possible future branching out from this moment—you'll never land a surprise attack on me!"

"You can see the future, but can you see... this?" Mabel yanked on the hose. It pulled taut behind Bill's ankles.

He tripped, yelped, and landed on his back. "No," he said, staring at the sky. "Apparently I can't."

Mabel sprayed the hose in his face.

Within a couple of minutes, they were on opposite sides of the car, lobbing soggy soapy sponges and towels back and forth at each other—and, in the process, accidentally managing to get the car a tiny bit cleaner as their projectiles drizzled soap over it. Bill had thus far successfully dodged nearly all of Mabel's projectiles—his lower legs and sleeves were more soaked than the rest of him, and mainly from preparing his attacks—while Mabel was quickly drenched and accusing Bill of cheating. Waddles, who had been allowed outside (and, Bill noted, not required to wear a leash), elected not to join the battle, but was quite content to bask in the mud puddle expanding around the car.

And Dipper, meanwhile, sat on the porch, his journal open and ignored in his lap, glaring at Bill and Mabel, disapproving of this scene as hard as he could.

"Okay, truce!" Mabel shouted. "Time out! Pause! Sto—" A soaked towel landed on her face as Bill cackled. She pulled it off. "My bucket's empty, I've gotta refill it."

"You think I'd show mercy just for that?"

"Seriously, Bill!" She ran over to the porch with her bucket and hose.

"Coward!" Bill called; and then, bereft of any targets to attack, entertained himself by picking up a sponge and actually starting to clean the car.

Dipper leaned over toward Mabel. "This is such a bad idea," he muttered.

"No it's not, it's great. Look, he's already helping."

"I'm serious. His aim's getting too good, he could throw a bucket over the top of the car and knock you out or something—"

"But he won't," Mabel insisted.

"How do you know?"

"Because..." Mabel attempted to convey her knowledge by swinging her arms emphatically. "Because he won't, okay? Bill's gonna do community service today and nothing's gonna go wrong!"

Dipper glared toward Bill—just to see that he was looking straight at them, not even trying to hide that he was listening in. He flipped up his eye patch to wink at Dipper.

"Fine." Dipper slammed his journal shut and got to his feet. "But I'm not sticking around."

Mabel gave him a surprised look. "Dipper? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Just Mabel thinking washing a car would make Bill worthy of coming off of death row—which meant she wasn't taking the threat he posed seriously. Which apparently she didn't need to, because she understood him so well—everyone said so—while Dipper, official junior paranormal investigator, somehow wasn't the one who understood the alien demon, and now Mabel kept spending all her free time around Bill because they got each other so well—but Dipper didn't care. Why would he care? There was like a 20% chance Bill could be dead by the end of the day. Which wasn't big, but it was something. "I just don't wanna sit around watching you wash the car, okay?"

"Oh," Mabel said, shifting awkwardly. "You could help out?"

"No he can't!" Bill yelled.

Dipper ground his teeth and tried to ignore him. "I've got other stuff to do. I have a paranormal investigation to go on. It's what I wanted to do today until we got stuck on triangle-sitting duty. So if you're so sure you've got the situation under control, I can just go ahead and do that anyway." Under his breath, he muttered, "I thought we could do it together, but if you'd rather hang out with Bill..."

Mabel bristled. "Well—fine, then! I do have it under control. Thanks for noticing." A tad guardedly, she asked, "So... what's today's big investigation?"

Dipper hesitated, trying to decide how irritated he really was; but if Mabel had extended an olive branch, so should he. He flipped through his journal. "You know about all the recent nighttime burglaries?" He showed Mabel a page where he'd glued a printed-out photo of a long-legged, armless, ghostlike creature, and next to it paperclipped an article cut out from the Gravity Falls Gossiper. "Something's been stealing jeans from every clothing store in town. Based on the surveillance footage, I bet that it's a mysterious, little-known creature called—"

"The Fremont Nightwigglers?" Bill cut in. "Yeah, this is about the time of year their migratory route should take them through Oregon. You oughta check the dumpsters in town. They flock in parking lots at night, but during the day they tend to nest together in half-empty dumpsters."

Dipper stared at Bill.

"You're welcome!" Bill said.

Dipper couldn't even enjoy a good old-fashioned monster hunt without Bill stealing half the thrill of discovery. "Great," Dipper grumbled. He'd better get out of here—before Bill also spoiled what planet the Nightwigglers were from. "I'll see you later, Mabel." He trudged off to find his bike, angrily kicking a patch of grass as he went.

Mabel watched him go, half considering chasing after him.

And then Bill very carefully lobbed a soaking sponge straight at the back of her head.

Mabel squealed—"Bill!"—and charged back into battle.

####

It took them the better part of the morning to finish washing the car—in part because the growing mud puddle kept undoing their work. When they were done, Mabel stepped back and announced, "Okay, great work! Now it's time for... part two! Covering up the scratches." She whipped out two aerosol cans, "With spray paint!" She rattled the cans like underwhelming maracas. 

"Whoa, and you didn't even bring me safety goggles?"

Mabel stared at him. "Since when do you use safety anything?"

"I'm just saying. I'm not sure I trust you wielding spray paint near me."

Mabel thought it was still too soon to be cracking jokes about anything that happened in the Fearamid; but she punched his arm and said, "You'll be fine as long as you don't try to kill me. Here!" She handed him a third can.

He accepted it and shook it up. (Mabel felt like he was just doing it to hear the little ball rattling, too.) "So what's the plan?"

"Grunkle Stan said usually, car dents are... hammered out? Somehow?"

Bill nodded. "Intriguingly counterintuitive."

"But I don't know how to do that," Mabel said. "But! I saw this great makeup tutorial that explains contouring! You use makeup a little lighter and darker than your skin to make fake shadows so your face looks like a different shape!" She held up her cans next to Bill's; his was as near to the same color as the car as Mabel could find, while the other two were a bit lighter and darker. "So I thought, maybe we can use different shades of red to contour the dents and make them disappear? If we spray the shadowy parts with light red and spray the pokey-outie parts with dark red?"

Bill looked at the car thoughtfully. "Yeah, that makes perfect sense! I mean, what's 'three-dimensional' vision anyway?" He set his can on the ground so he could hold his arms out, forming a rectangle between his thumbs and forefingers, framing the car in between like it was a picture. "It's just a two-dimensional view that you take on faith is three-dimensional, because your mind's learned that highlights and shadows are the curvature being revealed by sunlight!"

Mabel had never considered that her vision of the world was a 2D view that looked 3D; but she had taken a lot of art classes, and the first lesson of a new art class was always drawing a circle and carefully shading it in pencil so that it looked like shadows being cast on a ball, so she kinda sorta figured she got it. "Yeah! Exactly like that."

"So you're absolutely right: shadowing the highlights and highlighting the shadows will just cancel out that curvature and make it look perfectly flat," Bill said. "You're an art genius, Shooting Star. We'll have this car looking good as new in no time."

####

Thirty minutes later, they had a scratched, dented car covered in terrible-looking mismatched blobs of red. They actually made the dents stand out more.

Mabel and Bill surveyed their masterpiece silently.

"I've figured out our problem," Bill said. "We forgot to account for Earth's rotation. As the planet turns, the sun casts shadows at different angles, so the dents' shadows will look slightly different."

"Ah. Yeah," Mabel said. "That's gotta be it."

"When I take over this town again, I'll freeze time and we can paint this thing properly."

Mabel wondered if there was a way to briefly freeze time with the time tape they'd confiscated, before quickly remembering exactly what she'd been trying to do when she'd started Weirdmageddon in the first place. "Let's come up with a plan that doesn't involve messing with the fabric of spacetime."

"Hm." Bill planted his hands on his hips thoughtfully. "I have a great idea. What if we cover up the dents with something cooler. Like—flames. Or lightning—"

Mabel gasped, "Or a wizard!"

Bill gave her a puzzled look. "Where are we going to find a wizard—? Oh, right, painting a wizard."

"Bill, that's perfect. We could give Grunkle Stan the airbrushed wizard van of his dreams!"

"Oooh. Oh yeah. I love that." Bill nodded appreciatively. "I've always thought Stanley was more of an 'airbrushed hot babe' guy, though."

"We can put a hot wizard babe on the other side," Mabel said. "And the wizard could be fighting a unicorn! Because that's awesome! And the unicorn probably deserves it. Grunkle Stan would totally fight a unicorn if he ever met one."

"I think we've got a plan."

They retrieved a wider variety of spray paint cans from inside the shack. Mabel took over the majority of the art duties—she was the only one of the two of them who could draw wizards or unicorns—and she left the little details (stars and lasers and so forth) to Bill. He got sidetracked several times drawing multiple copies of his own face around the battle scene, until Mabel pointed out Stan would get arrested driving around with those so they'd just have to cover them up.

Mabel had finished the first mural and was working on the hot wizard babe (it was riding a dolphin) when Bill called from the other side of the car, "Head's up, we're out of orange."

"That's the fourth color you've run out of. What are you doing?" Mabel circled around to the other side of the car to see his work. He'd added some graffiti across the windows in an alien alphabet—Mabel recognized some of the letters from when he'd left coded messages in Dipper's journal—and between the wizard and the unicorn...

Mabel wrinkled her nose. There was an immense multicolored blob stretching between the two figures, scribbled over multiple times in random patterns with every color they had. Well, now she knew why Bill was running out of colors. "Bill, what is that?"

"It's the wizard's magic rainbow laser! The one he's shooting at the unicorn."

"It's too many colors," Mabel said.

Bill gave her a shocked, deeply offended look. "Too many—? Who are you and what did you do with the real Mabel?"

"You can't use every color. For a laser like this, it's gotta be three or four colors."

"Unbelievable."

"And they need to be straight! If it's scribbled like that, it looks like a blob."

"It's more realistic that way! Wild magical powers don't go in a straight line—the more powerful it is, the more chaotic it gets!" Bill gestured insistently at the blob. "I'm doing a perspective thing, here—the colors layering over each other shows how they're all weaving together and wrapping around each other! See?"

Mabel studied the blob more closely. She shook her head. "Sorry Bill. It's just a mess."

Bill threw the empty orange can on the ground and flung his hands in the air. "I can't believe you of all people don't appreciate my art."

"The stars look nice," Mabel said. "And the alien text. It looks like magic wizard runes."

Bill grunted.

Maybe they needed a break. "I think we need to buy some replacement colors before we can finish," Mabel said.

"Yeah, sure," Bill said. "Pop open the car door for me, I can drive us to the hardware store—"

"Nope!" Mabel didn't trust him that much. "You're staying here. We'd get in too much trouble if anyone finds out I let you drive."

"You worry too much about getting in trouble," Bill said; but now that the conversation had moved on from the blob, he already sounded less irritated.

"Sorry, but you've gotta wait here while I get supplies. I'll just bike to the hardware store." She pointed at the house. "Back inside!"

Bill considered the command like he thought he had a choice in it; then nodded in approval. "Fine. Just help me get lunch outta the fridge before you go."

Surely he could find some way to entertain himself, all alone in the Mystery Shack, completely unsupervised.

####

(This chapter was a nonstop train of the most ridiculous scenes I could think of, I hope y'all enjoyed. If you did, I'd love a comment—some of my favorite jokes and character moments so far are in this chapter and I wanna know what y'all liked. Also after spending 9 hours on a comic my internet is too shitty for me to post I could really use some nice comments, thank you, I suffer so much for my art)

[sturnsiolos0]

Only you-Matt Sturniolo

(i just made up some random name for the other girl in this story if your confused who tf Claire is lmao)

It's deep into the evening when you finally arrive, having taken the time to get ready for the party your friends had organized for the new year. Music thrums through the thick air of the dim room, the lyrics lost among the heavy bass and buzzing chatter. As i walk in my attention eventually passes to the living room where you would find Matt draped over one of the chairs, surrounded by Chris and Nick, with Claire no doubt trying to hang off of whichever of Matt's limbs she could get her hands on.

The thought of her touching your boyfriend sends a jolt of resentment coursing through your veins, acid green and putrid in its toxicity, and your lip curls in distaste. Claire and him hooked up once or twice at parties in the past, and now she believes they belong together or something of the sort.

Someone offers you a cup of something as you pass by a table stacked up with piles of half-empty liquor and you accept it with a cool smile, tossing it back and hissing at the acrid burn. You begin to weave through the clusters of people towards the sight of a familiar dark head of hair.

As anticipated, Claire is sat as close as she physically can beside Matt as he lounges on the two-seater, her hands skimming his arm as she cackles at something Chris had said, and your eyes narrow in irritation. She regards you in a similar manner when you emerge from the crowd, a sneer tugging at her features as she dares to lean closer to Matt, who had turned from his conversation with Chris completely ignores her in favour of assessing your attire with rapt attention.

His eyes roam your body, you wore a simple black mini-dress, lingering on the expanse of your bare legs the hint of cleavage that peeks out from the deep plunge of its neckline. His hands reach out, fingers digging into your hips possessively as he pulls you forward, and you happily drape yourself over his lap, fighting against the urge to shoot Claire a smug smirk and instead recieve a hungry caress of Matt's lips against your own.

"Careful, darling." You murmur, reaching up to wipe away the lipstick remnants that stain his lips red.

"Would you want a drink, Matt?" Claire asks as she shifts closer, and you turn to him to hear his answer.

"No."

You hide your snicker at his blunt response by taking another swig of your drink, your eyes rolling on their own accord when she fails to take the hint and continues to probe. "Are you sure? I'm going to get myself another drink anyway, it'll be no trouble."

"I said no. I don't drink." He snaps, casting a scowl in her direction as his grip flexes on your hips.

"Could you get me another whilst you're at it please?Since you're so kind to ask. " You chirp sweetly as she stands, reveling in her snarl. "Thanks, Claire."

She storms off, shoving her way though the dancing crowd, and you finally relax in Matt's hold, shifting to rest your head against his shoulder as he leans back into the plush couch. Matt's head tilts towards you, and you glance up, lashes fluttering as his sharp nose skims your cheek before his smirking mouth finds your ear.

"You're terrible." He murmurs, nipping at the shell of your ear. Giggling, you pull away to meet his eyes, a languid smirk tugging at your features as you reach up to caress his jaw with your free hand.

"You love it."

He leans into your touch and hums in agreement, the low reverberations thrumming against your side pressed tight to his chest, and you shiver in delight at the hunger that darkens his eyes, his gaze only straying to focus on your lips as they wrap around the bottle. Slipping your hand from his jaw to curl around the back of his neck, you toy absently with the short brown strands, fingers carding through the locks as your nails scratch at his scalp.

Claire is quick to return, thrusting the new bottle at you; Matt's hand darts out to snatch it from the air as she lets go, and he rests the cool glass on your thigh as you drain the remaining of your drink before leaning down to place the empty bottle on the ground.

"Are you having a good time?" Claire asks as she returns to sitting too close to Matt. You know the question is directed at him, know that she's trying to gauge the situation and find an angle to flirt with him, and you regard her with pursed lips and a raised brow.

"Sure." Is all he says, turning to join in on Chris and Nick's conversation. But it doesn't stop Claire; instead, she reaches out and clings to his sleeve.

"Oh, Matt. I can see the annoyance in your eyes. Isn't this party awful!" She sneers, eyes darting around the room as she struggles to latch onto something to tear down. "I mean, look at what she's wearing.. how trashy can you get!"

She jabs her finger in the direction of a girl dressed in a startlingly similar outfit to yours, and you scoff - partially at her sheer audacity, but also in amusement at the frustration that mounts on her face when Matt doesn't even grace her with a half-glance. Still, she continues on, making comments and butting into their conversation at every opportunity, calling Nick an idiot and completely cutting Chris off mid-sentence.

Irritation clouds Matt's expression, his brows pinching into a scowl, and so you lean close to his ear and whisper, "Wanna dance?"

He glances between you and the writhing people, considering your offer before shaking his head in dismissal.

"You sure, baby?" You check, and he nods in confirmation, so you shrug to yourself and continue to lounge in his lap, sipping at your drink and trying to enjoy the languid caress of his cool fingers on your bare thigh. You manage it for another minute before Claire's ceaseless attempts at gaining Matt's attention push you to stand suddenly. "I'm going to get another drink, that okay?"

Slipping through the crowds of dancing bodies, you discard your empty bottle at the end of the table before snagging a half-empty bottle of whiskey and, after coming up empty-handed in your quest to find a cup, you settle on drinking straight from the bottle. Wiggling your way back through the crowd, your jaw drops in disbelief when you catch sight of Claire leaning against Matt's shoulder, reaching up to brush his hair back from his forehead. Your shock only continues to skyrocket when you notice that Matt doesn't even bother to push her away.

Jaw clenching, you turn away from the scene to get lost amidst the masses of grinding bodies. If Matt didn't want to dance, fine, but you wouldn't let it stop you from having fun. At least, that's what you told yourself, trying to replace the stinging in your chest with the flames of whiskey that licked its way down your throat, dousing the rational side of you and igniting the urge to make Matt feel what you felt.

You lean back into the body behind you when heavy hands find your waist, eyes closed and head thrown back as you grind and writhe in sync with the stranger, washing away the guilt with another swig of whiskey. You're not sure how long you danced, but one minute there are hands guiding your hips, and the next, you're being snatched away by cold hands digging into your arms, yanking you into a familiar chest. Glancing up, you find Matt snarling at the guy you'd been dancing with just moments before, a blur of insults and curses falling from his lips.

Frowning, you try to tug yourself free of his grip, shoving at his chest. "Let go," You snap, matching his furious scowl with your own. "Go back to Claire, you two looked like you were having fun."

Matt scoffs, eyes narrowed. "Are you being serious right now?"

One hand tightens its hold of your arm, slender fingers forming an iron band around your bicep whilst the other snatches the near-empty bottle from your hand and shoves it into the unsuspecting grip of a nearby person without looking at them. Matt ignores your complaints in favour of dragging you away from the crowd and leads you to his bedroom. He yanks the door open and glaring at the couple making out in the corner of the room to get the fuck out.

As soon as they scramble out, Matt slams the door shut and immediately twists the lock. Eyes, liquefied silver from the heat of his rage, lock with your own as he walks you backwards until your back presses firmly against the door, pinning you there with a glower that you might have shrunk away from if not for the copious alcohol coursing through your system.

"What the fuck did you think you were going to achieve out there?" He snarls, and you huff, arms crossing tight across your chest as you roll your eyes in a play at disinterest.

"That's rich coming from you."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Claire, who the fuck else?!"

"I told Claire to fuck off ages ago and she finally took the hint. You were too busy fucking about with that asshole to notice!"

"She was all over you!" You snap defensively, shoving at his chest as your vision blurs with tears of frustrated anger.

"Don't be ridiculous! How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care about her?" Matt demands, and you stubbornly refuse to meet his steely gaze. He growls, jaw clenched taut, before suddenly his hands are snatching at you, one snaking around your waist to yank you flush to his chest, his other weaving into your hair as he slams his mouth to yours.

The kiss is primal, fueled with rage and irritation and an animalistic urge to claim, and your teeth clash with the force. You struggle against him for a moment, the memory of Claire caressing Matt's face flaring your anger bright, before you cave, hands fumbling to find purchase on his arms, his shoulders, his back.

Matt refuses to loosen his grip, yanking your head back further as he deepens the kiss, biting at your lower lip and dominating your tongue, laying claim to every inch of your mouth.

Your nails rake down his back, trying to pull him closer, and you tug at his shirt in an attempt to reveal the smooth planes of his pale chest. Matt pulls away for a second, teeth grazing your jaw before meeting your eyes; jealousy swims in your eyes, mirrored in his own, and he pulls at your hair once more, your gasping throat displayed in a bare arch, ready and waiting to be marked up by Matt's possessive mouth.

"I told you that I don't care about her." He hisses, leaning down to nip at your neck. "I don't care about anyone else but you."

Teeth bared, you entwine your fingers in his hair and guide him back to your mouth, kisses hungry and desperate to put proof to his words. You knew, deep down, that it was true, but by God did he know how to test you. Matt's mouth wanders back to your throat, sucking harshly to paint the untainted skin with visible displays of his presence, whilst his other hand loosens its grip on your ass to impatiently yank your dress up, the tight material bunching at your hips.

Cool fingers thrust their way into your panties, dragging through your soaked folds possessively, and he hisses in your ear, nipping at your lobe. Your hands trip over themselves to wrestle with the fastenings of his trousers, fumbling with his belt buckle and unzipping them with shaking fingers. Finally you manage to pull his cock free from the confines of his clothing, only for Matt to slap your hands away.

"Don't touch, just do as you're told." He bites out, eyes glinting, and you nod, watching with glazed vision as he grips his cock, fingers glistening from your own slick that he'd gathered. "Get rid of them."

The tip of his dick nudges at your panties, and you yank them down as far as his hold on your hair will let you.

Matt drags his cock though your wet pussy, thrusting against your folds and coating his length, bumping at your clit and catching at your entrance, and you can only whine desperately as your nails embed themselves in his arms. Matt's grip on your hair loosens in favour of dropping to wrap his arm around your ass.

"Jump up, baby."

You follow his instructions, and he lifts you up, your legs curling around his waist reflexively. He settles your weight against the door again, grip slithering up your body, pausing to pinch at your nipples through the material of your dress, before his hand curls its way around your throat, fingers settling against the thrum of your erratic heart as his thumb grazes your jaw.

Matt watches you through heavy lids as he continues to drag his cock through your folds, watches your heaving chest and gasping mouth, revels in the way you fall apart at his touches. He can't understand why you would let that scum touch you at the party, scowls at the painful clenching in his heart and the curdling jealousy that settles in his stomach at the thought, and so he leans in and takes another heated kiss that you gladly give him.

You choke on your moan when Matt suddenly thrusts into you, pussy spasming at the sudden intrusion before jerking your hips forward, desperate for more, needing to be filled by Matt entirely. His grip tightens on your neck as he pulls out an inch before thrusting all the way in, and you gasp for breath as you shift up the door an inch, eyes fluttering at the flood of sensations throughout your body.

Matt wastes no time in setting a brutal pace, shallow thrusts dominating over long, languid strokes, and you whine desperately, walls clenching and hips writhing as you seek out more.

"Why don't you believe me?" He grunts, ramming his cock deeper as he grits his teeth. "Why do you think I want her? I have to prove myself to you?"

You struggle to answer, your mind barely able to formulate words, let alone a sentence, and so you can only meet his eyes and moan in earnest.

"I only want you. There's no one else I'd have like this. No one else I'd fuck like this. Only you."

Obscene whines escape you with every thrust at his declarations, his hips slamming you into the door as if it could drive home the truth. You nod frantically, gasping as his hand flexes against your throat before slipping to cup the back of your neck, cradling your head, and finally you can babble incoherent nonsense in an attempt to reassure him that you believed him, knew that he wanted no one else but you.

"Only you... only you, Matt. Please, ah, yes... no one else! Fuck, please!"

"Who do you want?" He demands, needs to hear you say it directly.

"You, Matt, only you." You cry, clinging desperately to his arms as if he were a lifeline. "Matt, please..!"

Matt's grip shifts, his arm coiling tight around your waist as he spins to lean his back against the door, holding you up as he begins to fuck your pussy with reckless abandon. His thrusts become erratic, rhythm falling away as he chases his release, and your fingers find your throbbing clit as you seek out your own climax. It hits you suddenly, walls clenching and trembling as Matt's cock continues to slam into you, and you're faintly aware of his name being screamed, but you're too busy seeing stars to realise that you're the one screaming it.

Seconds later, although it could have been hours for all you knew, Matt's orgasm hits, his release coating your walls in thick ribbons as a strangled moan spills from his lips. He slowly slides down the door, softening cock still buried deep within your spasming pussy, and you collapse against his heaving chest, his shirt damp with sweat as your legs remain wrapped around his waist, caught between his body and the door.

"Do you believe me now?" He mumbles, suddenly gentle as he reaches up to brush sweat-damp strands of hair away from your flushed face, fingers grazing your cheek as he stares down at you.

You can only nod, pressing a soft kiss to the pink-tinged skin of his exposed throat. "I'm sorry."

Matt acknowledges your whispered apology with a delicate brush of his lips to your crown. "I know, so am I. I was a complete dick.."

Snorting in amusement, you snuggle closer to his chest. "Well, I was a complete bitch."

His lip quirks up in a smirk as he recalls an earlier conversation. "You're terrible."

"You love it."

[aziraphales-library]

Heya!! I was wondering if you guys had any wedding themed fics? Not like Az and Crowley getting married but them attending other peoples weddings? I don't have any specific themes other then romance and fluff lmao

Thanks :D

Hello! Here are some fics in which they attend other people's weddings...

And I mean to go on and on and on and on by yolkinthejump (T)

A wedding of old friends. Aziraphale gets drunk on Gay Love and Crowley absolutely adores him. Par for the course. Thoughts on the muddled history of marriage and the power of love, persevering.

when two lovers meet in Proxima Centauri by heydoeydoey (T)

The Archangel Gabriel and Beelzebub, Duke of Hell request the honour of your presence at their wedding 4:00 pm on Tuesday, 9th of January Proxima Centauri

Love on the Rocks by mageofthepeople (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley are guests at Anathema and Newt's destination wedding. Having problems of their own, they spend the week up to the wedding trying to save their relationship while keeping up with wedding events and social engagements as a couple.

The Nice and Accurate wedding of Anathema Device, Witch, which went just as expected by Nenchen (G)

Wedding planner Anathema Device is the Number One. She can organize anything for a wedding, flower arrangements, catering, a marching band or an emu. The name Device is a guarantee for a picture perfect wedding - and the perfect pictures will be taken by her top wedding photographer, and best friend, Anthony J. Crowley. Both of them see weddings mostly as business, until Anathema meets Newt, Love of her life, walking natural disaster extraordinaire, and very much not a person it’s possible to have a perfect wedding with. Which is perfect since Anathema frankly never wanted one for herself. She just wants a fun party, good food, and all of her friends to attend - including Crowley. For whom this might just as well be the apocalypse because no, he is not allowed to work on her wedding. Strictly invited only as a guest, Crowley finds himself at a loss. What the hell do you do at weddings? Well, if you are Crowley, the answer is some James Bond-like action, some worrying about fly swarms and their sources, having a lot of emotions, drinking some very funny wine, putting your foot in your mouth and just maybe meeting someone to share all of that with. Oh, and there’s always cake, isn’t there?

Talk About It by hope_in_the_dark (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley have been best friends for sixteen years. Crowley's been in love with Aziraphale for almost that long. When Aziraphale tells his family that he'll be bringing his boyfriend to his step-brother's wedding, things get a bit complicated. A Fake Dating AU.

It's Not The Journey by cosmya (T)

It had been going so well. They’d averted the apocalypse, averted their punishments, averted further investigation or attention by their respective organizations. They were left with little to do but bask in the happy ending. Therein had been the problem. Another champagne, sir?” interrupted the flight attendant. Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open. Oh, I shouldn’t, he thought. “Yes, please,” he said. “Thank you.” Anathema and Newt are getting married, and two of their wedding guests are in a bit of an awkward place. An all-inclusive resort with unlimited alcohol is precisely what they need to re-break the ice.

- Mod D

[erika-xero]

REPOSTOBER, day 22: the Champion of Cyrodiil (2015-2017)

TW! this post has some TES-headcanons which might not be everyone's cup of tea, but please, don't judge a woman by her headcanons lmao

Here he is, my weird lil man. His mom worshipped Mephala and almost sacrifised her own newborn child to the Ebony Blade, but his father managed to steal the baby and hide him in Skyrim. Cero was raised in the orphanage (YES, THAT Orphanage) being bullied by the nord children for being, well, an elf. Many years later, Cero became a gladiator in the Imperial City Arena, and this is pretty much where his story begins.

He starts off as a man, who kill people for money at the start of the game, and being an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood doesn't seem any difference, so he joins in.

Lucien, being the one who brought him into the family, fascinates him. Cero soon develops feelings towards the Speaker, which he describes like some sort of a spiritual bond. He can't fully express what exactly he feels (because he is being in denial), so he keeps his feelings to himself, before it is too late.

This was a breaking point for Cero, who was already traumatized by the Purification, so he cut his ties with Dark Brotherhood and excapes, using the chaos of the Oblivion Crisis. After the series of unfortunate events he becomes the one, who carried the Amulet of Kings and the one, who saved Martin in Kvatch. They soon become friends and Martin is the one who actually tries to make Cero a better person. And then Martin dies too.

Being ceverely depressed and traumatized by losing all the people he loved and who were actually nice to him in a quite short period of time, Cero starts drowning himself in alcohol. And at that very moment, the Dark Brotherhood finally show up and capture the man and take him to Bravil for a trial. He manages to excape. And this is when the Shivering Isles storyline begins.

I wrote a bunch of fics (in russian) about Cero in the Shivering Isles, and in my AU he is literally possessed by Sheogorath who takes over his body and desperately try to fight back, and the main antagonist of the story is Haskill, who does everything so that Cero would lose himself and all his memories forever.

Eventually, he manages to take control of his own body for a few times, and one of them happened during the Skyrim timeline:

His body changed over time, he starts looking less than himself and more like Sheogorath: his hair and eyes gone white, his skin became pale and rosy, but he never actually ended up looking the way Haskill wanted him to look. Somewhere after the Skyrim timeline his former self gets in control of his body again and gets in a fight with Haskill. Cero uses the sword of Jyggalag to snap the Staff of Sheogorath in two parts and finally breaks free. He's memory is wague, his feelings are all messed up and he barely understand what is happening, the only thing that keeps him going is his lust for freedom. And this is the point when the events of my Champion/Nerevarine AU begin. Small bonus for everyone, who read it this far: Cero as Jyggalag.

And Cero with his lover - my Nerevarine Raelin, who was the first person he encountered when he finally broke free from the Shivering Isles, and the person who helped him regain all of his memories (she's also probably the only person in the universe who can handle this firce lil man).

And yes, Cero is actually his father's surname. The champion has a name, but the only person who knew his name was Martin.

[idkbutimgabby]

♣️ Brown Eyes Can Tell ♣️

a part two of @roseykat's amazing fic 'Brown Eyes Don't Pry', which left off on such a good little cliffhanger that it inspired me to write this part two (I literally HAD to, it was that good) - PLEASE GO CHECK OUT HER STUFF, I BEG OF YOU!!! And big, BIG, HUGE thank you to @roseykat for letting me write this continuation of her fic and her idea, and being so nice about it!!! I was definitely scared she was going to say sorry but big no, but she was so polite and nice and I just want to thank her for being so accommodating to her readers and fellow authors. So, again, PLEASE check out her stuff, and HUGEEE thanks to @roseykat for letting me post this! Hope it reaches standards lol 🤞🤞

word count:

-2.2k (not including my nervous rambling 😍)

trope:

-friends to friends with benefits (?) roommates to something more (?😭)

-friend/roommate!Changbin x fem!reader

warnings: smut (that's basically the whole thing lmao); spit kink (guilty pleasure, what can I say), unprotected sex (don't be stupid) messy sex, size kink (?) eating out, cumplay, mentions of masturbation, porn, fingering, squirting, degradation, cursing, perverted characters (all consensual)

This includes a lot of smut, so please if you're a minor, DO NOT INTERACT!!! please and thank you 🙏💕💕

Seo Changbin, your friend and roommate, stood in front of you, fingers still pressing gently into you jaw, tilting you head sideways. He was observing you, you could tell. What he was thinking, you had no idea. But the way he was talking to you was starting to annoy you. They way he spoke, so condescending and almost as if he was embarrassed.

You scoff, the blush remaining across your face as you begin to get upset.

"Why were you watching me anyway? What, you said yourself you finished watching me get off. How long were you standing there, watching me like a fucking pervert?" You say, voice coming back to you as you shove his hand away from your face.

He's the one scoffing now, seemingly interested in the way you retaliated.

"Oh, so you're putting shit on me now, huh? As if you weren't the one just getting yourself off on your desk, for fucks sake? No, let's not pretend you weren't waiting for one of us to get home and see you getting off, waiting for one of us to fuck you, like a damn whore." He says, voice darkening, along with those deep brown eyes.

You can't deny you were surprised. You had never heard him speak like this before to anyone, let alone to you. You just roll your eyes, flicking them down for a split second.

"Looks like you'd love to fuck me right about now, judging by that massive situation you've got going on down there." You smirk, matching his condescending tone, pointedly tilting your head downwards.

He falters for a split second, knowing he can't actually deny that. He can't deny that seeing you like that was hot. Very hot. Begging to cum, even though no one was there to hear you. Well, that's what you had thought at the time.

"So what? You try not getting... excited... at someone getting off." He says, trying to defend himself. But, he notices you quickly glancing at your phone. He's confused for a second, but then remembers the video you were watching. Some woman getting pounded into the mattress by some strong, muscly guy. A smirk makes its way across his face, realizing the leverage he regained.

"You do..." He says delightedly, noticing the blush burning across your face once again.

"Do what?" You snap, playing dumb as you shove your phone away from you, scrambling to grab your clothes from your bed.

"Get off to people getting off." Changbin says, giggling hysterically at his own little joke. If you can even call it that. Sure, it's amusing to him, but he can't excuse the fact that there must be some kind of meaning to it. There's something there, he can feel it.

"What, it turns you on or something?" He tries, deciding to just poke around in the dark until he finds what he's looking for.

You shake your head, still fiddling with anything you can find to keep your hands from shaking. He's acting casual, but obviously it's still embarrassing. A lot.

"It's just background noise for when you get yourself off?" He tries again, hopeful.

You shake your head again, shooting him a sharp look.

"You wish it was you?"

Silence. You freeze up, avoiding his eyes, fighting to keep your embarrassment at bay.

Bingo, Changbin thinks, a smirk once again appearing on that smug face, expression darkening with amusement and... yeah, he's horny. How could he not be?

"So... I was right. You do wish that someone will get home, hear your pitiful little whimpers, come in, and start railing you. Isn't that right? I know it is."

You look up at him, brows furrowing in embarrassment and anger, apprehension and... hopefulness. Yes, even though this whole thing has just been massively embarrassing, a part of you still hopes that maybe he'll give you what you want. What you've been craving for so incredibly long now, deprived of touch, of pleasure.

He grins, staring right back at you, thinking about his next move. He decides to just go for it. Felix said he wouldn't be back for a few more hours at least... fuck it. Changbin wants to fuck you, and he wants you to want him to fuck you. Which shouldn't be a problem, judging by how fucking needy and desperate you look right now.

He steps closer to you, grabbing your chin again, tilting it up to meet your eyes. Both of you are holding your breaths, staring into one another's deep brown eyes. Both sets of eyes are sparkly, each pair holding the same emotions. Want, need, even.

"Can I...?"

His voice is in your ear, softer than you had expected, especially considering the situation. But you nod, desperately wanting him to do everything and anything to you.

"Please?" You whisper back, matching his softness. Changbin grins, then grabs your waist and gently pulls you flush to his own body. He stares into your eyes, both pairs now darkening with insatiable need. Need for each other, to feel the other in ways they've only ever dreamed of...

And before you can process all the emotions you're feeling, his lips are on yours. It's soft, sweet, gentle at first. But then his tongue swipes swiftly across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, lips parting to let him in. You inhale sharply, making him pull away the tiniest bit.

"You okay? Can I keep going?"

You nod immediately, pulling him back to you abruptly. He grins into the kiss, hands starting to roam down, further and further...

He reaches down, fingers hooking into your waistband. Hell, if you had known he was going to help you out, you would never have hastily thrown your clothes back on. He gently slides your sweats and underwear down, leaving you in only your oversized t-shirt.

And God, do you look good in it. He wants to take you right then and there, bend you over and pound into you until you can't even think. But, he'll be patient for now. Well, as much as he can be, anyway. His tongue swirls in your mouth, you just take everything you can get from him. He cups your face with one hand, pulling away suddenly.

He squeezes your cheeks, pinching with his thumb and fingers, getting you to open your mouth. Eyes flashing, he smirks and lets his spit dribble down into your eager mouth. He lessens the pressure, grinning in delight when you swallow immediately. Your lips connect again, and the kiss gets filthier.

You're both basically drooling all over each other, into each other's mouths, spit trickling down both your necks, stickying up both your collarbones and chests. And you both love it; the sounds, the feeling, the sensations.

Not breaking away, he starts undressing himself, pulling down his sweats, tossing them away. He pulls his shirt over his head as quickly as he can, tossing that away as well.

And damn, is he gorgeous. He tries to resume the kiss, but your hands fly to his chest, keeping him slightly away from you.

"Um, wow." You say, suddenly.

He smirks lopsidedly, proud but slightly embarrassed. He grabs your hands and pulls you to him again, bare skin against bare skin, lips and tongues clashing again. He walks you back until your knees buckle against the bed, climbing on top of you and starting to plant kisses on your inner thighs, tongue flicking out every now and then.

Your head flies back as he gets closer to where you need him, where your cunt is dripping. Your previous orgasm had already made you slick, but now you were even wetter, your arousal increasing the more Changbin had teased you. He finally reaches your pussy, tongue flicking out as he eats you out. His pace was slow at first, patient, as if he was savoring every bit, every taste. But soon, he picked up the pace, movements quickening as if he was starving.

Your head was tilted, face halfway turned into the pillows in pleasure, as you felt him insert two fingers. You let out a quiet moan, feeling yourself about to cum all over his face and fingers. He felt it too, the sudden clench of your cunt, as he worked his fingers inside of you, while still flicking his tongue over your clit.

"Bin... m'bout to cum.." You say, voice slightly muffled by the pillows. You feel him nod, tongue increasing its pace over your puffy clit, earning a small gasp from you. His fingers curled into you, pressing over that spot inside you, causing you to snap.

You came all over him, squirting over him and covering his chest and collar and face in your arousal. Panting, you turned your head to him, eyes half closed as you came down from your release.

You saw him grinning at you, as he sat up from between your slightly shaky legs. His face and the top part of his body was shiny and wet, coated by your release.

"Well that was hot." He says, smiling, licking his lips and fingers. Smirking at him, you motion to his cock, signaling to him that you're ready to take him. He's pretty dang big, too... about average length, thick as fuck. But, you're pretty sure you can take him.

He sends you another look, making sure you're comfortable with proceeding. Nodding eagerly, you pull his arm, tugging him closer to you and licking right into his mouth. He kisses you back, starting to slide inside you at the same time. He is thick, and you definitely feel the stretch. But it's insane how much more it turns you on, feeling your own cunt stretching around his dick, sucking him in like he belonged inside you.

Tongues still fighting each other, he slips inside you little by little, stretching you out until he bottoms, hips pressed against each other. He swallows all your little moans, returning with his own small grunts as he pushes inside you.

Fully bottomed out, you pant into each other's mouths, while he gives you time to get used to the stretch. Nodding at him, he begins moving, gently at first, but soon speeding up, just like he did when he was going down on you. His pace quickens, and you reach the brink of orgasm, legs shaking...

But then he pulls out, grinning down at you before kissing your poured lips, flipping you over onto your belly. He spreads your legs out, giving him easier access to slide in again.

The new angle brings you to the edge quickly, and he quickens his thrusts into you, hitting your spot over and over. You're drooling into the pillows, and he gently threads his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back. He uses his thumb to wipe the drool from your chin, pushing it back up to your lips, and poking his thumb past them.

Obediently, you suck on his thumb, but soon your jaw falls slack again due to him pounding into you even faster, feeling like he's hitting deeper inside of you with each thrust. He spits into your mouth again, reveling in the way his saliva drips out of your mouth, still opened in pleasure.

He continues drilling into you until you cum over his dick, release spilling out while he slows his thrusts into you. He quickly feels his own release creeping up on him, amplified after seeing your orgasm. He pulls out and flips you over again, wanting to see your face as he cums all over your breasts and tummy.

You're pretty wiped out, but he seems eager to at least clean you up. How nice of him, right?

He sucks and licks all his own cum off your boobs, leaving small love bites in the valley of your breasts, and all down your stomach. He continues further down, until he reaches your pussy, slick and shiny with your own release. He starts cleaning you up, lapping at you casually, licking up your release, savoring the taste on his tongue again.

He sits back when he's had his fill, then carefully climbs over you and lays on the bed next to you, arms carelessly flung around your waist, hugging you gently.

It's a nice moment, you have to admit. At least, it is until you both hear the front door unlocking, meaning Felix is home.

"Shit... um, okay, you go hop in the shower, I'll clean up here." Changbin says hurriedly, climbing out of your bed and offering a hand to you, gently pulling you out of bed. He helps you hobble to the bathroom, even getting you a fresh towel before closing the door. He pulls on his boxers and sweatpants before going to greet Felix at the door.

But the whole night, he can't help but think about you. Just you, and how much he enjoyed railing the shit out of you. That image of you, fucked out, with drool all over your lips and chin, eyes half closed, lost in pleasure. the pleasure that HE gave to you, made you feel.

And how much he wants to do it again.

It's over! Ooooh cliffhanger, am I right? I guess I'll leave the rest up to you, and if anyone wants to make a part three, I would actually be super interested in reading it 😭And this is my first fic, so I'm kinda nervous lmao 😭 Hope you liked it, and again, please go check out @roseykat and boost her work, it's so good!! Thank you for reading, and I may or may not have a few more ideas and works in progress, so watch this become a writing blog 😨😍 Not super serious, but I'm definitely looking to post a few more fics of my own, so I guess look forward to those? THANK YOU GUYS 🙏💕💕

written from:

[givemea-dam-break]

a/n: part two for this request - "may i request a fem reader x anthony lockwood where reader is a super talented fittes agent who constantly trades barbs with lockwood but he soon realises she fancies him so he ends up teasing her during missions by doing small stuff like pulling her close and calling her babe when no one is around - since quite a few of you wanted one! if you want to find it on my masterlist, it's called Love, simply because I'm terrible at naming my fanfics lmao. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of death/suicide (very vague), language female reader taglist: @cassiopeiia24 @nessa-stark @galactidiot @randomfanficreader @tom-foolery-time

part 1

Loneliness. Terrible, suffocating loneliness. It's thick and cloying and it's getting harder to breathe. God, your throat is closing up and your lungs hurt, weighed down by this strong sense of isolation and abandonment. How are you meant to function when it's so powerful, so heartbreaking? It's overtaking your heart, filling your lungs, intoxicating your blood.

With a feeling like whiplash, you're torn from your vision, and your hand is tugged away from the tree branch and placed on someone's chest. You can feel someone's heartbeat, steady and reassuring, and your own slows. Breathing is a little easier now.

"You're okay, love. I'm here."

The voice shakes you out of your daze, and your eyes snap open, only to be met with the face of Anthony Lockwood.

The setting sun is working wonders on him. Gold and orange rays of light fight for dominance on those high cheekbones and the tip of his nose. His dark eyes swirl with hues of copper and caramel. His lips, turned down slightly with worry, hide the possibility of a bright smile as you look at him.

"Don't -"

"Call you that," he finishes. "Yes, I know. You realise that the more you tell me not to, the more I will."

You scowl at him, but you don't move. A month ago, you would've pulled out of his grip and away from him within a second but, now, you can't bring yourself to.

He knows this all too well, and he revels in it. More often now does he find some excuse to have you touch him. Oh, (name), pass me some salt bombs, won't you? Followed by a not-so-subtle brush of fingers. Do I have lavender in my hair? Get it out, please, the scent becomes too strong sometimes. And there's usually no way for you to get out of shaking it out of his hair because he often puts your hand there himself. Let me walk you home. Then he'll drape an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close or safe as he calls it.

Maybe you've bolstered this attitude of his because more often than not, you don't object. Yes, you'll call him an idiot or a twat or something more insulting, but you've come to welcome these touches, however fleeting they may or may not be.

So, now, with your fingers splayed over his white shirt, it's almost as if you can't bring yourself to move. It doesn't seem like Lockwood is particularly fussed about moving, either.

"What did you see?" he asks, eyeing you carefully. "Something seemed different."

Despite your team's displeasure about paired up so frequently with Lockwood and Co for certain cases by DEPRAC, you haven't been too bothered by it. You and Lockwood have begun working like a team, figuring out each other's tells and habits while still throwing insults and remarks back and forwards. He's become used to watching you use Touch to figure out where sources are, learning how your body reacts in accordance to different things.

You don't want to tell him that this particular vision fed into your own feelings, so instead you say, "It was just stronger than usual. We're close. Very close."

At last, his hand releases yours, and he places his hands on his hips, staring up at the towering tree before you. Members from both of your teams linger around the whole park, scouting out for any clues as to where the source is, seemingly with no luck. The reason for that is likely the pairings. Lucy and Kat and Ned, George and Bobby and Kipps. None of them are getting on particularly well.

"You think it's the branch itself?"

"I'm not sure." You flash your torchlight on the thick branch. "This guy, well, you know... His body was found here after days of just..."

"Hanging there."

"Thank you for that input. But yes. It would make sense. The rope had to be cut off because it was tied so tight. And the emotions were extremely strong, so it would be my best bet."

"Well, whatever you say, love."

You purse your lips. "You're insufferable."

"You love that about me."

Fighting down the urge to strangle him, you pull your silver net out of your belt. "I say we place the net over the branch, see if the ghost still appears. If it does, well, we're fucked, to put it simply. I'll be completely clueless. But, if it doesn't, then we can secure it in place overnight and get someone to remove the branch in the morning."

"Aye, aye, captain."

"Shut up."

Lockwood grins at you then, so bright and dazzling that for a moment you're frozen.

Maybe it affects you the way it does because it's something you've lacked for years. You can't remember the last time someone smiled at you with such joy before Lockwood, as if you've done something to deserve it.

Gently, he takes the silver net from your hands and swings out over the branch before stepping back and looking at it like he's just finished some incredible piece of art. You roll your eyes, glancing back at your teams again.

"I think Barnes pairs us up on purpose," you say. "He knows we don't all get on."

"We get on tremendously," Lockwood remarks. "We went from you insulting my clothes and face, and me making fun of your moods, to being the best of friends."

Frowning, you say, "I wouldn't say 'the best of friends'. I tolerate you, Lockwood. And your face and fashion haven't improved over this last month, I hope you know. I mean, come on, grey tie and pink socks? It's like you're taking inspiration from some raw salmon. Do I have to buy you some socks for your Christmas?"

He nudges your shoulder with his. "You hear yourself? You're on about getting me a Christmas present!"

His fingers brush yours then, and you almost jump from the contact. His hand is warm against the back of yours, and your fingers twitch slightly with the urge to entwine with his, even if part of you is telling you not to do it.

With a jolt, you step away. "Let's wait for this ghost. I'll let the others know about the plan."

There's something in his eyes, an unfamiliar spark within their darkness, that sends heat to your cheeks and a flutter in your stomach. But you turn away, adamant that you won't fall for his charm or whatever this is. You won't. Maybe.

--

"Oh, I've been looking for that!"

You turn as you throw a bag of pasta into your shopping basket, stopping short when you see Lockwood standing on the opposite side of the aisle. He's dressed in his usual shirt-trousers-ridiculously-long-jacket get-up, grinning with a basket hooked over his arm. For a minute, you're confused about what he means, and then you realise which hoodie you're wearing. His grey one.

In your defence, you thought you had picked up your grey Fittes one and had been a little confused by the length of it on you, but now you realise that it is not yours at all but the one he gave you a month ago. The one you keep forgetting to give him.

"Oh, yes. Um, I'll get it back to you soon."

He laughs and says, "You've told me that for weeks now. You might as well keep it now, love."

You glance down at the hoodie, fingers fiddling with the old hem. "I'll get it back to you."

"Whatever you say."

His smile is blinding, and you find yourself smiling, too. It's only a little tug at the corner of your lips, but you can see the happiness in his eyes at the sight of it. It makes something in your chest feel warm and proud and loved.

Loved. The word sends sparks down your spine. When was the last time you felt like that?

"Well, I have to get going," Lockwood says, gesturing to his basket. "George is getting tetchy and we have almost no food left in the house. I'm worried I'll get home and the house will have been destroyed in his rage."

You snort. "Kipps is the same at the Fittes offices. I try and steer clear of him when he's in a mood. He's worse than me."

"Worse than you? Sorry, love, but that's hard to believe."

"Oh, be quiet." You give him a look, and humour glints in his eyes. "I was going to offer to give you warnings of when he's particularly irritated, but I won't, now. You can just suffer."

"You have to admit," he says, "that Kipps is awfully funny when he's mad. He goes red as a tomato."

"He does."

Lockwood's smile softens to something more private, and your heart skips a beat. You want to curse at yourself. It's been a month of spending more cases together, of him walking you home late at night or catching you unawares, and already you feel differently about him. Once, you saw him as nothing more but an arrogant boy whom you couldn't stand, whose very presence had you on edge. Although you enjoyed taking the mick out of him and riling him up, you wanted to keep your interactions to a minimum.

But now?

God, you're not sure what changed. Maybe it's the way he smiles at you like he's proud of you for everything you've done and gone through, and so endlessly happy with you for simply existing. Maybe it's the gentle touches of reassurance and how he has somehow come to know your tells of nervousness or apprehension. Maybe it's how he's come to know you so well, well enough to slip little snacks you like into your kitbag for you to find on later cases when it's just you and your Fittes team.

Even now, you can spot your favourite biscuits in his basket - biscuits you're aware nobody in his house likes.

"I'll see you around," Lockwood says with his enchanting smile.

It brings out a slightly bigger smile from you. "See you, Lockwood."

As he brushes past you, his fingers twitch as if to latch onto yours, and he says, "Call me Anthony from now on, love."

"All right," you murmur. "Anthony."

--

"I'm going to kill you one day."

Lockwood breathes a laugh, peering around the corner of the street. "Who would provide you such amazing entertainment if not for me?"

You draw your rapier. "Anyone. Quite literally anyone. You know, there's this thing called salt, and Kat puts it in Bobby's coffee when he's not looking sometimes. However, now is really not the time for that. Are those Rawbones still looking for us?"

"No."

"Oh, good."

"Well, not really. They've found us."

A horrible wail pierces your ears, one that Lockwood can't hear, and you flinch, glancing past him and to the ghosts that are leering at you. Rawbones, terrible variations of Wraiths, with no skin and bulging eyes. The sound of their teeth grinding sets the hairs on your arms on end., and the glare you send his way is scathing.

"I told you we should've just left!"

"Nonsense." Lockwood's rapier is moving fluidly in front of him, keeping the Visitors at bay. "You're the best agent I know besides myself. We can handle these."

Scowling, you throw a salt bomb at each of the two Rawbones. "Just because we can, doesn't mean we should. We've no way of finding a source!"

"Hey, think about it. If these guys kill us, then at least you won't have had to get your hands dirty killing me. Either way, we can dispatch them easily."

You glower at him and throw another salt bomb, watching the flakes disintegrate parts of the other-light and speckle the ground. "Who would even want to haunt a street with a greasy chippy and stinking public toilets?"

He grins as he looks back at you. "Maybe they were particularly fond of the chippy. Can't beat fish and chips on a Friday night. Are you a mushy peas or gravy kind of girl?"

"At the moment, neither!"

One of the Rawbones takes its chance with his peas-or-gravy distraction and launches towards Lockwood, but it never gets the chance. With all your force, you shove him out of the way, and you both slam into the wall. A harsh chill overtakes you, and you're dimly aware of a tingling pain in your arm, but you ignore it, throwing another salt bomb.

Lockwood takes up holding them back with his rapier, and it's then that you notice your jumper's sleeve steaming, a section of it burned away by ectoplasm. You hadn't been expecting to be out so late and for so long, so you didn't think to bring your thick jacket with you. Regretting your decision, you stare as the skin of your arm starts turning blue.

"Anthony?"

"Mm?" He doesn't look away from the ghosts.

"We - we have an issue."

"Do we? I think we're handling this quite well. My shoulder hurts from slamming into a brick wall, but -"

"Anthony!"

He glances back at you, his eyes immediately drawn to your burned and smoking sleeve, and the blue, swelling skin beneath. He pales momentarily, gritting his teeth, and something overtakes his expression. Anger. But not at you.

"Cover your ears and get back behind that bin over there."

"You can't be serious. It's surrounded by mouldy bananas and -"

"Go!"

The urgency in his voice has you moving before you even realise it. Ducked behind the big bin a few feet away, you peer around it and try to block out the horrible smell. Lockwood is still holding off the pair of Rawbones, but he's holding something in his free hand. It's only when he's running over to you to take cover that it was a magnesium flare.

An explosion shakes the ground, and although you had covered your ears, they still ring loudly. You can't hear what Lockwood is saying, but he drags you away by your good arm and down the street in the opposite direction from the ghosts. They're not gone permanently, but the flare has given you enough time to make your escape.

It's only when you're a few streets away that you both stop to catch your breaths beside an old phone box. You're struggling, feeling as though you're trying to breathe through a single straw, and your skin feels weird. Overly aware of the inner workings beneath it.

"Anthony," you repeat, but your voice isn't as strong.

Your legs are shaking, and you can't feel your arm anymore. You can faintly hear him speaking in the phone box, asking for an ambulance, and then he's in front of you, catching you as you stumble against a shop wall and to your knees. He tears the sleeve off your jumper, preventing any more ectoplasm from getting on your arm. Not that it would make a difference. It's already getting worse.

"You'll be all right, love," he promises, holding you close to his chest as you shiver. "An ambulance is coming. They'll be here soon."

You don't have the energy to speak, but you manage a small nod.

"They'll give you an adrenaline shot, and you'll be fine. You can get right back to insulting me."

His shirt is warm beneath your hand as you grip it weakly. It's a strange sensation feeling your organs slowly stop working. Already, your pulse sounds weaker in your ears.

"Hey, stay with me."

Your eyes find his and, for a moment, everything's all right. They're warm and soft and so, so comforting, and he's giving you that private smile he's taken to sharing with you. His cheeks are rosy, and salt is dusted in his hair like snow. Your lips tug in a meagre attempt at a smile.

"You're an asshat," you manage. "We should've gone the way I said."

He breathes a laugh. "Yeah, we should've."

His hand brushes hair from your eyes, lingering on your cheek for a moment, and you lean into the touch, relishing in the feeling of his pulse against your skin. If you don't think too hard, you can pretend it's yours and that your organs aren't on shutdown.

"Hey, look," Lockwood says gently. "See the lights, love? Ambulance is here to help you. You'll get that adrenaline and you'll be fine."

And you know you will be. His voice is so genuine that you know he's not just saying it to ease your mind. You've seen agents and civilians with ghost-touch, seen their skin turn blue and swell and their lives slowly drain away when the ambulances took too long to reach them. But you'll be okay. As long as Lockwood stays with you.

--

Giving Anthony Lockwood your address was the best idea you've ever had.

He knows where you hide your spare key outside of your flat, so he lets himself in as you lounge on your sofa, watching the news on your old TV. For now, you're out of action, your arm still taking time to recover from ghost-touch, though you're all right in most other senses.

Your arm aches still and has taken to staying a faint shade of blue, and sometimes you have the unshakeable fear that you've not been cured of the ghost-touch, but you always come out of it fine.

The one benefit of being on sick leave is that Lockwood stops by every single day without fail with a coffee from your favourite café, along with a fresh packet of your favourite biscuits and a newspaper. You're not big on reading the newspapers, but you figure he brings them simply because his face is appearing in them more and more, and he wants to show off.

"Oh, you're an angel," you murmur as you take the coffee from his hands, taking a long sip of it and sighing contentedly.

He beams at you, scattering the biscuits onto a plate. He does that so you can gradually eat them over the day without having to struggle to pick them out of the packet, but you're sure he knows that you scoff them all the minute he leaves. As soon as you're back out of your flat and working, you're going to have to get back to your morning runs. Maybe the runs can be you running to the shop to buy more...

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he says, bringing the plate over and setting it on your coffee table. "I'll pretend you've said it because you adore me so and not because I've turned into your slave."

You smile sweetly over the lid of your cup. "You don't have to get me stuff. I've told you this. It's your fault for being a stubborn ass."

He laughs, sitting at the end of the sofa, just beside where your feet are curled up. "And there's the name-calling. Glad to know you're getting better, love. Besides, if I can make life a little easier for you, I may as well. Now you owe me."

"So it's not out of the kindness of your heart, then?" You roll your eyes, taking another sip of coffee. "And I thought we were friends."

Raising an eyebrow, he says, "Just friends?"

For a second, something in your chest constricts and you can't look at him. "I mean, if you really want to say best friends, you can go for it, but I'm not really in the business of -"

"Just shut up and admit you like me already, love. It's agonising watching this play out."

You freeze, mouth slightly opened and eyes wide. Lockwood looks at you with a smug expression, eyes glittering with something - mischief, glee. Swallowing the lump in your throat and closing your mouth, you look away from those dark eyes of his.

Growing up how you did, it's always been hard for you to discern your feelings beyond irritation and anger. The more time you spent with Lockwood, the more things you felt and the more confusing everything became. Finally, you had a friend, someone you could laugh with and explore a part of you that you've never been permitted to. You've found out that you like things you never thought you would, like walking home in the dark, pulled close to someone's side. Shopping with the hopes of seeing the people you know and care for. Reading. Feeling someone's arms around you. Being smiled at in a way that makes you feel warm and mushy inside.

Lockwood has been the one to start the change, to awaken these feelings inside of you. Before him, you were lonely. Horribly so, and your anger was a way for you to mask that. But ever since your time spent together, one particular feeling has always stood out, and you've never been able to understand it.

Love.

You're not really sure what love is, but you know you feel it when he's around. When he grins at you in that special way of his, or when he plays with your fingers on long walks home, trying to figure out what each line and crease means as if he's a palm reader. When he keeps you close to his side and steps in front of you, shielding you from ghosts even though you're more than capable of taking care of yourself.

Love might be the feeling of happiness in your chest when you look at him. It might be the flutter you get in your tummy when his name is spoken, or his skin touches yours.

"I..." You struggle with the words.

But he understands. You know with the way the corners of his lips twitch and his nose crinkles that he understands. You've never been good at communicating verbally, something he's begun to learn.

"I've known for a while," he says. "I'm irresistible, after all."

The humour helps ease the whirlwind in your mind. "You're insufferable."

He leans over, his fingers brushing yours before latching on. You've had this exact conversation before. "You love me for it."

You do. You really do.

So you don't move away when his face nears yours, watching as he slowly comes closer, closer, closer. His eyes are so bright, speckled with so many shades of bronze and copper and gold, and so happy.

No, you do move. You lean forward, and all of a sudden your lips are on his and his hands are pulling your face impossibly closer and you're clutching onto him with your good hand. And you're spiralling, down and down into this feeling people call love, falling onto it like a soft bed you've never had the privilege to sleep in before. There's an ever-so-faint taste of bitter tea on his lips, which are so soft it shouldn't be real.

But it is. It's so, so real, and you're kissing him. He's kissing you. The world melts away. You feel like you're exploding in bursts of colour and flowers and stars until you're nothing more than the air that surrounds you.

And when he pulls away, you smile wider than you ever have before.

[natasharswifey]

Nothing's changed <3

Natasha Romanoff & Transmasc!reader

Requests open <3

Summary:

Natasha finds out your secret

---

Tags: Accidental outing, hurt/comfort

It had been a long day, the mission that was supposed to take you and the team only a day had been stretched out over three and you were just about ready to snap if anyone so much as breathed in your direction for the next few hours.

To be fair, the others had all retired to their rooms as well, most catching up on much needed rest.

You stepped into the comfort of your own room and shut the door, forgetting to lock it behind you with your fatigue.

You hadn't had the time to consider how long you would have to keep your bandages on, but being cramped in a cabin in Siberia with the team didn't exactly give you a chance to let yourself breathe.

As you were halfway through peeling off your shirt to have a much needed shower, you noticed the sound of small footsteps and whipped your head around to see Morgan's small figure peeping around the corner of the doorframe.

“Morgan you have to get out im trying to change!” Normally you wouldnt shout at the her, she was sweet. But you were stressed out and having anyone, including the most adorable kid in a hundered mile radius, snooping around wasn't going to help.

___☆___

Morgan clambers into a tired Natasha’s lap, “Aunty Nat, did [……] get hurt on your adventure?”

“No, honey we all came back safe.”

“But he had a big bandaid on.”

Natasha sighs and ruffles Morgan's hair. You had a history of dealing with injuries alone. Being part of a team, let alone an organisation, was still new to you. Which also meant the idea of having entire medical staff dedicated to dealing with injuries was foreign and definitely unwelcome.

Once after Natasha had suggested getting you checked out at the medbay you ended up disappearing for two days. She'd been worried sick, you were sort of taken under her wing after joining the team. She felt responsible for you.

Although as it turned out Fury was watching over you for the time you were missing. He'd convinced you to get a check up from someone who wasn't connected to S.H.I.E.L.D, or the Avengers.

That was when Natasha had begun to get curious about you.

She had tried getting access to some background information, but it was heavily protected under Fury's specific orders.

She had seen the mention of a girl about your age once or twice, but she assumed it was a relative or something along those lines and had nothing else to go on.

___☆___

Natasha opens the door to your room after knocking, looking worried and doesn't beat around the bush, “Are you hurt?”

“No. Why d’you ask?” you reply, hesitating to look up from the yaoi you were reading.

“Morgan said you had bandages around your chest.”

You turn your phone off and look up at Nat with the realisation, “I'm not hurt.”

She turns around, her worried expression now slightly riddled with confusion, “Then why do you have one on? I told you before, kid you can't hide injuries you'll only injure yourself or...” Natasha trails off as she sees the look on your face.

“Hey, what's wrong?” She sits beside you

“I've been lying to you- to everyone.”

It takes Natasha a second to realise what you mean, but it all made sense now. How cryptic you were about your past, the avoidance of medical staff… the girls’ name she had found.

She doesn't reply immediately, and you assume her silence means anger, “I'm so sorry, I should've just told you- please don't be mad at me, Natasha.

Before you can say anything else you feel her arms wrap around you in a comforting embrace.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Notes

In a kinda confused place rn, but this helped, I hope you enjoyed <33

Also, I love ally Fury why is he lowkey becoming a comfort character 😱😱. I think it's bc of the fic I'm writing actually lmao.

[witchinatree]

magnus protocol episode 26 ramble

the academic victim era continues. i like putting my lil personal bits at the beginning of these i think it humanizes me

ok. i have to pause mid intro song. i just hit my bowl of snap pea crisps and spilled them everywhere and i'm going to tweak

3 of them fell on the floor.. but they're kinda expensive so we don't get to have them very often.. is it worth it..

i ate them i don't care

this has become more about me than the episode i'm gonna unpause it now

we're so back

celia at work core!! she dgaf!!!

MEET HELEN. pls don't be a tory in this universe pls pls pls pls. i didn't fw human helen at all i am less excited than i was about basira but also basira was one of my all time favs forever

hiii aliceeee <333

magnusing is so me tbh if you think about it

so does alice's voice have a slight hint of that effect they use for chester and norris to anyone else or.. like she sounds computer-y and i don't know if it's just the microphone or something real

"take protection" "jesus christ!" "LIKE A BIG KNIFE OR SOMETHING" CRYING. see my mind didn't go there sam so what's up with that sam huh sam

the hell does celia have in her workbag wtf. queen what. it's the trauma "are you sure that thing is legal?" LMFAOOOOOO

ok i don't like you saying nauseas because i'm on TWO medications that make me nauseas and i just ate pls don't be gross

DAMN. i was gonna be like JARED? HOPWORTH? but it's jared 'smith.' gerard jared is kind of like michael

P.E. teachers creep me out but probably because the only one my high school has ever officially had got fired my freshman year for spanking girls in the locker room and they never actually replaced him they just had various sports coaches take over

yea this is freaking me out already i don't like it

oh that's so sad the dad fucking died poor kid omg

wtf was he possessed by the soul of cross country. what is the horror here. ohh running for his life ok thanks

oh so the horror isn't mr jared it's what happens to him i guess. sorry man i shouldn't have called you creepy

this is just how my friends describe morning cross country practice

yeah so i was right to quit cross country in 5th grade then!!! running IS the horror!!!!

NOT THE TAPE RECORDER WTFFFFF IS THIS ERROR. ANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN ARCHIVIST.............................................................................................................................................................................................

AT A LOSS AT A LOSS AT A LOSS AT AT AT. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT

we were right guyss it's an archivist...

IT SAID ARCHIVIST ALICE YES LOCK IN QUEEN LOCK IN SHE'S SOOOOOOOO HEHEHE SHE'S SO SMART I'M IN LOVE WITH U

yes alice connect those dots!!! connect them babe!!!!! i'm scared though to be honest with you

SHE DOESN'T THINK SHE KNOWS DUMBASS. PLEASE LISTEN TO HER OR I'M WRITING ANOTHER HATE POST ABOUT YOU. oh thank you sam i don't hate you

HOW I WOULD'VE EXPECTED HOW I WOULD'VE EXPECTED hey helen

has celia shut down. oh my god she sounds really scared. probably because helen tried to eat her in another universe.

CELIA'S SO SCARED HONEYYYYYYY. wait now she's bringing up the magnus institute LMAOO

bloody big basement lmao it's where they keep the bodies

at least 20 years? it burned down 20 years ago? who's reaching out after it burned what

HELEN'S LAUGH MADE ME JUMP LMFAOOOOO HELP

SAM MEETING JACK???? SAM MEETING JACK??????? THEY'RE SO CUTE WTF OMG ur baby's a tory HAHA

celia you are being watched honeyyy you are you need to connect some dots. alice style. obsessed with her.

calling her baby goblin after that baby episode that celia was mentioned by name in hello. hello.

ok sam let's go no longer being as selfish thanks sam.

awe that's adorable i actually think he's been really nice lately holy shit.

LMAOOO WHY DID WE GET AN AUDIBLE KISS ON EPISODE 26 I THOUGHT THEY DIDN'T LIKE THOSE