#This is the shit he would fucking say in this situation for sure

[midnightquips]

Chaos

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are involved in a friends with benefits situation. But when feelings start to creep in, you’re not quite sure if this situation is the best for you anymore.

Themes: Mutual Pining, Damaged lead TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Suicide,Mentions of alcoholism, Mentions of Sex,Slight Smut, Friends With Benefits, Sexual Content, LanguageSmut Author Note: This is one of my works from AO3 from 6 years ago. I've always loved this and have only posted it as a one shot. I've had the other chapters in the drafts but have never proceeded to post them. Sharing it here maybe to pick up inspiration on it again to continue it and maybe flesh it out.

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Chaos

"Happy Birthday, Y/N."

You look at the small box Bucky handed to you, unsure of how you would react. Your other hand tightens the grip on the blanket wrapped across your chest as he looks at you pensively. This was not normal post-coital procedure for you and Bucky.

Although you have been sleeping together the past few months, you had made sure to keep things casual. Bucky never shared too much about his past, and you thought this was preferable because it didn’t require you to do so as well.

Gifts were definitely a no-no. Sentiments were dangerous. Suddenly, you were worried. Was it only you who had been keeping the illusion of casual?

"How did you know?" your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"You mentioned it last time when you were drunk."

You blush at the memory from two weeks ago when you had accidentally called him after drinking too much at the local bar.

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

You stare at the box again. You hadn't received a gift in years and had already forgotten what it felt like to be given one. Being an orphan since you were 17 and living alone half your life meant that there was no more reason for you to celebrate birthdays. You usually worked on that day anyway, rarely falling on a weekend like today.

"I'm happy you called me today. Might be for a totally different reason... but I’m here." He gives you a soft smile.

You almost felt shitty. Tonight, your only goal was a good distraction from what sometimes lingered on this day. Usually, getting shit-faced drunk was your solution, but since Bucky had come around, you were more than happy to use him to occupy your mind.

"I haven’t gotten a gift in years," you reply softly.

He gives you a confused look. "Weren’t you married? Your husband never gave you a gift?"

You fidget with the ribbon on the box. It was a pretty box, and you almost laughed at the image of Bucky trying to wrap it himself.

"It... it wasn’t a love marriage. It was a relief when he left me."

He takes your hand in his. It felt... intimate. More than when he fucked you. Yet, you didn’t pull away and let his hand linger on yours.

He already knew you had a shitty marriage. You didn’t have to say it—the way you refused to ever talk about it was already an indication. It’s also why he never asked. He wanted to know, of course, but he understood about not pushing. He had numerous experiences he didn’t want to talk about either.

"I’m sorry for asking," he whispers.

"No, it’s okay." It really was.

"Open it," he urges with a soft smile.

You do as you're told, and inside you find a silver necklace with a snowflake pendant.

"It’s beautiful, Bucky."

"It’s just... snow reminds me of you," he explains, as if it was needed.

You understood. Snow reminded you of him too. How he ended up in your small café during a particularly snowy day and continued to come back every day after.

How you had slipped in the back alley on black ice, and thankfully the snow had caught your fall, or else the accident would have been much worse. He was there to carry you inside the café and help you with your broken ankle, snow everywhere on his jacket.

How he first fucked you by the windowsill of your apartment after he rushed to you during a blizzard, worried because the café had been closed for days while you were wallowing/celebrating after your divorce finally went through. You hadn’t really been thinking straight, and you jumped at him the moment you saw him on your doorstep.

God, you didn’t even realize how much Bucky was there for you and felt incredibly ashamed of how you treated him. A body to keep your bed warm.

Of course, you also considered him a friend. Perhaps the only one, and you were afraid of how it had happened unconsciously. You didn’t like getting attached to people, and the more you thought about it, maybe... Bucky was really more than just a friend to you.

Nervousness started to take over Bucky as your silence continued.

"Y/N?"

"I think... we should stop sleeping together." You look away from him.

His face fell. "I’m... I’m sorry. I can take the gift back. I didn’t mean—"

You turn to him to interrupt. "It’s not the gift, Bucky. The gift is wonderful. You are wonderful. But... I just don’t think what we have is something that I want anymore."

You didn’t want him, he thought. Of course, who could? The self-pity party had started inside him, berating himself on how he was a broken shell of a man. How he had nightmares that could drive a regular man insane. A history one man cannot burden. Now, even a job that no woman could bear to stand in the long run.

You deserved something better. He understood.

You observe his reaction, trying to figure out what was going through his head.

Attachments have never brought any good to your life. Everyone you let in hurt you. Everyone you loved left.

His expression was empty. Then and there, you discovered why Bucky was the one attachment you should never have. You cannot read him, and that was a fact you cannot ignore.

"I understand," he says calmly as he turns around slowly, sitting at the edge of the bed.

You see his shoulders slump as his back faces you before he moves to get up. You had a feeling he misunderstood what you meant, but you didn’t think there would be a point to rectify it. He was better off away from you anyway.

Bucky deserves someone better. Someone that could love him the way he should be loved. Someone warm, kind, and nurturing. He needed someone that could help him heal. He did not need another damaged person like you. He has had a hard life as it is.

You decide to get dressed as well, the awkwardness starting to perpetuate between you. The silence is deafening.

Bucky turns to you after he is fully dressed. He looked so handsome in his grey Henley and jeans, you thought.

You proceed to put on a loose shirt that fell high on your thigh, your hair disheveled and lips plump from your recent lovemaking. His hands itched to drag you back into his arms again, wrap your legs around his waist, and just bury himself deep within you once more. Keep you under him all night.

You were so beautiful to him, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest knowing he could never bask in your presence again.

"I..." he starts.

'I love you,' his mind screams, but the words are stuck in his throat.

"...care about you," he instead says.

A lump in your throat is forming. Oh God, why was this suddenly becoming so hard? Your throat feels tight, and for a moment, you almost believed your breathing would just stop.

"I care about you too," you admit.

You didn’t understand yourself why you said this, but it was too late now. It was a touch move.

This was the only thing Bucky needed to hear before he strides up to you in three steps, hands gently grabbing you by the neck as he presses his forehead against yours.

"Don’t push me away. Please," he begs.

Bucky was not above it. He had begged so many times in his life. FOR his life. As the Winter Soldier. As himself. It had never been effective with Hydra, but he would not hesitate to beg you over and over because you were as important as his life.

You bite your lip. Tears were rising up within you, a sob rising from your throat, so you close your eyes as a last defensive measure. "I can’t. You have to go."

Bucky trembles at your voice. A weak command, but a command all the same.

You push at his chest, shaking yourself away from his hold. He has to leave while you are still holding on by a thread. He has to before the dam within you breaks. No one has seen you weak for years, and this would not be the day.

"Go, Bucky. Leave," you say one more time, a bit firmer.

Swallowing hard, you look at him, and somehow deep inside you, there is this small part that hopes he’ll continue fighting for you, continue fighting for whatever this was.

When he finally nods at you, it takes all your will not to stop him. Not to tell him you made a mistake and that you’re only scared. You keep your mouth pressed in a tight line, afraid of the words that might spill, of the sob that might slip.

You watch him take his jacket and head out of the bedroom. Unable to control your feet, you find yourself rushing and standing in the living room to see him continue walking away.

'Don’t look back. Don’t look back,' you think.

He pauses as his hand reaches the doorknob and, because he was Bucky, of course he looks back at you one last time.

"You were my safe place. With you, I felt like me again. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the same for you."

At this, your walls crumble, but by the time the tears fall, Bucky had already closed the door behind him.

[teruthecreator]

gimme 1 and 17 dialtown ☎️

hiiiii griffin i hope you're having a good time at graduation. probably not since u sent this ask but hey man i get i too was on my phone during graduation. anyway

1. the character everyone gets wrong

oh boy where do i start with this. i mean like. tee bee aych i feel like most people have a fundamental misunderstanding of randy. like he's not pathetic for pathetics sake he kind of intentionally puts himself in the worst situations imaginable to feed his worldview of everything being bad for Him specifically and no one else. the fandom kind of babygirls him? like treats him softer and generally makes him more of a shy uwu guy rather than a person stuck deeply in his own fractured worldview that is intentionally letting himself get worse. like randy's whole route is about making him realize his happiness is His Choice, His Decision and not a work of fate/luck/unseen outside force that he has to relinquish control to, and everyone just goes "yeah but what if we make him sopping wet uwu yaoibait guy with oliver".

speaking of oliver i feel like EEEEEEEEEVERYBODY makes him way too wacky and not actually grounded. like, despite his many odd mannerisms and such, he is still one of the few characters who has a job and is able to Maintain That throughout his route (though, of course, in the good route it changes). oliver is a pretty stable guy, all things considered. sure he talks funny and has a general inclination for the ridiculous, but a lot of people kinda coke him up and let him run loose like he's a wild animal. and i think it's more fun if you ground him in a place of reality and then let him play. instead of being the guy to drag people into stuff, let him be a part of a scenario and see what his reactions are. much more fun. also i feel like a lot of people forget how, like, awkward he is? like he tends to apologize when he says really outlandish/forward shit and seems to view Himself as a "freak" in a way that would suggest he's aware of how he stands in comparison to most people. like dude knows he's weird, and that's not Always a good thing.

and yknow what while im talking about the main dateables i would be remiss to bring up karen because like. WOW. i mean this is a problem with most fandom spaces unfortunately but the way people straightman her is so fucking sad. like people forget she literally quit her job on a Whim because someone vaguely suggested leaving and she went full throttle. karen is impulsive and karen makes bad decisions based on rash judgments and she is generally not that hard to goad into doing something stupid. i mean, she agreed to a date with gingi. twice! that takes some real loose grips on impulse control to just go along with that. like sure she is a bit more deadpan than, say, oliver, but she does have a sense of humor. she likes to use sarcasm! she has wit she has sass. also she is like. INSANELY jealous and i feel like a lot of people dont hone in on that aspect of her being the reason why she is sometimes so rash. she is fiercely protective of those she considers "hers". she wanted to Kill A Giraffe because gingi liked it. she is jealous she is rash she is impulsive PLAY IN THE SPACE STOP MAKING HER THE DEADPAN STRAIGHTMAN ITS SO BORINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

okay that's enough of that but just know i could've done it for every character

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

maybe i am insanely ridiculously biased but there should more content of mingus and norm. or just mingus. or norm. those two are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO fascinating and i feel like people kinda gloss over that. like they're similar beasts in their rampant paranoia and flawed perspective on callum/the world and they butt heads about it like crazy. generally their dynamic is one of the most interesting parts of chapter 3 to me and i feel like there really isn't enough chapter 3-focused content out there. we should talk about these guys more. and if i have to stand on a podium and take a stand there should be more content of MINGUS. girl is the driving antagonist of AN ENTIRE ARC. BASICALLY THE WHOLE GAME IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT. AND NOOOOOO I DON'T SEE HER ANYWHERE. IS IT BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T FIT IN YOUR FOUND FAMILY DYNAMIC? IS IT BECAUSE SHE'S A WOMAN? I DON'T KNOW I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DIRECT YOU PEOPLE TOWARDS HER BUT I WANT TO. if my brain was functioning at the capacity it was last july i would've written ten million fics about her i have so many days. alas, i don't know if they'll ever happen... (but if people were curious i would gladly share)

but in a slightly more biased take, i think there needs to be more normingus in the world. how we were the chosen few to proclaim the good word of normingus is beyond me. like don't get me wrong i'm happy tryt had its impact but JESUS CHRIST I SHOULD NOT BE THE MOST POPULAR. SOMEONE ELSE COME TRY AND PLAY IN THE SPACE WITH ME. I CAN GIVE YOU IDEAS. I CAN GIVE YOU SO MANY IDEAS.

[inexplicifics]

A Witcher fic for @domaystic prompt 7, story time, also on AO3!

“So,” Coën says.

Lambert groans and closes his eyes, wondering if he can pretend he’s still meditating.

“Admittedly, it is a hazard of our profession to end up covered in blood, mud, and more objectionable materials,” Coën says, with a lilt to his voice that says he knows he’s being a little shit. Oh, sure, Griffins are polite and honorable and gentlemanly - bullshit. They just sound all fancy, is all.

Lambert should know, he’s been sleeping with one of ‘em for nigh on a decade now.

“But how, my dear Wolf, did you manage to end up covered in honey?” Coën asks.

Lambert sighs. “You’re not gonna believe it if I tell you.”

“On the contrary, I know full well that you end up in the most marvelously unlikely situations,” Coën replies. “But if you wished to invite me to lick you clean, perhaps you might consider not suffering from a head wound at the same time as being honey-coated.”

Lambert sticks out his tongue. “It’s healed.” Which is why he was meditating instead of, oh, scrubbing the fucking honey off his armor and clothes and skin and - well. Everything.

“Hence my not being overwrought at your current blood-and-honey state,” Coën agrees. “But I am absolutely dying of curiosity as to how you acquired so much honey without an attendant number of beestings.”

Lambert heaves another huge sigh and opens his eyes. “Fine. Come help me get this shit off me and I’ll explain.”

Coën nods and rises, offering Lambert a hand up, and considerately doesn’t prod for answers until they’re both standing hip-deep in the stream, with Lambert’s armor stacked on the bank. Lambert is scrubbing himself down with handfuls of clean sand while Coën works assiduously at his sticky clothing.

“So,” Lambert says, gritting his teeth as his fingers catch in his hair. “Got a contract for a leshen.”

Coën hums interestedly.

“Y’know how most leshens have wolves?”

Coën hums again, nodding.

“This one had bees.”

Coën’s eyebrows go up. “Bees without stings?”

“Yes, actually.” Lambert shrugs. “Big fuckers - coulda carried off chickens if they wanted to, I bet. No stingers at all, though. Couldn’t do anything but run into me.”

“Fascinating,” Coën murmurs.

Lambert nods. “Honestly they were. Wonder if they’re still alive - maybe I could bring a couple back to Kaer Morhen, if I can catch ‘em.” He shrugs. “Anyhow, the fuckin’ leshen was this enormous thing, must’ve been thirty feet around. Got me with a branch when one’a the bees latched onto my fucking face.”

Coën winces.

Lambert doesn’t say that he thought he was going to die, looking up at the leshen towering over him, blood sheeting down his face, bees swarming around him. He doesn’t say that he knew there was no fucking way he could hack its head off before it smashed him. He doesn’t say that he wished for one bitter moment that he’d waited for Coën to arrive at their planned meeting point before he took the contract.

Instead he says, “Got a good solid whack in at it, and it turned out the damn thing was hollow.”

Coën’s eyes go wide. “Hollow?”

Lambert nods. “Like a fucking barrel.”

Coën tilts his head, regarding Lambert thoughtfully. “And let me guess - it was filled with honey?”

Lambert nods. “Full up to the fucking top. Soon as there was a split in the side, the whole damn leshen just shattered.”

He has rarely been as bewildered as he was watching a leshen disintegrate in a deluge of splinters and honey. It just…split, slowly at first and then too fast for even witcher eyes to follow, from the point where his sword had gouged it, and then he was being drenched in honey, mouth and nose and ears full of it, the force of the impact driving him to his knees in the suddenly sticky mud.

“A leshen full of honey,” Coën says slowly. “That is entirely unique in my experience.”

“Mine too,” Lambert agrees, and ducks underwater for a moment to rinse his hair. “Weirdest fucking thing I’ve seen in a while.”

“Would that I had seen it, too,” Coën says, and steps closer, curling a hand around the back of Lambert’s head and meeting his eyes squarely. “Next time, wait until I can join you, for a contract like that.”

Lambert swallows hard, remembering that bitter realization that he might never see Coën again because he was too damn impatient. “I will,” he promises.

“Good,” Coën says, and kisses him.

The last remnants of the honey taste far sweeter on Coën’s lips.

[lotus--pond]

something I very much admire about bek's characters is their ability to be upset and angry in a way that while it may make the audience upset, it is fitting for their characters and ultimately makes sense from their pov

like: (using the bound guys as examples I'm sure there were times with Ari but I did not follow her lore as closely)

Sylph was very upset with Vast after she took his magic. and he had every right to be. Because, yes, while the audience understands that there was nothing she could have done because she was poisoned and could not have fought back, Sylph doesn't and unlike the audience, Sylph was permanently stripped of such a core part of himself and not only that, but part of his safety.

If the island fell, he wouldn't have been able to do anything, if he needed to get away from something he would have been basically helpless against another avian. and in a world and situation like his where the avicane was around and being a constant danger, that's fucking terrifying. And even if someone pursuing him couldn't fly, because of how weak his legs are, he's also at a severe disadvantage.

so yeah, I love Vast and I understand why she had to do what she did, more of her thought process, background that influences her decisions, and the whole context of the relationship between her and Viviana, but Sylph does not. I also understand that what she did harmed Sylph in such an intrinsic way that even if there was no worse option, that didn't mean what she did was good. Didn't mean that she was automatically forgiven or stripped of all responsibility.

and even recently with Vesper, her being distrustful of Aura, while it is obviously not true because we have audience privileges and can see from so many characters individual POVs, makes sense for her character.

she's been shown to be distrustful and not-particularly nice when Ev isn't around. She's also refusing to believe that there isn't a way off this planet. So when Aura says that their ship got pulled in by the gravity spike not only does that sound implausible because of what they know about Rionear and Rionear ships, but its scary because that means that the forces pulling them into this planet may as well be unstoppable with their current means. (I think it was mentioned in passing by Aura that the Cassion was running on an experimental core, which is why it wasn't able to get out of the gravity spike but my memory is shit so don't quote me)

Because if a Rionear ship with a starcore couldn't outrun it, how were they going to build a ship from scratch that could? Especially when most of the people there have no idea how to even start building a ship.

and (props to that other post where I talked about this I forget the name of the person but they were bringing up a good point like this) Vesper doesn't hold high opinions of many others (with the exception of Ev) and knowing Rionear ships she assumes Rionear should be confident and secure because they have like. the fastest ships. But Aura is not confident nor secure, and that seems strange to her.

And she's not wrong that aura is hiding something, she's just wrong about what star is hiding. She thinks they have this master plan or are hiding their true personality or crashed here on purpose, when in reality star is trying to hide Navi to keep it safe.

And star believes starself to be lying, star believes star is doing this and being nice and doing favors for people to bargain for protection for star and Navi. Which also probably makes Vesper think star is lying.

was Vesper in the right to go about it the way she did? no, she was being very rude and mean. Does it make sense knowing only what she knows? yes.

in both cases, is it upsetting? yeah. we know characters on all sides of the argument and have the full context of their lives and personalities and situations. Is it simultaneously fitting character wise? yes.

idk I just think its neat

[ghostinapool]

HELL YEAH I LOVE REBLOGS LIKE THIS THANK YOU!!!

okay okay so. i think that they would be, and let me elaborate on this

we all know that two-face and the very first robin did not have a great relationship, especially referring to the time when harvey beat him tf up with a bat

AND while obviously two-face and the second robin likely had their moments, id like to think he was nicer, for some reason. liked him a little more. AND there are some comic panels that kind of show a sillier dynamic between them, such as that one comic when jaybin was like 'yo take me as a hostage' and two-face proceeds to take him outside and just:

(and yes im aware that right after this two-face holds a gun to him until he escapes by slamming on the brakes and flying out the car BUT THEY DONT GO BACK AND SHOOT HIM SO!)

ANYWAYS my point is, i feel like they had a bit of a sillier dynamic, and jason likely knew about his and bruce's history too. but because of this more fond dynamic, i like to think jason, when he became red hood, as he slowly began to regain his memories, he vaguely began to recall that he didn't entirely hate two-face, and he realized he didn't feel UNSAFE around him

so i like to think that jason maybe just. found his fuckin address one day and just showed up to his apartment, likely drenched from the rain, and was just like "yo." and two-face was like "the fuck???" and jasons like "so weird thing i knew you as a kid, i used to be a robin?"

and two-face is like ready to kill him at this point but SOMEHOW they find out (either jason tells or they realize or smth but idk tbh) that he is that particular little robin and is reluctantly like "aight come in ig..."

and if they didnt know batman's identity as bruce wayne previously i feel like they'd find out through jason, and harvey especially like is like really. complex feelings abt it because i have this whole headcanon that they were really close throughout highschool and college and shit before he spiraled. so thats how he would find out about everything i think

as for jason taking on the red hood identity, i imagine theyd both be quite puzzled by it tbh. like they're like "why?" and jasons just like "for the bit" and (after asking what 'the bit' means) i feel like harvey would interpret it as jason sort of trying to either cope with the entire joker situation, or as him like. taking charge of what hes lost, in a way? im not sure how to put it into words, but like, taking an old identity of the joker and trying to make his own thing with it, which, to some extent he gets because he likely knows that jason has no idea who he is anymore, both psychologically and literally because amnesia, so he'd try to understand

as for twos, twos i feel like would be a little weirder about it. twos i picture to be a little more on the confused side in general, so he likely, at first at least, wouldn't really grasp it. he knows jason is angry at the joker, so why take on that persona? to try and mock him, maybe? was it because he was angry at batman? it might cause a bit of conflict for twos, but as i previously mentioned, he sees a lot of himself in jason with the anger and the loneliness and all that, so he too, would try to understand, he just... would have a lot harder of a time with it than harvey, and would probably say the wrong thing a lot of the time (mostly at first) that resorts in bickering

but yeah, i love their little uncle nephew dynamic. a lot of it is very heavily fuelled/also kind of inspired by @reginalusus' art of those two, and they've been my favourites for a good while now

also the judge. i have made so much shit about the judge oh my gosh but thats a whole different story

in conclusion, i believe that two-face genuinely really helped out jason during that rough patch in his life aaaaaand they should interact more yes

so im a really big two-face fan right, and my dearest evelyn keeps telling me i should start yapping about him on tumblr and join the like 6 two-face fans

so with that being said, im currently thinking about the dynamic between two-face and jason todd

i have this headcanon where they worked together as crime bosses while jason was still freshly red hood, i like to think even harvey took him in when he didnt really have anywhere to go after he was out of the league and on his own

especially cause like, they would get him. twos (thats what i call harveys other main alter, some ppl call him scarvey-) esp would get the strong anger all too well, i feel like. the hatred, the detestment towards someone you're meant to love who has (even if unintentionally) let you down (cough harvey)

they would understand the struggle with strong lapses in memory, the feeling of loneliness, feeling like you dont belong when you were destined to be so much more.

UGH i need more content of these guys 🙏

[jacksonekennedy]

Jack held his breath, patiently (and also impatiently) waiting to see this tattoo. She lifted her shirt, exposing the tattoo along her ribcage. Jack smiled, wide and bright, leaning forward. He had to physically tell his hand no, you can’t just reach over and … touch her fucking ribs.  But he wanted to. God, he wanted to. His skin felt like it was burning up.

Somehow, he was able to retain the story behind the tattoo, even though his ears were ringing. Somehow. It felt like every little thing that he learned about Alice only made him fall even harder. Because that’s what was happening — there was no denying it. He was falling for Alice Shaw, no doubt about it.

The ribs. She was a writer. She seemed familiar with religion. God had made Eve from Adam’s rib. Maybe in some ancient world, there was a part of Jack that helped create Alice.

Jack blinked hard, attempting to banish away the thoughts of a time in the near future where he could press his mouth against the flesh there, capturing the tattoo in his mouth. Just because. Just because he could.

“You’re incredible,” was all that Jack could say. If he said anymore… he didn’t trust himself to behave. He smiled again, only snapping out of his daze when Alice lowered her shirt and adjusted her hem. “That’s so cool. The coolest tattoo I’ve ever seen. And the coolest story behind it.”

Suddenly, Jack had this desperate urge to learn everything he could about fossils and evolution and what religious theories people did and didn’t believe in and how it had influenced science at the time. He hated himself for not knowing it all already.

Proof that life isn’t static. Birds are everywhere. 

Words that would stick with Jack — probably for the rest of his life. A nice little mantra that he could dwell on during the particularly difficult moments and find comfort in knowing Alice had said them to him.

Sweet, perfect Alice.

It felt a little ironic. Alice seemed to be repeating his own words back to himself, but the situation was different. Not to lessen Alice’s own strife, but Jack felt totally irredeemable. He was too old to be doing the stupid shit he’d done. He was married with a kid at home and still decided to get behind the wheel of a fucking car while totally shitfaced. Not only that, but he was a public figure. It wasn’t a mistake that he’d made in private. The whole world knew.

Or at least, it felt that way.

Yet, Alice seemed so sure about him. So sure that he would’ve been kind to her, no matter when they’d met. Jack smiled a little sadly because he wanted that to be true. He wanted to be a good person.

“It’s just — I’m thirty-one. Nearly thirty-two. Too old to be doing the shit I was doing.”

Jack sighed. The wounds still felt very fresh. Sometimes, Jack couldn’t get out of bed at all. He wished that he felt numb instead. And when he felt that way, he took something to help.

“I know everyone makes mistakes, but I … lost everything. It feels that way. I know you did, too. I’m obviously not comparing, or anything. It’s just …”

Jack didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say. Maybe because he’d never really said it out loud.

“I lost Maddy because of it.”

There was a big lump in his throat.

Jack didn’t cry. Jack didn’t cry. Jack didn’t cry.

He swallowed.

“She wasn’t my kid. Not biologically. Her real dad wasn’t in the picture. And things between me and her mom hadn’t been good in a long time. Like, since we got married, basically, but Maddy. She was like the best fucking kid ever. And she loved me. And I loved her. She was my kid. I know I just said she wasn’t, but I was raising her like she was. She felt like my kid.”

His eyes stung with emotion. But Jack didn’t cry.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye or anything. I went to jail for the weekend. Couldn’t bail out until Monday. When I got home, everything was gone. I knew it was always going to end between me and Sophia. I think if I hadn’t been so … fucked up all the time near the end… I don’t know. Maybe I could’ve still seen Maddy now.”

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. Frustrated. Hurting. But it felt good to tell Alice these things, even when it felt like an old wound splitting open all over again.

“I had a kid at home, and I got fucked up and decided to drive. For no reason. I could’ve killed someone. Or myself. And I had these fucking pills and some coke on me. I just fucked everything up. Maddy’s gonna grow up and I'll just be this blurry memory to her, when she was my whole fucking heart, and if she ever looks me up, that’ll probably be the first thing she sees.”

Sometimes, Jack wished that he’d wrapped his car around a tree that night.

The only thing that kept Jack from fully losing it was the warmth at his cheek from where Alice's hand had been.

"It feels like I'm gonna walk around with this hole in my chest for the rest of my life."

Man, that was cute— Alice's eyes are still blurry with tears, but it's impossible to miss the way Jack's ears flush, dusted with pink following his eager question.

'Really? Can I see?'

“Sorry. You don’t have to show me. I just don’t remember seeing it.'

A chuckle escapes her.

"That's fine. It's just kinda hard to see if my arm isn't—"

Swallowing, Alice reaches for the hem of her shirt, tugging it upwards, raising her elbow simultaneously as she bares her rib-cage to Jack. It wasn't the largest tattoo, the majority of it covered by her arm. Alice ducks down to examine it rather than meet Jack's eyes.

Sure, he'd seen her in a bikini— but still.

Alice inhales, exhales, watches the delicate fossil bones expand and contract. "I had to do a lot of research for the scholarship, about 18th century science ... I ended up seeing this in person, actually, on a family vacation. But anyway— this was discovered only a few years after the Origin of Species was published. Most people didn't put any stock into the theory, or else they found it sacrilegious. Atheistic scientists didn't really believe that species could change slowly over time either. But then came this. The Berlin Specimen."

Alice uses her index finger to point out the soft, stippled ink surrounding the bone, her lips breaking into a grin.

"Feathers!"

Her gaze flits back down, but the smile is still attached.

"Those are full flight feathers and everything. Proof of concept. Proof of a transitional species, dinosaur into bird ...." Alice inhales. "Proof that life isn't static."

"Dinosaurs died out, but you look around and ... birds are everywhere."

Something warm washes over her face, and at last she drops the sweatshirt, huffing in self-conscious amusement. Heavy-handed with the metaphors, she knew. Change and growth, in the most literal since. But Alice's remembers being so struck by the delicate bones of the old, old, Archaeopteryx— they'd almost seen to glow in the muesum light. And then several years later, that imagery seemed to call out to Alice, feeling raw and different and vulnerable in all the changes she'd made.

"I just thought it looked really cool."

She hoped it didn't seem too silly to Jack. With a rough clearing of her throat, she smooths the hem.

'I think I’m where you were in college. Feeling some of the stuff that you felt.'

And— oh.

If that's true, now all Alice can think about is how badly she wishes she could somehow seize Jack and pull him out of that place. Because it's all just despair. And self-hatred. And feeling like your body was being puppeted by someone else; by something else.

It was the worst feeling in the world.

'There’s this really sick part of me that is glad all of this came out though.'

A crease forms between Alice's eyebrows, mouth softening as she listens.

'It felt like I was lying to people for a long time. Pretending to be someone I’m clearly not. Someone I was never capable of being. I tried to play the part. It didn’t work out, but… I don’t know. I think it’ll be fine one day, but I also think that maybe it won’t. At least I met you.'

Lying to people.

Pretending to be someone wasn't capable of being. Feeling like an imposter, a fraud, simply because he was struggling— simply because of a mistake, a chemical dependency that was hard to shed, and even harder to keep at bay.

"But that's not true,"

Alice hums.

"You're still really good at your job, Jack. You're still incredibly smart— still Ivy League educated, still one of the youngest congressmen ever to be elected. You aren't suddenly any less smart, or any less good at deciding policy, or any less good at speaking to others, making them feel heard."

There's something twisting in her chest; it hurts. Despite it all, Jack was just happy he'd met her.

"But ... I mean beyond all that? You're still a good person. You're still really kind. And you're still way too funny for your own good."

Alice huffs, lips quirking.

"If I met you six months ago, or I met you tomorrow, or I met you four years ago— it'd all be the same. You'd still be really kind to me. I'd still feel ... so strongly pulled to you. And appreciative."

Once again— it's as if Alice can't help it. Her hand extends again. Her fingers comb through his pair, pausing to press down against his scalp for a long second.

"If you decide you do want your life to look different, and not go back to the way it was, that's fine. But you already said this to me, kinda? About mistakes not negating everything else about you?"

A tremulous breath. The worst part of it was— Alice knew how it felt. She knew how deeply these thoughts wound around your subconscious, like a choking vine, and she knew untangling it took forever; sometimes, in the midst of that forever, it seemed futile. Effort just seemed pointlessly painful! Like a self-injury. Alice knows how much it hurts, how excruciating it is, and she thinks absently she'd absorb all of Jack's pain and go through everything all over again if it meant Jack wouldn't have to bear it.

"It was like that for me too, for a really long time. Thinking that things are just terrible forever."

Alice's thumb— careful and slow — rubs against Jack's cheekbone, silent assurance before her hand drops.

[squireofgeekdom]

Oh no. Don't let me start plotting out a Leverage Redemption / Moon Knight crossover. I don't need more wips. Help.

[arolesbianism]

Finally fixating on some nugget relationships that aren't horrible for everyone I love friendship <3

[michi-chelle]

the organization haru from no thank you!!! works for is the same one behind the antics of room no. 9, change my mind

[narwhalandchill]

okok so ya know that post i mentioned i was writing on some of the harbinger related leaks that cropped up recently and then mobile fucked me over by publishing the post early by gaslighting me with a "post" button that Clearly read "save" (draft) so i deleted it but managed to rescue the text that was there and promised to finish it and post it later and then its been 12 years anyway? yeah right 😭 Oh well.

BUT. finally. might as well do the thing now in honor of childes bday at the very least KJWJKWDJK. sorry it took this long lmao

jsyk these leaks predate our current natlan beta datamines and some of the questionable story leaks floating around so like, natlan plot wise they dont have shit to do w em there & not bringing up any that ive seen. but ya

(so . attempt 2: recent lazzo VA character direction leaks for the harbingers mostly in relation to childes role in the overall plot. bit ranty and gets Long but idek what yall expected. + ig just potential long term plot implications from these leaks given its the harbingers beware)

aka: mostly concerning the faction stuff + pulcinellas directions for now . if u havent seen em uhhhh

basically tldr: according to (and assuming its not outdated) some information accessed by leakers recently originally provided for the VAs applying to voice the harbingers in lazzo, the group is allegedly split between two factions of "conservatives" and "radicals" . like thats the first thing

now as to what those labels rly mean ppl were overall speculating that it might be sth along the lines of. conservatives as the tsaritsa loyalists who stand united and for the organization and her majestys goals above all (OR alternatively just like. a more cautious take on How to approach the toppling celestia deal) VS those whose true ambitions, loyalty and methods they are willing to turn to are more of a wild card situation . and their allegiances are equally volatile in turn . & i will say imo the radicals are also most likely much less of an united group compared to the conservatives given uhhhhhhh. well you will see

so conservatives are: capitano, columbina, pulcinella, sandrone

radicals are: dottore, arle (see the "radicals might not like each other that much"), pantalone

pierro is neutral, childe is unknown/undecided according to the leaks HOWEVER. his positioning next to the radicals in the shot of lazzo with the harbingers standing around signoras coffin split along those same faction lines found in the leaks may indeed suggest something Interesting regarding his penultimate choice . if it Indeed is intended to be meaningful that he as an "unknown" just happened to take That side of the coffin alongside the 3 confirmed radicals according to this info . like how Curious

And i just. okay okay i have to be Honest theres like. SUCH a toxic childish taking-fandom-grievances-too-seriously part to me eyeing the possibility of ajax turning out to be a radical thats just like. dawei lets this happen and i WILL be the WORLDS most obnoxious fucking bitch about it bc . Listen

i. Have. ALWAYS. thought it obvious as FUCK . that a guy whose ambition WILL NOT stop until it is the very WORLD that lies defeated at his feet. will NEVER be satiated by what the fatui can offer him . like if he really is a radical. i can CONFIDENTLY state that i saw that shit coming in TWENTY FUCKING TWENTY and that Every single doubter owes me So much fucking money 💀💀💀💀💀💀 jkjk but. Duuuude. ever since this faction stuff dropped.... i cant stop thinking abt it

like i just. cannot stand the way its been turned into this . INDOMITABLE 100% factual absolute Truth that CANNOT be challenged. in the fandom. that childe is a tsaritsa fanboy loyalist devout worshipper who couldnt even fuckimg FATHOM leaving his allegiance to her behind . when its been . SPELLED OUT to yall in his fucking profile SINCE 1.1 .

bc like. Listen up. Repeat after me. ik its scary and new after 4 years of Exclusively hearing takes where like childe would rather spontaneously combust to the beat of snezhnayas national anthem while begging for repentance than ever stop taking orders from uhhhh a god. Who he definitely worships devoutly as a god despite 0 evidence on any religious piety on his part Trust (like. ive. Always thought his voiceline for her has been the opposite? its very much. Not how youd speak of divinity. his regard for her is Personal and relates to the tsaritsa as an individual, not a god inherently deserving of worship)

like ik this is a big thing and scary but just. Say the words with me here. It only stings once .deep breaths. okay 1 2 3

"But becoming Tartaglia was far from his end goal. To someone who sought to conquer the world, this was but a tiny step in his journey."

YUP.

BECOMING TARTAGLIA. BECOMING A HARBINGER. SWEARING AN OATH OF LOYALTY TO THE TSARITSA. A TINY. STEP. A TINY FUCKING STEP. AND HES BEEN AWARE OF IT BEING LIKE THIS THE ENTIRE TIME.

THIS HAS BEEN TEXT FOUND IN GAME THERE FOR NEARLY FOUR FUCKING YEARS NOW . AND PPL STILL THINK AJAX ISNT CAPABLE OF SURPASSING AND ABANDONING THE TSARITSA THE SECOND THE BENEFITS THEY OFFER HIM FALL SHORT OF THE EXPONENTIAL GROWTH OF HIS POWER AND AMBITION AND WHAT IT TAKES TO SATIATE HIM .

like im SORRY contrary to maybe popular belief and despite my persistent frustrations w this fandoms approach to ajax sometimes i Do in fact feel actively mean and unreasonably harsh calling 97% of childe "fans" functionally illiterate or at the very least intentionally obtuse to the point its beyond fucking parody in how ridiculous it gets but like. if THIS isnt what a complete and utter failure of basic reading comprehension is I DONT KNOW WHAT IS . like. DUDE 😭😭😭😭😭😭 what IS IT with these people its like genuinely fucking incomprehensible to me how CRITICAL shit about his character like this goes COMPLETELY ignored as if it hasnt been established since Day fucking one its unreal . Unreal 💀

and like. i get bitchy and snappy abt it i know its not the best look always but man its sth thats genuinely upsetting to me too bc . THIS is the fucking dude thats possessed me for the last 4 years THIS is what i love about him his potential to surpass Every Single Boundary that he has begun his journey confided within. that he will transcend it all and surpass his own limits with sheer fucking willpower over and over again until even the few he truly idolized and respected like the tsaritsa and capitano are suddenly so distant and irrelevant compared to the heights He has reached out for in his hunger....... its so peak like THIS is whats had me in a death grip for all this time

and like. for THAT guy that mr childe ajax tartaglia the REAL thing to barely even. Exist. in the minds of such a majority of the fandom its just fucking crushing sometimes. like i wanna appreciate all this abt him man i wanna share all my brainrot abt him and how this dude consumes my every waking thought but then borderline every single comment i see and popular take on him is just oh my pookie wookie babie girl would Never be able to betray tsaritsa ever etc etc etc and just.... Sigh

anyway overshare over sorry for that. yeah my ADHD makes me irrationally attached to my hyperfixations its kinda cringe .

do catch me kissing this man on the mouth Immediately the second his ambition surpasses the fatui and he goes beast mode fr fr on Everyone tho 🥰🥰 dyke license lost forever but itll be worth it

also real talk im like fairly convinced at least like 78% of the omgggg hes forever loyal to the tsaritsa gang are mostly like stuck in this mindset of like. omgggg hed Never Betray Her bc he doesnt like those who break promises uwu and its like. since when did the possibility of ajax outgrowing the stage where the fatui offer him anything worthwhile automatically equate to him betraying her wholesale and completely dropping any and all respect he had for her or sth. like yeah i do agree to an extent that it could end up p uncharacteristic (at least w/o proper plot setup or reasoning) for him to pull off like a complete disney twist villain backstab out of nowhere there but??? thats not rly whats going to automatically happen either???

(nvm that like a considerable portion of these same ppl were prolly writing "omgg ajax my poor victim MUST betray the evil tsaritsa" fics in 1.1 when everyone had the idea in their heads that he hates his job and is only doing it bc his family is held hostage and is also 17 bc of certified english localization moment. but i digress this is just unreasonably petty and im being a loser by not letting this shit go 2 this day💀💀)

bc like. if you ask me. the Interesting thing abt ajax and the possibility of being a radical IS that if hes going to refuse to follow an order or step out of line to follow his own path however it goes. its Not going to be personal. its not gonna be this big dramatic edgelord turncoat villainous moment to him. itll be straightforward. matter of fact. easy as breathing. because if he has moved past each and every benefit the fatui can even fathom offering him. its only natural that he progresses beyond them. thats just how his unquenchable ambition Works. how his black hole of a never-ending desire to devour and crush all in his path operates. its not personal. its not something you can change. its inevitable. he is a force of nature when it comes to the drive burning at the core of his soul.

like i Really dont think hes ever going to backstab the tsaritsa in some dirty play fashion??? if anything its only fitting that hes going to look her In the eye and go. oh my bad. i dont think our agreement serving a mutual benefit really holds ground anymore. apologies. like ofc its going to be something he handles while staying true to the person hes been all this time. kind of a bad guy and perfectly willing to own up to it. selfish and arrogant and with his sights set steadfast on a goal No one will get him to sway from.

and then he elopes with the narwh-------------- yes kill me

basically i just. dont get this whole perceived and persistent incompatibility between the idea of. ajax being a radical (whatever that ends up meaning in the story. IF these lazzo materials remain accurate) yet remaing the same guy we know and love. like guys. ARLE. is a radical. and has all but directly confessed to considering the survival of the house her greatest priority over any loyalty to the fatui and her majesty. yet she STILL regards her with respect and continues to fulfill her duties as a harbinger as expected for the time being. despite her full awareness of this loyalty being on shakier ground and surely making contingencies on the side for the future for When she sees it is time for her organization to sever the ties to the tsaritsa.

like Thats what i mean when i say its always been completely reasonable and even predictable to me that ajax would outgrow the fatui and how that has jack shit to do with his character suddenly doing some wild 180 in order to do so. and why this potentially significant visual alignment he has with the radicals in lazzo isnt surprising at all. bc if it doesnt fundamentally change who arle is (and doesnt make her a dottore fan) that she is ultimately someone whose loyalty to the organization comes second to her house. why would childe be any different lmao.

but like yes if he turns out to be a radical i will be soooooo obnoxious over it jkwjkawdjkwajkwdakjwdjkwdjkdwjk bc like im NOT lying this has been one of the Clearest trajectories ive expected from his arc All This Time . no matter which form it might eventually take in terms of. is it him and His growth initiating the split. or is it a betrayal from or a loss of faith in the tsaritsa herself that kickstarts it. if its canon? yeah i Saw that shit coming and you should all be scared of who ill become if dawei proves me right Again ill be the Worst

Phew that sure went way overboard but yes radical ajax advocacy group in here 100% . and overall even tho i mostly care abt him i Do think this faction split is inherently v fucking interesting and ajax being unknown is just. i wonder if itll end up being significant at some critical moment that his faction leanings are unknown slash undefined at the moment............... where the scales are about to tip and its by his hand that some key moment gets its turning point......... hmmmmmmm

(also its just. before these leaks we got "columbina is conservative" as an out of context statement Before the faction stuff and its still so fucking funny bc ppl were just like. wow i cant believe shes homophobic)

now. pulcinella time

so among the VA direction cards that leaked was his. and like if u didnt see them urself (not gonna post any here. hoyo lawyers love striking Any hoyo copyrighted media in all posts that have leaks in em even if its not an actual leak which this is lol) the setup is basically. theres a few overall notes on each of the harbingers like age, demeanor, characterization and then 3 sample lines of dialogue as well as notes further elaborating when & why this is being said and with what sort of vibe.

and his are. Well. you know how i started this post out being like on god dawei if you go and fatten my ego any further by Specifically vindicating me myself and i & the kinda things id prefer in genshins story and childes role going forward . Personally????

Anyway funny thing as it happens. IF (and admittedly thats a major if.) this VA direction doc from pulcinella holds up. and there isnt like a hidden scheming menacing side to him that wasnt brought up in the lazzo files. in that case . it sure is looking like pulcinella is just. a bit over the top in public but privately genuinely an overworked well-meaning pragmatic guy who deeply cares for and is truly protective of those important to him. INCLUDING. yes you know who and his family. NOTHING in the doc whatsoever implying anything sinister to it. nor wrt pulcinellas character overall.

and i just. nothing personal to scara fans yall are cool and ur guy is too i just simply. Cannot. guys can you IMAGINE being so much of an edgelord cynical embarrassment puppetfailure that ur own mommy issues make you physically incapable of Not assuming the worst of pulcinella caring for childes family leading to YEARS of ppl being CONVINCED hes gonna be this major fucking villain for ajax in the snezhnaya arc i . LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(my scara liker indulgence Ends the second hat guy speaks shit abt My man if you havent noticed. yeah WHO called who naive and stupid???)

like. if the Plot twist in the snezhnaya arc is setting pulcinella up to be this ominous figure that has ulterior motives w childes family and him overall????? only for him to be just. genuinely well-intentioned. oh my fucking god PLEASE let it happen PLEASE bc the entire concept of that whole plotline existing without said plot twist is just soooooo bland and fucking boring to me lol subverting it is just chef kiss

& sure this leak is. very limited in scope it doesnt automatically eliminate pulcinella manipulating childe and/or limiting what information he gets and all. and i genuinely have made my peace with the probable existence of this plot thread w arles SQ already before this whole thing happened but MAN ill be SO fucking happy if this means they might abandon/subvert it altogether like. let him just have a nice supportive mentor figure in his life in the fatui man 😭😭😭

pulcinella if u really just are a nice person ultimately. you TRULY are my goat o777 saving my man from bland family-is-hostage-waa storylines i have Such respect

anyway u could say its not possible for pulcinella to be like. fully a good guy since arles SQ already showcased him being unreliable w information regarding arle but honestly. i kinda disagree. bc like Especially with the faction thing in mind its not unreasonable at all in my eyes that given the Facts of what peruere did. that pulcinella despite not being this scheming schemer brainwashing ajax or whatever. would Genuinely hold a very negative opinion of arlecchino. and convey that to childe. bc like. pulcinella as stated above is in the conservative side of the harbingers. and arlecchino to the outside eyes rly did like. murder a harbinger and her own "mother" and siblings of the house. like do we even know that the harbingers are Aware of how crucabena ran her hunger games death tournament situation to begin with? and Why peruere killed her????

like. if we assume pulcinella doesnt know those things. and that crucabena in all likelihood was if nothing else then presumably a harbinger that was very loyal to the tsaritsa and very consistent. then from that position. of COURSE. youd consider arle a complete downgrade in terms of reliability . she IS a wild card she IS not someone a careful politician like pulcinella would regard highly At All. So like. i dont think when he gives childe the impression that arle is batshit insane and tells him of her (VERY REAL) murderous deeds. i dont think that would automatically equate to pulcinella Knowingly lying and misleading ajax . bc it seems fairly reasonable that pulcinella just genuinely thinks that lowly of her and thus would OBVIOUSLY want his protege not to involve himself with such people.

bc like thats the other thing. its not just arle. in pulcinellas VA notes and the line he has on ajax there. its very clear that he is actively trying to keep him away and shield him from ALL the harbingers . as he still has to mature and grow into someone who will have a chance at gaining their respect proper on his own. so like. if pulcinella thinks its best for ajax to remain away EVEN from the harbingers he himself considers GOOD to NEUTRAL influences and reliable colleagues. of COURSE hed make Extra sure that ajax is staying away from the knave whom pulcinella Actively considers a shitty fit for the job and an unreliable flight risk of a harbinger 💀💀💀💀

(nvm the way arle actively BOTH confirms pulcinellas distrust to be justified by saying the tsaritsa isnt a priority to her and the house is AND actively admits that he prefers other people believe misleading shit about her. so like fym pulcinella thinking the worst of her is surprising)

so like is pulcinellas pov of her at best Highly biased and lacking critical context on Why she merked so many of her sibs and crucabena??? and thus served as an inherently misleading insight on her character when he conveyed it to ajax??? absolutely. but i also dont think hes necessarily lying at all when it comes to perceiving arle in such a negative way so its less. oh i want ajax to remain in the dark forever so he is easy 2 manipulate. more just. thats his Opinion dude and ofc he wants his protege to follow in his stead and not get any poor influences from people like her. it still makes for interesting development & possible tension that childe Is questioning his views on things by making his own judgements about arle but. ya know. its not black and white.

but yeaaaa to be clear me vastly preferring the possibility of scara just being a cringelord unreliable narrator and this whole pulcinella-is-masterminding-dubious-things getting subverted & hes just a guy is just a personal thing lmao. this is pretty old material and far from all-encompassing in terms of Who hoyo wants pulcinellas character to be and all the layers he might hide. im just really 👁️👁️👁️ at the way this particular description of his character seems to be giving off vibes that they in fact Arent actually going all the way into the ulterior motives bad bad ajax watch out pulcinella and its just. listen theres way more interesting shit for ajax to be doing in the endgame plot than some generic plot like that!!!!!!!11! sorry!!!1 so id 1000% want it this way instead lmao

but we shall see where it goes. at the very least if this desc of pulcinella holds Any ground at all then it does disqualify the most extreme version of hes just basically evil manipulator mastermind so like. im already super happy with that lmao

but ya . sorry this took me forever to actually finish jwjkwdjkawjkwd these leaks r kinda old news by now rip .

[fullmetalfisting]

So back when I was a senior in undergrad, my partner went through, like, the craziest nervous breakdown I'd ever witnessed in my life. And like, maybe it makes me a back girlfriend or whatever but I was kind of like, "I'm gonna mind my own business on this one."

So my partner gets super close to two other students in his program. He was a film student so his senior year was being capped off by him making a movie. He decides he's going to make a movie about him turning into a salmon. He gets crazy into it. He starts eating salmon for every meal. He buys a bunch of salmon-related stuff. We found a T-shirt at Goodwill with a salmon on it and he thought it was divine intervention that he was doing the right thing. He walks into the freezing-cold Puget sound fully clothed several times to "get into it." He watches videos of salmon spawning and is like, "Nothing is more poignant than this." He gets a tattoo of three salmon on his arm.

The entire time the two students he got really close to are fully enabling him. It's a folie á trois sort of situation. They're out until six in the morning doing creepy art school shit and encouraging his (possibly no longer fictional) desire to become a salmon. My partner has an answer for everything. "Salmon get eaten by bears," I say. "That's a cool as fuck way to die," he says blithely. "And Salmon are free of the yoke of capitalism."

And if I dared to say, Hey, this is....getting a little odd..., he would throw a full-scale tantrum. I'm not supporting his dream (I wasn't sure at this point if it was his dream to be a filmmaker or his dream to become a salmon). I'm basically like, okay. Be a salmon! Fuck!

We had been dating for five years at this point and this behavior was such a left turn that I just decided to ignore it. And then after all that he basically went back to normal after graduation. Sometimes he'll be like, "That was weird, huh?" and has nothing more to say on the matter.

[kismetlotts]

cw: money kink? Simon is obsessed, Simon loves you spending his money and giving you money, strangers online, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral sex, reader streams and goes live a lot, mentions of poor financial situation, Simon yearns, controlling, reader starts an OnlyFans, jealous Simon Riley, mentions of the name 'Daddy'

Simon Riley who barley uses social media and doesn't understand it well. He supposes he’s never really had a proper reason to. Sometimes he would check up on his teammates private lives, see how they are doing when they are away and off duty; sometimes he could be caught watching the odd dog meme video that pops up- earning a small, slither of a smile from the scarred stoic man.

But honestly, he’s never had a reason to bother, no account profile picture or bio and a randomly generated username he wouldn't know how to change even if he wanted to. Most of the time he would have two or three followers and always one of them was someone he had no idea of.

He never had a reason to give a shit about the online world, not until he saw you.

Sat at your desk, eyes sparkling under your warm ceiling light. Eagerly reading the chat-box at the bottom of your stream as you answered peoples questions with genuine interest. Your smile made his chest burn hot and his eyes caught notice of your fingers fidgeting with your hair. You were stunning, absolutely fucking breathtaking and Simon couldn't get enough; he needed you.

He would join every single live, not messaging or saying anything to you but just watching and suffocating in silence. He wouldn't miss the way you licked your lips wet and chewed on your lower lip as you waited for more people to join. If it wasn't for his expertise in self control he would've been fisting his cock to the sight of you.

He would have you full blast on his phone as he pottered around his house, your angelic voice singing out words of ecstasy through the cold empty walls like you were there with him. His precious little sweetheart, living with him in his head and in his home. Who would've thought a stranger like you could mess someone like Simon up this fucking badly?

He learnt things about you, jotting them down in the notebook of his brain. Learnt the places you wanted to travel to and experiences you wanted to live- and found himself wanting to be beside you: witnessing it first hand. He found himself for the first time in years wanting to live and not just survive.

Despite his toll of silence, you didn't miss the way he was always there. Checking the viewer count to see his account right at the top as per usual. Time didn't seem to matter either, when you had woken up at early in the morning and decided to go live out of boredom- he was there. In the middle of the day when you were on your lunch break, ragged looking earphones trailing out your ear as you whispered into the microphone at the back of the café, he was there watching. He was always there and it felt strange.

In honesty, his consistency petrified you. You knew it was all in your head but the nagging feeling that it was one of your fucked up, clingy exes, still keeping tabs on you despite going your separate ways, made you sick. Hoping was all you could ever do because you wouldn't dream of confronting the mysterious account that was watching, lingering and following you every second your phone was powered on. It was highly unlikely to be anyone you knew and you weren't entirely sure if that was for better or worse.

When your first couple of donations rolled in, you didn't know what to say. Smiling and thanking the donators by name as your cheeks heated up.

You never asked for money or pleaded for donations; the option was always there if people wanted to. You certainly weren't going to beg or come across as a 'money hungry' but some extra cash on the side was definitely not a bad idea. The fact that people were so generous and kind to donating pennies and pieces to help reach the goal of buying your own place. It wasn't much people were sending in but every little help strangers would accompany you with, made you realise the world wasn't so selfish after all: and when Simon noticed this. He reached for his card.

Hundreds, multiple hundreds and it was just a ridiculous amount of money that piled in from his account. It was the first time you had seen him interact with you aside from liking your content or watching your streams- what the fuck were you supposed to say? Your eyes would lock onto the screen, mouth slightly agape revealing your wet tongue as you tried to find the words. Simon fucking groaned.

The blank, grey profile picture looked back at you with numbers you couldn't comprehend attached to it. Simon was helping you tremendously and despite your gratefulness you couldn't help but end your stream- guilt surfacing in your throat because that was a lot of money to be handing away to a stranger. It felt rude taking it, you were scared to take it- it felt like borrowed money not gifted money because who sends someone that amount of cash. Who in their right fucking mind?

The worst part was he didn't stop there- in honesty, watching how fogged your mind got and watching the way you struggled for words- he couldn't find himself able to stop. It was a high for him, he wanted to give you everything you wanted.

He would crack his neck, a moan falling from his lips as he clicked on your live with a grin. Adrenaline fuelling his body as he sent more, and more, and more until he heard the shake in your voice. 'Stop' falling from your lips between nervous giggles and he knew you meant it, feeling his heart ricochet in his chest but still, he continued.

The mental aspect of the situation had led you to taking a short break off of streaming, you were sure he wasn't some crazy ex from the amount of money he had given you and the realisation it was some random stranger always being there instead, didn't make you as uncomfortable as you thought it would've. He was probably some old man with a fetish for seeing some girl like you everyday and spoiling you. The worst case scenario was that he could be a stalker or a murderer who had taken a liking into you- but even then you were highly careful of what you let slip online and who could be out there.

It was difficult, you wanted him to leave as much as you wanted him to stay- you couldn't block him after he had spent all that money on you and as much as you wished he wouldn’t have done that: it was very helpful.

A good few weeks had past since you had uploaded and you figured that he would be onto some other girl by now. Splashing the cash for some supermodel look alike as he whispers into her microphone things that drive men wild. But of course that wasn't the case.

Simon was going fucking haywire. He couldn't sleep without hearing your muffled little voice in his dreams, your sleeping little face and messed up hair with your tantalisingly lowcut pyjamas, where were you? Where had you disappeared to? He would check your account religiously, just in case you posted and his notification didn't go off. He had googled ways to tell if he had been blocked- but the reality of the situation was that you had just became inactive.

It made his lungs ache and knees weak without hearing your voice daily- just old videos he had re-watched over and over again. Your absence worried him and it worried himself with how badly he was getting attached to you. His days felt like months, his strong demeanour replaced by one that was moping and mourning. Jesus- you weren't fucking dead. If you were fucking dead he would ruin whatever stole you from him. Was this stalker like behaviour? Was he being a fucking loser for worrying about you?

Upon your return you had decided to create a dreaded OnlyFans account. It was just to raise money and you weren't expecting to blow up into some massive porn star earing millions from sex work- you kept it pretty downlow. It was as much humiliating as it was necessary- without Simon there to send you hundreds of pounds, you needed the extra pay for groceries and rent money. Plus- it seemed everyone your age was doing it so what was the harm? You uploaded a quick video to promote your new account, posted it and sat down at your one seat table.

The cold of the wooden chair hitting your thighs and the dim lights of your kitchen made you realise how tiny your apartment was. Even for one person you felt like you were incarcerated- stuck in a prison cell but you couldn't afford to leave yet. The sound of your swallow echoing into the silence as you finished up your instant ramen- humming in satisfaction as your phone hummed to. You picked it up, your stomach turning cold as a message request came through.

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account?

Simon was fucking seething. Posting your tits- your body, that little mouth of yours sucking on objects that weren't his cock for other men to see? For other men to pay for? He almost cracked his phone when he opened your notification to that and he would've if it wasn't for his urgency to get you to delete your account. He had heard of OnlyFans, he wasn't daft and you were coming off there whether you liked it or not.

Your heart stuttered seeing the familiar account and a scoff of shock fell from your lips. He hadn't forgotten you after all. The mysterious account had finally broke his silence and your stomach fluttered with feeling you couldn't make sense of. He hadn't moved on from you, he couldn't move on from you- should you be weirded out by this?

Sorry?

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account. Now?

The pulse in your vein throbbed as you finally made sense of his question. The giddy feeling from earlier at the realisation he was waiting for you, subsided into thick strings of anxiety. Hypothetically, if you had run your account on there for a good few months, posting regularly and having a handful of subscribers- you would bring home a good portion of money to save up. You couldn't ask him for a lot of money- especially after all the money he had already gave but you couldn't delete your account for little to nothing. So, you took the time to nicely write back to him and explain your financial situation to him. Explaining how you need to money to help save for a future house- that you need food and necessities and that your shitty job doesn't pay you enough.

The chat fell silent, Simon began to type and then stopped- disappearing and you shut your phone off worried you had either overshared and accidently unloaded everything onto him or upset him.

I mean- you didn't owe him anything- he donated all that money to you on his behalf but you couldn't help the niggling feeling of regret and shame that you had offended someone so nice that had done so much for you. You told yourself that he was still probably some creep, some fucked up pervert that probably only watched for one thing. But if that was the case, why would he be against your OnlyFans? Maybe you read him wrong- or maybe he wanted you all for himself.

You felt your phone ping again, opening the chat to a payment of multiple thousands.

This your spending money for food and whatever else you want. And I can buy you a house darling, don't you worry.

The high numbers full your screen and you blinked. Your head unable to comprehend if this was real or not. A whole house? Spending money? Was this guy fucking rich? He obviously had money to give away willingly so there was no doubt he was rich. But still though, did he not have a family to spend this money on- or anything better to do with it? Without properly thinking you typed back your response, sitting back on your chair as your eyes darted around your small apartment. Was he deadly serious about buying you a house?- Who were you kidding, of course he was serious.

Are you a sugar daddy or something?

Simons concrete façade broke as he snorted, reading your message. Imagining your sweet, pretty, intoxicating voice reading it out to him while he melts and loses himself in you. He should just send you his card and bank details- he should just send you all of his fucking money and spoil you absolutely rotten. He would give you anything you wanted- he would let you walk all over him and drain his fucking account. The thought of you all dolled up, new shoes, new clothes, new perfume. The thought of you comfortable, clean and fed- fuck he had never felt this horny and desperate before. He fisted his cock through his jeans as he sat up on his couch, stretching and adjusting a little before looking back down at the message. Fingers typing back a reply before plopping his phone down beside him.

Not a sugar daddy, I just like your smile, Sunshine.

But if you really wanted to call me daddy, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

[murderofravens]

DUSK TILL DAWN

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader.

part: 1/3 [finished]

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, inho is in his late 40s) slowburn. oral fixation. thigh riding. plot with porn. yearning. sexual tension. canon compliant. slight infantilization. no y/n used.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 6.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

please ignore any mistakes.

as you wipe the blood from your face, the reality of your situation sets in. you never thought you'd get used to the smell of blood— much less the sight of it. or the texture. and now you're covered in it. the white of your uniform splattered with crimson, the metallic smell of it almost overwhelming. in a situation like the one you're in, you can only laugh. the mere sight of blood used to make you feel faint; make you want to throw up because you're squeamish. now you're covered in it from head to toe.

it's not yours. it's of the people they shot dead during the second game.

you barely remember how you made it out alive. the second one was all thanks to your team— thanos and nam-gyu were the closest to your age, and teaming up with them worked in your favour. your age and gender was a liability to the others, but they were kind enough to take you in. or perhaps they were thinking with their dicks. would it really matter either way?

but with the way they act, you're not sure if you want to continue being in a team with them. especially since thanos keeps trying to woo you with his poor rapping skills. they're way too loud and reckless for you, and you're scared they might get you killed. they're not willing to give up the game anytime soon, either.

then there's the first game— you're alive, because of 456. that crazy man who supposedly had played the games before. if it wasn't for him pulling you behind his back, you would've left the premises in a cardboard box. especially because you fucking sneezed as soon as the doll turned back.

since then, you've decided you don't want to play this game anymore. 456 has been desperately trying to change the other's mind— but they're greedy and insistent. you pressed the cross for his sake, and for the others, and for yourself. hell, you can live in debt, but what use is that money if you die trying? you're not that much of a hard worker. you value your life above anything else.

you walk over to their team— 456, and his two loud team members. another man is sitting there— player 001. the one who ruined your chance of going home on the first vote. he seems ordinary, but you know of him because you saw him beat the shit out of thanos. that was another reason you decided to abandon that team— you could not be seen with a bully, or a loser. as you approach him, you give him a slight nod of acknowledgement, which he returns. you turn your attention to 456, and thank him profusely for what he did for you. he's kind, you'll give him that. you like kind people.

"if you don't mind me asking—" a voice interrupts, and you look over your shoulder. it's player 001. he looks at you curiously. "how old are you?"

"old enough." you retort cheekily. he doesn't look amused as he cocks his head to the side.

"i'm curious as to why a little kid like you would compromise herself for money."

that shuts you up. you're offended, to say the least. who is he to call you a little kid? the entire team also looks on, seemingly baffled. the question makes sense. you're sure you're the youngest out of all players. and people can tell because you look it too. you don't really know how to respond, so you just look on with a frown, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"forgive me—" he lets out an awkward chuckle, "i didn't mean it the wrong way. i'm just worried."

you give him an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of your neck. the others go back to their conversations, and you shrug. he shoots a glance towards gi-hun before sitting back down and shifting slightly, as if making room for you. you take a seat beside him. there's silence before he glances at the symbol on your jacket— the cross.

"i'm sorry." he says with a small smile, looking straight ahead, "you wanted to go home but you had to continue because of me. i put a kid in danger."

"i'm not a kid," you huff softly, straightening up, "i'm twenty. but yeah, you should be sorry."

you give him a small smile to ensure he knows that the last line is lighthearted. he seems to understand and returns it.

"dont worry about it," you sigh, fiddling with the zip of your jacket, "im sure you had your reasons. just like i have mine for coming here."

"and your parents?" he asks. he's so polite, it warms your heart. polite and soft spoken. and visibly tough. probably some officer, you think, judging by his skills you previously saw.

"that's what i need the money for." you sigh, leaning back against the bunker. "i need enough money to establish myself. continue my studies. bring my mom and my sister to come live with me. settle off my father's debts because he's a coward who decided to pass down his sins onto his daughter."

he raises his eyebrows, and you take a sharp breath. there's a moment of silence between you two— you think for a moment, and feel your eyes get slightly glassy. you're not going to cry in front of a stranger. you put on a brave face. "if i die here, my mother—"

he stares at you silently, before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, interrupting your cursed sentence. "you'll make it out alive."

the doors open, and the staff comes in again. they reveal the number of players left, showcase the money that each person would get, and then the voting starts again.

this time, player 001 doesn't disappoint you. he goes first, and clicks on the cross. the hope it gives you eventually shatters as more and more players begin to vote in favour of continuing the game. you see 456 get increasingly agitated as he begins to make his way towards the front of the crowd. before he can speak, he's interrupted.

001's voice rings out loud and authoritative, and worried. he reprimands the voters in favour, calls them out on their selfishness.

"we'll all die if we keep playing!" he chastises the crowd urgently. "you have to survive first, or there won't be a next step—"

"there's no next step for us!" he's interrupted by player 100. a stout old man who had been at odds against 456 since the start— you remember him having 10 billion won in debt. it makes you snicker. he eggs on the crowd. "with that money, we won't be able to pay our debts. we need to play one more game, then the money will increase to 240 million. with that we can pay atleast a little of our debts! isn't that right!?"

"you're going to die trying!" you snap, making your way to the front of the crowd. you glare at player 100, at all his little supporters cheering at the back. "your greed is going to get you killed. how can you be so confident to say that you'll survive the next game? what if you die?"

"you shut up, young lady!" he hisses, mouth scrunching bitterly. "is that how you speak to your elders? your brain is too small to comprehend real life problems. we can't continue with our lives with that little money!"

"continue your lives?" a laugh bubbles out of your throat. "look at that greying head of yours, you barely have a life ahead of you! why don't you let us live ours?!"

that seems to have ticked him off, because he quite literally turns red as he takes a threatening step towards you.

"what did you just say?"

"i said—" you step forward, shooting him a challenging glare, "you're too old to be playing children's games. vote wisely and let us go home."

he lets out a snarl before trying to lunge at you, but you're pulled back as player 001 steps between the two of you. like a wall. he looks at the old man, eyes cold, his voice low. "that's enough."

since the incident with thanos, nobody has really tried anything with 001. it's obvious enough they're intimidated by him, and they don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 100 doesn't either, with the way he collects himself and steps back, embarrassed. you look over 001's shoulder, make eye contact with the old man and shoot him a taunting smile. you know it's childish, but you've resented him from the start.

before the old man can say anything, player 001 drags you to the side where you can't argue with people anymore. and the voting continues.

"you can't talk to people like this," he says lowly, gaze focused on the crowd. staring at something that you can't figure out. "you never know what they might do."

you huff bitterly. you know what he means.

"i don't care. i fucking hate bullies."

"potty mouth." he chastises, but theres a smirk on his face. he's teasing. you chuckle.

"remember you need to get out of here alive." he repeats, looking at you with an intensity that is almost terrifying. "you can't do that if you keep this up."

"jeez, okay dad." you joke, rolling your eyes. your words make him smile lightly.

"thanks for having my back there." you tell him sincerely. he looks at you for a bit before nodding in acknowledgement.

the voting ends, and they announce that the games will continue tomorrow. it makes your heart drop.

that night, you feel uneasy when you try to sleep. your clothes stick to your skin, and the side of your face keeps itching. with an irritated grumble, you get off the bunker and walk over to your new friend's side. you squint your eyes before looking for 001— and when you find him, you gently shake him.

"are you sleeping?" you whisper.

he opens his eyes, wincing slightly before sitting up. his voice is hushed as he responds, "not anymore. what is it?"

you bite your lower lip nervously before reluctantly asking, "will you go to the restroom with me? i'm kinda scared to go alone."

he blinks at you, confused. you continue out of sheer desperation.

"those guards just stare weirdly with their weird little masks and it makes me nervous." you hope your voice doesn't shake as you speak. "last time one of them kept knocking on the door while i was in the washroom and it just— scared the shit out of me. and my face is itching and i really need to go. please?"

he listens patiently. for a moment you think he'd decline but he just sighs and nods, and you cheer just a little as he steps out and follows you to the door. you bang on it, loudly telling the guards that you need to go. one of them opens the sliding window, and then immediately opens the door. it makes you feel strange, because usually it takes a lot more effort to convince them. either way, you're grateful.

you know your better option would've been to take one of the girls with you, but the sad fact is you haven't had the chance to get friendly with any of the female players yet. and for some reason, player 001 makes you feel a sense of safety and security that is almost strange— you feel at ease around him.

"i'll be in the men's room," he tells you, and you nod. he shoots a glance to the guard standing outside the women's restroom before walking away. you quickly go inside, and the first thing you do is splash water on your face.

you quickly clean the blood off your skin, holding back the urge to cry. you scrub at your cheeks till you're sure you can scratch the itch away for good. your nails dig a little too deep, and a little blood oozes out of the scratches on the side of your face. you clean that too, and then try to scrub the splatters of blood off your t-shirt. it's white, and you have no soap— so the stains remain. a faint reminder. you take your time, and anticipate the knocking— but it never comes.

you look in the mirror, at your tired face and sunken eyes, before giving yourself a nod and stepping out. 001 is waiting for you outside, looking to the side. he gives you an odd look as you step out, before walking alongside you.

"are you alright?" he asks gently, concerned. kind as ever.

you look at him again, give him a nod. "thank you."

when you two reach the room, he returns the smile with one of his own.

as you make your way to the bunker, he grabs your shoulder, "why don't you start sleeping on our side?" he says quietly, "join the team. there's a bed near mine. you won't feel so scared that way."

you blink, trying to see his face in the darkness. the offer is enticing— and most of all, it warms your heart.

"really?" you ask hopefully.

"really." he says kindly.

you follow him to the bunker, and he covers the railing with his hand to avoid you getting hurt as you bend down to get into the bed. he looks at the slightly wet patches on your shirt— blinks before getting a bedsheet and putting it over you. "get some sleep. we got a game to play tomorrow."

you smile softly at him. as he turns to get into his own bed, you grab his hand. it's warm against yours— big and rough. you don't allow your mind to drift that way. it's not right. he looks at you, gaze questioning.

"thanks again," you say softly, "it means a lot to me."

he leans down a little to ruffle your hair before going back to his bed and laying down. you close your eyes and drift to sleep— unaware that he stays up, thinking.

breakfast is boring— bread and milk. you sit on the bed, scowling. player 456 is surprised as he sees you there, before you two share understanding smiles. you bow a little and he bows back before going along with his friend. 001 comes to sit by you then, munching on his own breakfast.

"i miss home," you mumble, "how am i supposed to survive on just this? it's not even chocolate milk."

001 laughs, "don't worry, you can have whatever you want once you get out of here."

"will i?"

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. you take his silence as a cue to continue, "im scared i'll die in here."

he looks down, before shifting to be closer to you. "you made it this far, didn't you?"

you look at him, voice getting shaky. "and what if i dont make it till the end? what if i die here and my family thinks i abandoned them? i don't want to die. i haven't even lived my life yet."

his expression is hard to read. "you'll make it out of here alive," he tells you with conviction, "ill make sure of it."

your lips wobble as you stare at him, and he smiles before poking you in the nose. "finish your food. you need the energy for the next game. we'll make it out alive, then we'll try to get the voters on our side and go home. sound good?"

you snort, rolling your eyes before nodding. "sounds good."

he gives you his bread then, tells you to eat more. when you protest, he sends a warning glare your way— the one with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing gaze. you roll your eyes, and happily eat it.

you were hungry. perhaps he can tell things like that. you're just grateful.

today, you decided to be a little rebellious. when you first joined the games, you used to spend a long time in the bathrooms— analyzing, looking for a way out. during that time, you'd discovered that one of the screws in the ceiling vent was loose. you hadn't really bothered checking it before, but since it's daytime and you have some time before the next game, you decide to explore.

your hairclip works— the screws were not tightly fixed, so it unscrewed easily. you'd contemplated checking it out last night, but you didn't want to take any risks, especially since player 001 was with you. so now whatever you do, the responsibility will be yours.

when the bathroom gets empty and all the women leave, you pull it down and try climbing up. it's moments like these that you can pride yourself on your agility— work that usually required two people, you could do alone. with one leg on the flush and the other on the top of the cubicle, you climbed up, scratching the side of your arm slightly before finally getting in the vents. you groaned to yourself, and then started crawling inside. there were two ways to go— you chose the left one. you looked down, trying to understand the layout of the place where you were practically held hostage. you keep crawling, making sure not to make too much noise before finally seeing a place through the gaps that you hadn't seen before— you carefully remove the screws and pull it apart.

the place looks empty. the walls are all sorts of pink and green. you put your head down and look both ways, seeing a door at the end of the hallway. carefully, you climb down and lower yourself to the ground with a thump. your shoulder hurts a little. you stand up, and aim for the door. as soon as you begin walking, you hear footsteps. it's as if someone splashed cold water on you— you realize the grave mistake you just made. guards walk here with guns, and you made the impulsive decision to explore a dangerous place like this by yourself?

you look around, running towards the other end of the hallway. the footsteps get louder, and as you look over your shoulder, something grabs you. out of reflex, you go to scream, but a hand clamps down on your mouth, and your back collides with a hard chest.

"shh, it's me." the voice hisses. your wide eyes look up, scared, before realizing who it is.

player 001.

your chest heaves as you break out into a sweat, a tear rolling down your cheek. he keeps you in a tight hold, looking to the side, your breath dampening his hand. the footsteps suddenly become faint, as if walking away. your breaths sync together, and after a moment, he relaxes.

he takes his hand off your mouth before harshly twisting you to face him. his voice is hushed but angry, "what were you thinking?!"

"what are you doing here?" you whisper shakily at the same time.

"everyone was back in the room except you. i came to find you!" he chides, eyes hard. he shakes you slightly, "do you really plan to get killed like this? is this how you want to die? can you go one moment without being a reckless brat—"

his words make you want to cower in on yourself.

"i wanted to find a way out." you try to sound assertive, but your voice betrays you. your words come out panicked, "I wanted to help and— fuck— i got you in trouble too— you shouldn't have come looking for me! fuck— how are we gonna make it out of here?"

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you tiredly. "the game is about to start. we'll mix in with the crowd when they leave, i doubt they'll notice."

"are you sure it'll work?" you ask. you hear a faint announcement. the game is about to start.

he looks up at the speakers, alert. he grabs you tightly and drags you away with an air of confidence. "let's go."

you don't encounter any guards on the way back. it's strange, but you figure it's because they're all preparing for the next game. player 001's plan worked, because you two mixed in with the crowd, and the guards didn't notice. one of them turned back to look at you, and you panted, staring back at him. your heart raced, but you felt the presence of 001 next to you, and you felt at ease again. the guard looked away.

"i told you to stop being reckless." he says quietly, looking at 456 and 390, before looking back at you. your legs hurt from climbing so many stairs. "what would you have done if they found you?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, staring up at him intensely, eyes glassy. he saved your life. "i guess you stopped that from happening."

he clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering up and down your face before looking away. "i won't always be there to save you."

you look away, heart dropping. "thank you, 001."

"call me young-il."

you look up at him, blinking back tears, quirking an eyebrow as you two walk. "only if you allow me to add 'sir' at the end of it."

he chuckles, eyes crinkling. he has such a nice laugh. "why's that? respect?"

you nod, giving a little bow. "respect is very important in my culture as well. so thank you for saving my life, young-il sir."

he grins a little and pats your head. you thank him again, and decide you like him enough. so you tell him your name.

he tests it on his tongue, and you quite like the way he says it.

the next game had to be the most terrifying so far.

it was called mingle, and you had to run to the rooms in groups according to the number announced. things like these were where you got scared— where you had to group with people. in dangerous situations, you know people usually only look out for two types of people— themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

you were not dear to anyone here. you really should've interacted with more people.

the platform rotates, before the number is announced. six. your eyes widen and you frantically look around, but young-il is faster. he grabs you and drags you to the room with the rest of the team. you pant as the 30 seconds pass, and then look out the window in the door to see how many people were left— quite a few. your eyes widen as the red guards move forward with their guns raised.

young-il leaps forward and covers your eyes with his hand before pulling you into himself as the gunshots ring out— you flinch and shudder at every single one, breathing sharp and your entire frame trembling violently. when there is silence and the doors open, you look up. young-il gently lets go of you, looking around. he's panting too, and you look at him with the most crushed look on your face before he meets your gaze. he can tell what you want to know— why would you do that?

"you shouldn't have to see all this." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket and putting a little distance between you two. 456 pats your shoulder and makes sure people are okay before moving out. you just look at young-il for a while, but he simply looks around, seemingly lost in thought. as if fighting a war within himself. you wish you knew how to reassure him like he did with you, but you realize you barely know anything about him.

the entire floor is painted with blood. the sight makes you want to vomit. you walk carefully, but your foot slips in someone's blood and you begin to fall over. 456 catches you. "are you alright?"

instinctively, your gaze tries to find young-il but he's standing away. his head is lowered.

"yes, thank you." you give 456 a smile, before assuming your place on the platform again.

you play a few more rounds. you're lucky enough to have someone to team with each time— young-il and 456 don't let go of you even once. but then the voice runs out again, and they announce the number 3. this time, 456 is dragged along with the old woman and her son. you look around frantically, and meet young-il's panicked gaze with your own. you begin to run towards him, but two people grab you and drag you towards one of the rooms.

thanos and nam-gyu. you shriek at them, clawing at their arms and trying to run back out. what if young-il doesn't make it? what if something bad happens?

this time, you have no one to cover your eyes or ears. thanos and nam-gyu talk shit within themselves, and you look outside the little window, flinching with every gunshot ringing out, trying to pinpoint if it's young-il's body falling to the ground. you can't help the light sob erupting from your throat, and thanos chooses the wrong moment to come bother you.

"watcha looking for, señorita?" he laughs, poking your side, "is it your old man? did he finally—"

you turn to him and punch him in the face. he falls back and groans dramatically, rubbing the blood running down his nose. nam-gyu rushes to his rescue, giggling. they're both high as a kite. the doors open, and you rush out before they can bother you further.

you look around. 456 is with the rest of the team, but you can't find young-il. frantically, you look towards the dead bodies, heart pounding against your chest and head throbbing. suddenly, there's cheers from your team, and you look up to see young-il walking over with a bright grin on his face.

you don't know what compelled you to do it. you were acting on your emotions— overwhelmed by the relief you felt on the sight of his face. before you can even stop, you're dashing towards him and crashing into his body, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he's shocked, that much is obvious by the way he tenses slightly. but then he returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you and placing one hand on your head, gently patting. "i told you we'd make it."

you choke on a soft sob, nodding, burying your head further into his chest, as if ready to climb inside him, "i thought you—"

he shushes you softly, voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you can feel his heart racing against his chest too. you wonder if it's for the same reasons as you. "i'm okay."

you wish the game ended there. but there was one more round to go. as you rotated on the platform— the moment you were dreading finally happened as young-il predicted it. the number announced was two.

you were ready to die there. things seemed to happen in slow motion— 456 took his best friend 390, 149 was dragged by her son. you didn't get the chance to see who took who next, because young-il had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards one of the rooms. there were only fifty rooms— the first one you two got to was taken. he dragged you to another with a mere ten seconds left.

you sighed in relief as you got in, before seeing another man was already there. he was shaking in fear, and you jumped at the harshness of young-il's voice when he ordered him to get out. when the other player refused, young-il lunged at him and put him in a headlock.

your eyes widened and you stepped forward, panic stricken but he looked right at you and called your name, "close your eyes!"

you flinched. you looked at the man, then at young-il, before squeezing your eyes shut. you slid to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as soon as you heard a 'crack' before opening your eyes.

the player was dead. young-il cracked his neck.

the timer finished at that exact moment, and young-il crawled over to you before pulling you into his chest. the gunshots rang out, and you flinched, sobbing.

young-il killed someone.

"i had to do it," he whispered against your hair, holding your head against his chest, "we both have to make it out alive. i had to do it. you know that right?"

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but in that moment, you felt scared of him for the first time.

the doors opened, and the game finished.

while you wanted to revel in your victory, the incident during mingle had rattled you to your core. the others checked up on you, especially 388 and 456. young-il maintained some distance. you could feel like he thought it's what you wanted. but you could really use his comfort. you just don't know how to talk to him again without being nervous. you force yourself to relive your previous interactions with him— he's still the same young-il who has saved you and comforted you countless times.

he did what he had to do to ensure your survival. that wasn't something you could hold against him. not when both of your lives were on the line.

the voting this time was just as challenging. you made your way to the front of the crowd, praying that they'd choose wisely this time. you need to go home.

one of the players in the old man's team showed you the finger before clicking the 'o' button. the action made your eye twitch, and you grit your teeth before straightening up to attack that guy and scratch his face off, but a hand to your chest held you back.

if looks could kill, young-il's glare could've sent that guy home in a body bag. as the votes in favour of continuing the game increased, you pushed his hand off you and addressed the crowd, "have you all lost your fucking minds?!"

their chitter chatter stopped and they looked at you. you clench your jaw, "after losing so many people out there you still want to play? what the fuck is wrong with you people? are human lives that invaluable to you?"

player 100 steps forward, insufferable as always. "don't you see how much money we're getting for each person? it could settle our debt! we can't give up after how far we've come."

"you're gonna die!" you snap, pointing at him, "you could take this money and go home and be happy instead of risking your life for something that is not assured to you! why won't you listen?! i want to go home!"

the others in favour of terminating the game start chanting with you, a string of 'i want to go home' echoing across the room.

player 100 glares, urging his own team to chant against you. he looks towards young-il, yells something along the lines of, "look after your fucking kid!" before the barell of a gun presses against the back of your head. the whole room freezes, and so do you.

"disruptions against a democratic vote will not be excused." the robotic voice calls out. for a second you think this is it. you look at young-il. if you die here, you'd prefer the man who saved your life to be the last person you see. he glares at the guard, his jaw clenching. the guard lowers the gun and steps back and you let out a breath of relief.

you immediately saunter over to him, gritting your teeth. the vote is a tie— and they announce the next voting to be held tomorrow.

456 says there's about to be a fight. the rest of the team got busy setting up a barricade— and you didn't get the chance to talk to your player. you knew his concern though, when he made sure to especially hide your side of the bed with two mattresses.

you play with the hem of your shirt as you sit in your bed by your lonesome. your food sits by you, untouched. you dont feel like eating. the weight on the bed shifts, and young-il appears into view.

"you're not eating."

you swallow the lump in your throat. "i don't feel like it."

he contemplates, eyes lowered before he looks at you again. "im sorry you had to witness that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

you want to cry. "im not." you whisper, "you.. you had to do what you had to do. to save us."

he blinks, nodding.

"back there, i thought that was it. it's over." you chuckle bitterly. "but you saved me again. you acted on impulse. i could never resent you for it."

your eyes are bloodshot as you look at him again. fat tears roll down your cheeks, and he frowns. he sighs before leaning closer, brushing the tears away. "why are you crying?"

"i wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for you." you whisper, voice cracking. "promise me you wouldn't abandon me. promise me you won't die."

his gaze softens. he's silent for a bit, his hand coming to rest on your knee, "i promise."

you sniffle, wiping your tears away. a small smile appears on your face, "i punched thanos."

"thanos?" he frowns, confused before raising his eyebrows in recognition, "ah, the loud kid with the purple hair?"

you nod proudly. "he said something like 'did 001 finally die?' so i punched him."

he laughs heartily— face scrunching cutely, eyes crinkling. he shakes his head fondly before ruffling your hair again. "attagirl."

it makes you blush slightly and you smile, looking down at your lap. he grabs your dinner— the roll sitting next to you and unwraps it, taking out a piece before holding it out, "eat."

you snort before leaning forward and taking a bite. he looks at you for a while with that faraway look in his eyes, before wordlessly continuing to feed you the rest. the words go unsaid. 'what are we doing? why are we so comfortable with each other?'

some sauce sticks to the corner of your mouth. he raises his hand to hold your chin, his thumb gently wiping it off. your breath hitches.

neither of you protest when his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, gaze focused on it like he's hypnotized. he's thinking, mindlessly feeling the plush texture of it.

you've always been impulsive. especially in situations where you shouldn't be. it happens so naturally— how your lips part just slightly. and maybe he's impulsive too, because his thumb slips inside, and his breath hitches as soon as your lips wrap around his thumb.

his gaze raises to meet yours— and you blink almost dazedly. his thumb presses down on your tongue, and he calls out your name in the softest voice.

"i'm too old for you." he whispers, shaking his head in disapproval.

your eyes flutter, and you lean forward, grabbing hold of his wrist. he pulls his thumb out, and you almost whine in protest. to your utter delight, he replaces it with two of his fingers, and your eyes almost roll back as you crawl forward till you're situated on his lap, mouth stuffed with his index and middle finger. you suck on them enthusiastically. they're long and thick and perfect and you don't want them out of your mouth ever again. it elicits a soft moan out of him— and if you could put that sound on repeat for the rest of your life, you'd be happy.

he pulls his fingers out and grabs the back of your head, pulling you close till your foreheads press together. you try to lean forward, to capture his lips with your own. he chuckles slightly, eyes closed, playfully rubbing his nose against yours. you whine.

"so impatient." he whispers, and then his lips are colliding with yours. it would be embarrassing if someone were to catch you two like this— more so for him than for you. thankfully, the others are busy strategizing for the night, and are not looking for either of you.

you moan softly and he bites down on your bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. it's desperate and reckless and so full of spit— it makes you whimper into his mouth and he pulls you further into himself, as if telling you to shut up. his experience is obvious in the way he kisses, and you follow his lead. unknowingly, your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and he lets out a soft hiss. he pulls away slightly, strings of saliva connecting your mouths. he licks it away.

"come on, sweetheart," he whispers, one hand coming down to help your hips grind against his thigh, "make yourself feel good— that's it, that's my good girl."

you moan softly, and his free hand clamps your mouth shut. he speeds his movement, clenching and unclenching the muscle of his thigh, guiding your hips to move faster against his lap. it's been so long since you've masturbated— and this is unarguably the hottest situation you've ever been in, with the hottest man you've ever seen. so you're already close. you cry out into his hand, your voice muffled. he understands what you mean and lets you move on your own speed then, pulling your head into the crook of his neck as he whispers soft words of praise into your ear.

the moment he calls you his good girl again, you cum. he muffles the sound with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut before he looks at you intensely. you collapse against him, slightly sweaty, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you cling to him. he runs his hand through your hair, breathing sharply. it's a small moment of bliss in the hell you've found yourself in.

soon, the lights go out, and dread settles in your stomach once you feel his body tensing. player 388 pulls one of the mattresses back slightly, hisses a quick "get under the bed!"

and the next game begins.

A/N: this was incredibly fun to write. i love writing him a little soft and fatherly, so deal with it. i might write a part 2 for this, if anyone wants that. this idea has been in my head for a while. i love him so, so much. this fic is my baby and i truly hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it.

tags! @carolinevoight @lovers-roq @wildtigerlili @menabuser16 @deadlyobsessivfennec @watasinekoru @hanakokunzz @cowuies

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ ah-ah, barbie, you're so fine! ❞

special treatment : thighs edition

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : kamo choso + itadori yuuji + higuruma hiromi + ryomen sukuna

☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, facesitting, somnophilia, dirty talk, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, degradation, desperation, oral fixation, squirting, creampie, choso being whiny, yuuji being a little shit, yuuji is 21yrs & a college student, hiromi being pussydrunk, sukuna being whipped

✧ k. choso : poor choso, ever since the first time he's gotten a taste of what's between your thighs, he's begging you every day just to eat your cunt. but today? today must be a bad day, because choso is desperate. his already between your thighs, whimpering and whining as he mouths at you through your underwear, tears in his eyes as he begs you to give him a little taste. once you do, his eyes are rolling back just from the first lick.

"you taste so good, fuck, so good, thank you, thank you, mmph, so delicious, i can't get enough." "can you cum again? i know it's been 4 times already, but please? please, please, pleaase, pretty thing, i need itttt..." "oh my goddd, you're cumming? yes, yes, cum on my tongue, pretty please, i'll fuck you so good after, just keep cumming, don't hold back." "stop-stop running away, i know your pretty pussy is all sensitive b-but i just, i can't stop...but you know you can say the safeword and i'll stop, right? ...what? you-you like being overstimulated...? fuck, fuck, okay, let me make you squirt on my tongue then i'll fuck you good, okay?"

✧ i. yuuji : yuuji's always been a smug little shit whenever it came to teasing you. what starts off with him tickling you and blowing raspberries into your stomach turns nto hot kisses against your stomach that let down to the waistband of your underwear as he pushes your shirt up higher on your body. he can't help but grin up at you when he notices the wet spot on your panties from his little kisses.

"d'awww, bunny, y'so cute! look at how wet you are. is that 'cus of me? ehehe, i know, i know, teasing is mean, but i can't help it...you're just so adorable." "y'know i can practically feel your heartbeat whenever i kiss it? mhm, i can feel that, pretty girl. don't cover your face, baby, you're so cute!" "your thighs are so soft. i could stay between here forever, fuck goin' to classes or missions, i'd rather just eat you out until you pass out." "open up these legs a little more, let me get my fingers in there...thereeee we go, such a pretty lil' bun, aren't you?" "you're so messy! did i do this to you? yeah? aww, my pretty girl likes meee! i felt how you squeezed on my fingers! so cute!

✧ h. hiromi : ever since you made a comment about his nose, saying 'doja is right about big noses' in passing to him, hiromi has been curious. curious enough to the point where he looks it up, seeing the video of said woman. so, you wanted to sit on his face and grind on his nose, hm? you've never sat on his face before but he was sure to change that.

"i don't care if you think i'll die, i want you to sit on my face. i'm giving you the chance to either have control of your pace or let me do what i want with you. so, what's your decision?" "see? it's not that bad, angel, you forget your husband isn't some weakling...now c'mon on, get yourself right over my mouth, let me taste you." "god, you're so beautiful like this. i need you on my face more often, you're dripping all over my mouth...such a good girl for me." "heh...i knew you said my nose was perfect for sitting on but i didn't realize it would get you this riled up. go ahead, sweet thing, you can keep grinding that clit on it...just like that, just let me make you feel good." "good lord, i never wanna leave between your thighs. so fucking sweet, shit, angel, you've got me wrapped around that pretty finger. c'mon, let me devour you all night, i'll let you get up when i'm done."

✧ r. sukuna : getting sukuna to lay on his back without him instantly taking control of the situation was easier than you thought. hell, even crawling up higher so that you were hovering over his face was too. but little did you know, sukuna was intrigued, liking the side of you where you would just take control of him, knowing that only you had the right to do that...especially if it meant he got to eat you until you soaked his face.

"you know i should kill you for thinking you can just sit on my face like i'm some kind of personal chair. i am the king of curses, not a piece of furniture...what? ...hm. i guess you do look...good over me like this." "...huh? sorry, i wasn't listening. when are you going to sit on my face? you keep blabbering, but i can see the way that sticky cunt is dripping for me. are you gonna just let it go to waste?" "oh. shit. you've been holdin' out on me, haven't you, diamond? shit, i can see all of you from down here...nah, keep grinding on my face, little one, use me for your pleasure...let me see you cum on my mouth." "such a fucking slut. my mouth is coated in your cum, but you still wanna keep going? my tongue that good for you?" "no, no, i'm not letting you back down until you beg, diamond. tell me how badly you want me to fuck your pussy with my tongue...hm. good enough."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Wife!Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, jealous!alastor, soft comforting shower sex, knotting, alastor has a tail, consent, making out, soft kisses, biting, marking kink, alstor laps up the readers blood because he bites a liiiitle too hard, creampie, banter between alastor and lucifer, as well as banter between the reader and angel

☒ Word Count: 1,972

Alastor was quite the jealous type. 

You were his wife in life and death. To say he was protective of you was an understatement. So, it only made sense that Alastor would lose his composure when the ruler of hell himself arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. 

Lucifer was a rather charming man, but you were spoken for. So when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm, your hand yanked away in the blink of an eye. You could have sworn you heard a crackling growl escape your husband's lips as he watched Lucifer offer you a lustful gaze- and that was simply unacceptable. 

"I see you've met my wife!" Alastor let out a forced chuckle as he looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. You let out a sigh of relief. All thanks to your husband's rescue. Lucifer gave Alastor a pointed look before he blurted out, "You're joking... right?" He scoffed. 

Your face scrunched up in anger at Lucifer's rude remark. "Oh, he's as serious as a heart attack." You spat, snaking your own arm around Alastor's back. You squeezed his waist, a habit of yours that let your dear husband know when you were livid. 

"But- look at you! You're gorgeous, sweetheart, and he's just... freaky." You were about to snap back before your husband's maniacal laughter tore through the room. "Ha Ha! That's rich coming from the short stack!" Alastor quipped, grip tensing around your waist. Lucifer's chest puffed up in defense before he let out an airy laugh. 

"Aha! The height I lack up here, I surely make up for below the belt! Maybe I can show your wife sometime." Lucifer shot you a playful wink, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. Alastor tensed beside you before he let out another forced laugh, ducking low to get in Lucifer's face. "Ha Ha! Fuck you." Your husband spat, voice missing its usual radio static tone. 

Before the situation could escalate further, Charlie intervened. Pushing her father away from the tense atmosphere while mouthing a sympathetic "Sorry!" your way. The aura in the room was stiff. You could certainly cut the tension with a butter knife. "Damn, smiles! Looks like lil' Luci himself has got eyes for your girl!" Angel stated before taking a swig of his cocktail. 

You turned your head in Angel's direction. Shooting him a warning glare. The last thing you wanted was for Angel to get caught in the crossfire of your husband's anger. Alastor remained quiet before he slowly began walking toward the staircase. You could tell he was seething with how his ears twitched atop his head. Your husband flickered up the steps without a word, making you worry. 

"Damn it, Angel! You knew he was pissed enough as is, no need to poke the bear!" You sighed, rubbing your temples as you made your way over to the bar. Husk poured you a drink, shaking his head in agreement. "Dont'cha mean poke the deer?" Angel chuckled, patting your back in a lighthearted manner. Husk cursed under his breath at Angel's remark. 

"Cut that shit out, or he'll put you on his next fuckin' broadcast," Husk grumbled, cleaning a glass with a worn-down rag. You sipped your drink before rubbing your temples once more, shaking your head in annoyance. "I should probably go check in on him..." You spoke to yourself before turning on your heel, waving a small goodbye to your two good buddies. 

"She's in for a loooong night!" Angel giggled, causing Husk to flick his forehead as a warning to "Shut the fuck up."

You took a breath before carefully opening your shared bedroom door. "Darling?" You called out, descending further into the space as you scanned the room for your husband. You peacefully made steps toward your private bathroom, having heard the shower running from beyond the door. To your luck, the door was left unlocked, making it easy for you to slip inside. 

The bathroom was full of steam as your eyes trailed to the red tufts of hair reflecting through the clear glass shower door. Alastor heard you come in, but he still remained silent. Trying his best to cool off. He hated losing his composure more than anything. Carefully, you began ridding yourself of your garments, leaving your clothes in a pile beside Alastor's. You slid the glass door open, stepping into the shower with your husband. 

Alastor's ears were pinned against his head as he stood underneath the shower head, allowing the water to cascade down his face. His back was toward you. Your husband's hands were placed in front of him on the cold tiles. Keeping him stabilized. "Al, my love? Is it alright if I touch you?" You whispered softly from where you stood behind him. A moment passed before he nodded in agreement, still remaining silent. 

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him. Allowing your hands to caress his midsection all the way up his chest. You rested your head in between his shoulder blades, pressing your chest flush against his back. Alastor let out a deep sigh, your touch bringing him much-needed comfort. "That impudent man.." Your husband muttered, ears twitching in annoyance as he did so. You rubbed circles into his chest, placing gentle kisses against his back. 

"He's a jerk, Al. I'm all yours, forever and always," Your lips curled into a smile toward the end of your sentence as you felt his tail wagging, brushing against your lower tummy. Your husband's shoulders eased up from your words. He let out a breath before turning on his heel. Alastor's hands immediately cupped your face, doubling over to capture your lips with his. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands rubbing your husband's sides lovingly as your mouths molded perfectly against one another. 

Your shared embrace lasted a few beats longer before your husband pulled back, half-lidded crimson eyes gazing down at you. "Indeedy, my doe. You're all mine! I suppose I'll have to make it evident to the short stack... and anyone else who dares to court you." His voice dipped low; as did his wandering hands. Alastor's pointed nails dug into the back of your thighs as he hoisted you up. On instinct, your legs wrapped around his slender waist. 

A pleasant gasp escaped you as you felt your husband's hard length brush against your core. Alastor let out a deep growl against the nape of your neck as he nipped at the sensitive flesh there. "Alastor..." You whined. Tipping your head back so your husband could have better access. A shiver ran down your spine when your back collided with the cool tile walls. Alastor bit a little too harshly between the juncture of your throat and shoulder. 

A bit of blood trickled down your collarbone, but your husband was quick to lap it up. A deep groan from him sent a rush of heat down to your core. "Divine, my little doe. Absolutely delectable," Alastor mumbled against your sternum before one of his hands slipped between your bodies. He rubbed the flushed tip of his cock between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your slick. "May I, my darling?" Alastor whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he waited patiently for your approval.

"Yes, please..." You sighed, burying your hands into his soaked two-toned locks. Your husband slowly pushed himself past the tight ring of your pussy. Capturing your lips at the same time, drinking up all of your moans as he stretched you open. Your eyes rolled back into your head when Alastor bottomed out inside you. Slowly, you caressed his sensitive ears. Pride pooled in your chest when your husband twitched wildly inside you from the gesture. 

Your lips pulled back from his when Alastor began thrusting into you. His movements were sharp but shallow, not wanting to pull back more than he had to from the warmth of your pussy. Your husband's head fell forward, forehead resting flush against your shoulder. Alastor groaned against your damp skin as your walls clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. All you could do was moan in pleasure as your husband fucked into you perfectly. 

"Mine, all mine..." Alastor huffed out before suckling at the base of your neck. You could feel your husband's knot begin to swell inside you as your own release approached rapidly. Apsentmindly, Alastor's thumb dipped between your bodies. He rubbed at your clit expertly as he jackhammered up into you. Your legs tightened around his waist as the coil within your tummy was only moments from snapping. "I'm yours, all yours..." 

Your words sent Alastor over the edge. He moaned loudly into your neck as his hips stilled, emptying his load deep inside you. The feeling of your husband cumming inside you was enough to trigger your own orgasm. Alastor hissed as he felt your pussy gush around his cock, squeezing him like a vise. After a few moments, you felt Alastor's knot begin to deflate. Allowing his now softening cock to slip out of your inviting heat. "You truly are just darling. How did I get so lucky?" Alastor chuckled as he lifted his head to gaze into your eyes. 

A bashful smile crossed your features as Alastor slowly lowered your thighs from off his waist. Being sure to hold your hips, stabilizing your trembling legs. "Oh, hush! I'm the lucky one." You giggled, untangling your hands from his hair. Allowing your palms to cup his face, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. Alastor kept his eyes open as you kissed, admiring your lovely visage. After a moment, you pulled back, nuzzling your nose into his. "Now, let's get washed up before heading back out there, yeah?" 

Alastor and you emerged from the room a little while later. Meeting up with the group from where they gathered in the foyer. Charlie cheerfully waved you and your husband over, and you didn't miss the way Lucifer scowled at Alastor. "We were wondering where you lovebirds wandered off to," Vaggie stated, scooting over on the couch to allow you both to sit. Swiftly, Alastor sat on the sofa before pulling you into his lap. A smile etched into your face as your husband's arms looped around your frame, large palms caressing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard Lucifer grumble under his breath from the public display of affection. Your friends, on the other hand, had their jaws on the floor. Alastor rarely showed his physical admiration toward you in front of them. So, to say they were shocked was an understatement. "Told ya they snuck away to fuck! Look at her neck, haha- Husk! You owe me that hundred bucks," Angel blurted out. Laughing his ass off. Heat rushed to your face from your friend's crass words. Alastor, on the other hand, glared at Lucifer. His smile stretched from ear to ear as the ruler of hell fumed. 

"Angel-! Husk-?! You made a bet on whether or not Alastor and I would... ah, you fuckers!" Embarrassment flooded your entire being, hands darting up to cover your face. Alastor let out a loud chuckle from your adorable reaction. "No, toots. We're not the fuckers! You're the one who got fucked, aha!" You quickly got up from your spot atop Alastor's lap, storming over to Angel. "Husk, you're next!" You shouted, chasing Angel around the lobby. "Leave me out of this! That dumbass wouldn't shut up until I accepted the bet." Husk grumbled, not entertaining the bullshit. 

All the while, Alastor was giving Lucifer a sharp look with that shit-eating grin still illuminating his features. "As you can see, there's no need for you to show my wife your little chum below the belt. My darling is more than satisfied in my care!"