#and he just gets to get away with treating me like absolute garbage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

decojellyfish · 6 months ago

Note

So we saw Guard dog! ghost and kitten! reader

Rescued fighting dogs! Ghost and Soap with cat! reader

how about we get some of Price adopting a puppy! reader and reader having to learn the ropes from Older dogs! Ghost, Soap, and Gaz(maybe??)?

or just Price rescuing another former fighting dog! reader and them being all defensive against former fighting dogs! Ghost, Soap and Gaz(maybe??), maybe even fighting against them when they(soap) try to get too close for reader’s comfort

Thank you so much for being my second request!! I decided to go with the second prompt you offered me, and I had fun writing it! I just don't have fun making you guys cry because, fair warning, this one is gonna be angstyyy... 😔 But I hope you guys enjoy!

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Bite

Hybrid AU! TF141 Retired Fight Dog! Gaz, Ghost, and Soap x Retired Fight Dog! GN! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as ‘you’

SFW ~ Angst

Warnings: Brief/occasional swearing, mentions of abuse, depression, extreme violence, trauma

───♡───────────── Beginning Your body ached. You didn’t know if it was because you were starving, or if it was your muscles and joints crying out for help from your most recent fight. It was a couple of hours ago, and it was rough. Your previous owner had disowned you when he found a new pup to use and abuse for profit. Part of you was happy, the years of abuse and ruthless training were over. The other part of you was absolutely terrified. You had no more food, no treats, no worn-out bed for you to sleep on, and no roof over your head.

You’d been homeless for nearly a year. You gave up on keeping exact track months ago. Your slightly sunken stomach never ceases its eternal growl, constantly yearning for food. Dumpster diving has become a part of your lifestyle. You had managed to find some food, albeit moldy and/or coated in garbage juices, but it was still food. ‘Food is fight fuel’ was constantly echoing through your head, while you fought off the sickness going through your head as realization set in that you were literally eating garbage. Sometimes, you even wondered if food was even worth it. You weren’t fighting as much as you used to. Sometimes you were suddenly assaulted by other stray fighter dogs as well, forcing you to live in constant paranoia, anxiety, and a never-ending feeling like you had to fight.

There were times that you even lashed out at strangers because of this constant fear. Domesticated dogs would find themselves abruptly thrown into a fight when you were around. They would leave with scratches, bites, bruises, and even chunks of flesh missing due to your fierce bite. In the underground fighting scene, you were most known for how gnarly the wounds from your bites would be.

This would result in animal control being called on you. But you’d evaded them countless times, which meant that you were far from where you originally came from. You would bounce from alley to alley, town to city. You were far from home if you could even call where you came from ‘a home’.

Though you were far from old enemies, you still made new ones. You were so used to lashing out that you were still getting into fights, but now you were getting into fights with fight dogs you didn’t even know.

Some days, you were tired. So tired, you just wanted to lay in your current alleyway and just rot. Let the bugs eat away at you, sometimes you even want to turn yourself into the pound. At least there you would have food in your belly and a semi-warm place to sleep. On other days, you were mad. So mad, you just wanted to paint the town red with any kind of blood, even your own.

Today was a tired day. You were lying against a wall, it was raining. Rain would be the closest you had to being bathed. Your rotted clothes were soaked and falling apart, your hair sticking to your face and skin as you stared at the opposing wall. Your eyes had nothing behind them, you were lost in your little world. Your happy place.

You imagined yourself in a cabin, or a cottage, just somewhere secluded and cozy. You had a loving partner, and pups of your own to take care of. A garden in the backyard, full of fruit, vegetables, and herbs. A flower garden in the front yard, full of daffodils, tulips, rose bushes, and trumpet lilies. You wore soft clothes like they were made of clouds. In your happy place, you were warm. In your happy place, you were safe.

Unfortunately, you were ripped out of your happy place by a smell. A familiar smell. Multiple familiar smells. Your heart had already started to beat rapidly, and the sense of adrenaline you had when in the fighting ring was coming back, slapping you in the face. You shifted your position from laying back against a wall to standing up and ready to fight, your teeth already beginning to show and a low growl slowly leaving your throat.

Familiar smells were never good, it meant that someone who had been made an enemy was close. Another fight was about to happen. You could hear men chatting with each other, though it was muffled by the ringing in your ear as your brain was now filled with nothing but adrenaline, panic, and one word. Fight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price was going on his weekly walk with his boys, all rescues. His home had become somewhat of a mini rehabilitation center. His pups, although fully grown dogs, were his pride and joy to be around. Gaz was his first rescue about seven years ago, Soap was rescued about two years after Gaz, and Ghost had been rescued three years before today. Price, himself, was a retired military veteran.

He enjoyed going on walks with his pups, he found it to be a nice bonding experience. Although today was rainy, it didn’t stop the group from following tradition. Gaz loved the rain, the sound and the feeling of raindrops hitting windows, umbrellas, or even himself was beyond calming for him. Soap didn’t particularly like rain, it mostly made him think of those unbelievably sad scenes in movies that involved rain, like an intense breakup. Ghost was neutral about it.

But Ghost found himself focused on something else, a smell. He glanced over at Soap, who could also smell this sudden scent. “Stop.” Ghost spoke firmly, grabbing Price’s shoulders and looking at the rest of the group. “Stay here, I smell something.” “Ghost, I don’t want you getting hurt-“ Price protested, only to be interrupted by Soap. “Stay, somethin’s here tha’ could rip out your throat.”

Gaz was worried as well, even though the scent wasn’t as familiar to him as it was to Ghost and Soap. He could smell a large amount of adrenaline and even panic or fear mixed in.

Ghost slowly walked up to the scent source and braced himself, slowly watching as a familiar face came into view. The two of you had been through plenty of fights together, each parting putting up a massive fight. You were snarling at him when he approached you, your body unconsciously moving closer to the wall, further away from him as he grew closer. Your hollow, starved appearance had him taken aback. You looked terrible. You were coated in scabs, bruises, and open wounds that had miraculously not gotten infected.

Your heart was beating so fast, that both you and Ghost could hear it. He had his hands up, his palms open as he showed he wasn’t looking for a fight. That didn’t stop you though. All you could see was all those fights, years ago. Ghost snarling back at you before he would nearly tear a chunk out of you while you almost ripped both of his ears off. You lunged at him with a loud bark, tackling him as you began to scratch and bite at him.

The group was startled, and terrified. They would all run to Ghost as they tried to get this rabid dog off of him. Of course, four men against you was an unfair fight and you were swiftly removed from the fight.

Soap held you against the ground, crouching over you as he pinned both of your arms behind your back as you continued to snarl and attempt to bite. You panted and stared at them with wide eyes, mostly focusing on Ghost and Soap since they were enemies from the past.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, aren’t you..?” You spoke shakily, to either of the boys. Soap could feel how strong and deep your breaths were as you hyperventilated.

All the men shared a glance of worry, Soap spoke up, “We’re not those dogs anymore.” Ghost would nod in shared agreement. “You don’t look so good, since the last time I saw you.” He looked down at you, noting how your stomach churned from hunger, how tired your eyes were, and your slightly raspy breath. Even your recent wounds worried him, some nearly looking like early stages of infection.

You grunted as you struggled under him, “Yeah, well, ‘m happy to see you guys living the high life.” You grumbled, the other dogs’ ears twitching as they heard a slight crack in your voice. You couldn’t ignore it, you were jealous. They didn’t look as tired as they did at your last fight, not on edge all the time, they looked well fed, and they smelled good too. And worst of all, what made you want to lash out at all of them, even their owner, was the fact that they looked happy with this new life. The life that you desired that always seemed to be out of reach.

All the men looked back at Price, Gaz included, with one question in their eyes. ‘Can we keep them?’

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taking you back to their home was a fight in it of itself. You couldn’t help but be scared. Maybe they were all tricking you, maybe they were gonna lock you up in their house and sell you off to another owner in the underground fighting scene. Maybe they really were going to kill you. You only felt slightly safe with Gaz, but that’s because he didn’t look as scarred a fighter as Ghost and Soap, and his eyes held a safer gaze than the other two. He would hold your hand on the way home, firmly but protectively. However, he only did this after you attempted to run away from the group about 4 times.

Arriving at the Price household, there was an overwhelming amount of smells. Everything smelled like all the boys, but individually and in one unit all at the same time. You would stay close to the front door at the entrance, scared to step one foot further into the house. You still didn’t know if it was safe or not. Price respected this, though. He had Gaz let go of your hand so you could settle into the house at your own pace. The look of fear in your eyes was one that he was familiar with, he’d seen it in all his other boys when he first brought them home.

He had the boys all continue on with their night, only giving you directions to the bathroom in case you needed it at some point.

As time went on, your legs would grow tired of just standing. You remained seated, close to the door as you watched the household live out their lives. Price would only stop by you once for the night, and it was to give you a late-night snack and to wish you a good night. He had set down a plate with pieces of watermelon and a glass of water. He left after that, supposedly going to bed. The boys would stay up a bit later, they would watch you in secret. But you were quickly able to tell they were spying on you, however, you let them continue.

You saw it as a way to test if they were trustworthy. Your ears slightly twitch as you listen to their whispers.

“...how do you know them…?” Gaz would whisper, curiosity lacing his voice. “...Ghost and I have had a few tussles with ‘em years ago…” “...Fierce dog… don’t underestimate them…” Ghost grumbled in reply, Soap nodding in agreement. “...Nearly took mah whole face off…” Soap chuckled. “...They almost got my ears…” Ghost added.

You would faintly smile at the warning of underestimating you as a fighter dog. But then you were reminded that you were a fighter dog. And a successful one. Any moral being would never want to be a successful fighter dog. That meant you were scary and either could have killed or even mutilated another dog. Memories of all your fights would flash across your mind, like a blinding camera shot. Your successful ones, the ones where you would lose and your owner showed you what bad dogs get for losing. The bits of compassion you would feel for your opponent as they bleed out, or yowled in pain as their bones broke, pellets of skin torn off, or their bleeding gums from when you knocked nearly all their teeth out.

You wanted to hug them, apologize to them, tell them that you wished you could fix them. Only to have those moments of kindness wiped from your mind as the shrieks and cheers of your owner and the people who bet money on you were released into the air.

Coming back to reality, you were perplexed when you didn’t hear the whispers anymore. Taking a chance, you glanced up at the boys. Only to see that they were now staring at you, curious and worried. You didn’t know why they were staring until you heard a soft pit-pat against the floor beneath you.

Glancing down, you saw little droplets. Your hand instinctively raised to your face, feeling little beads of tears and the streaks they left behind on your face. You would quickly smear your tears away and shoot the dogs a mean growl before reluctantly stuffing a piece of watermelon into your mouth. You just wanted something else to focus on aside from the stares you were getting right now.

An hour later, the men had all gone to sleep and you had eaten all the food Price had given you and drank all the water he offered. You stayed awake throughout the whole night, however. You still didn’t trust anyone, believing the house was a trap.

Morning arrived, your eyes tired but still open as you didn’t want to lose your guard. Price was the first one up, yawning and scratching at his chest as he walked into the room. He would glance down at you, smiling when he saw you’d eaten all your food.

“Food was good, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll get you some more soon.” He chuckled, taking your empty dishes away and heading into the kitchen.

You felt awkward now, just sitting there as Price had begun to cook breakfast. You would quietly stand up and slink into the kitchen, sitting on the cold tile as you would watch him from a random corner of the room. It had been about ten minutes before Price would look over his shoulder to check on you, only seeing that you weren’t in your previous spot. He would then glance down at you in your new spot, chuckling to himself.

“Got bored of the old spot?” He asked before going back to cooking. He didn’t expect you to be speaking right out the gate, all the other boys were like that too when he first took them in. After a few minutes, Gaz would walk in, rubbing at his eye. A big smile formed on his face as he smelled the currently cooking food. “Smells good in here, Price.” He would then finally look at you, mildly surprised you had moved but he would regain his smile.

Waving at you, he would approach you but keep his distance. “Did you sleep well last night…?” You silently stared at him, your restlessness very obvious, especially in your eyes. “Did you sleep- at all last night…?” He looked concerned, his brows only furrowing more when you shook your head no. “...Too scared?” You stayed quiet. “That’s okay, Ghost and I were like that too.” He smiled at you. You couldn’t deny it, he was a comforting ball of sunshine to you.

“I could set up a bed on the couch for you, I could even keep the telly on for you if you like falling asleep to that sort of thing.” You remained quiet as he talked to you, causing him to let out a slightly amused but comforting huff. “That’s okay, you can think about it during breakfast.”

Breakfast included food that was the most delicious food you had devoured in years. French toast, fried eggs, bacon. You would quietly inhale the first actual meal you’d had in a long time, everyone else watching you at the kitchen table, some trying not to laugh at your eagerness.

You awkwardly stared at everyone else, wiping away some yolk on your mouth with your hand. Price chuckled, “That reminds me, we ought to give you a bath today and get you some new clothes.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You awkwardly sat in the tub as Gaz would scrub a sudsy sponge along your back. Price was washing some clothes, making sure the scent was cleaned out so you had no trouble with wearing them.

“Don’t worry, I was like this when Price first took me in.” He laughed a little. “Quiet, scared, and I didn’t know if this place was my permanent home. But it is my home, and it’s gonna be your home too.” He smiled at you, now rubbing shampoo into your hair. “...what’s it like?” You looked up at him. “Y’know, living here? What’s it like?”

Gaz thought for a bit, also trying to make sure none of the shampoo got in your eyes. “Well, it’s nice. Good food, good clothes, good comfort. Price will sometimes pick up our favorite snacks for us, he’ll do that for you too, you just need to ask him or write it on the grocery list. We go on weekly walks around the block, sometimes we go to the park which is really fun. Especially with Soap, he really likes to play games at the park.”

That surprised you, you never took Soap to be a ‘fun games at the park’ kind of dog. Well, that could also be because you never got to see him or Ghost as a domesticated dog, your only memories of them being in the fighting rink. Maybe they have changed. Maybe you should give them a chance to show you they’ve changed.

Maybe they were doing that all along since they found you, only holding you down instead of attacking you in response to being attacked by an old foe.

The bath was eventually drained and you were dried off with a towel, Price coming in with a pair of folded up clothes, a t-shirt and some sweatpants. You were left alone in the bathroom to get dressed, also to let you just have time to yourself.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom in your new attire. You couldn’t lie, the clothes were beyond comfy and were nice and warm. Probably fresh out of the dryer. The rest of the boys were on the couch, watching a show on the TV. You would stare at them before slowly beginning to move your legs towards the couch as well.

They would notice your approaching, but wouldn’t bring any extra attention to it. They all remember their first time trying to get comfortable in the new home. It honestly warmed their hearts watching you hesitate on where to sit before eventually picking a spot and huddling into the soft pillows.

Price was already dressed for the day and was writing down the current shopping list before slipping his shoes on. “Oy, Gaz, you’re coming with me for groceries today.” He called out to the couch, Gaz promptly getting up and putting his own shoes on. He waved to you and the other two before stepping out the front door, Price giving a wave as well. “We’ll be back in 30.”

You sat there in silence, now stuck with your past enemies. There was tension, no doubt. At least, that’s what you felt. You were the one who was constantly looking over at the boys, a nervous sweat forming on your forehead. The two were just sitting there, watching the commercials play and pass by.

Now that the only pacifists in the house were gone, they were going to pounce at any second. You were sure of it. At any given moment, they were gonna do it. So you sat there, in a state of constant fear and bracing yourself for a fight you didn’t even know would happen.

Ghost noticed your condition, Soap a few seconds later would see it too. “... you okay, pup?” Soap would ask, seeing the little bits of sweat on your skin. “You’re scared.” Ghost stated, looking deep into your defensive form. “You don’t need to be, you’re safe now. We all are. We aren’t the same dogs you fought those years ago.”

They continued to watch you, watching as you stayed quiet and just stared at them expectantly. “We know you’re also no’ the same dog from those fights. Ye dinnae have a choice, only doin’ tha’ for your own survival. Like us.” Soap’s eyes were full of empathy and concern.

“No need to be scared. It’s safe here.” He smiled at you, slowly reaching out to you to rub your shoulder.

You only saw the worst in people, you would see a possible future where he was reaching out to strangle you instead of comforting you. You thought you could see his teeth start to bare, maybe he was snarling at you.

You felt like you were back in the fighting ring. You could feel the adrenaline begin pulsing and coursing through your veins.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You didn’t know how you did it, it went by so fast. The last thing you saw was Soap’s teething smile and his hand. Now you were pressed up against a wall, hyperventilating at the sight of what you just did.

First, you grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground before you began to bite and tear at his flesh and clothes. You woke up when Ghost pinned you to the ground, keeping your wrists together so you couldn’t hurt anyone or yourself. You scrambled away from him and coward into a corner.

You thought you were doing good, only a day into this house and you were doing so good. You didn’t feel like a good pup, not anymore. You weren’t deserving of this house, these new clothes. the food that resided in your stomach. You were a bad dog. There was no way you could look any of the boys in the eye now. Not after what you did.

Lost in a tsunami of your thoughts, you couldn’t hear Ghost trying to reassure you, that it was normal for an outburst like this to happen. He, himself, did it to Price. He brought Soap to the bathroom, taking out the first aid kit along with a few extra bandages. Living in a house with a bunch of retired fighter dogs, the first aid kits would be a bit more extreme than a regular, everyday one.

When he returned to check on you, to tell you that Soap was going to be okay, he didn’t see you in your corner. Not even the spot you were in on your first day here. But he saw that right next to the spot, the door was left open.

They lost you. ───♡───────────── End

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fatecantstopme · 8 months ago

Text

I Can't Walk Away

Pairing: Nick Amaro x plus size!reader

Summary: When you and your boyfriend break up, you're faced with the seemingly impossible task of putting yourself back together. Luckily for you, your very handsome coworker is more than happy to help along the way.

Warnings: Body image issues, low self-esteem, mentions of toxic/abusive relationships, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, light dom/sub vibes, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V).

A/N: This was entirely self-indulgent and I have no regrets.

Spanish Translations:

Querida: sweetheart/darling

Hermosa: beautiful

Mierda: shit

Por favor: please

Si: yes

All other translations will be after the sentence in brackets/italics.

You dropped onto Olivia's couch with a huff, tears still threatening to break through your stubborn facade.

"Are we gonna talk about it or do I need to have someone beat him up?" Liv asked you, a small smirk gracing her face.

"As much as I'd love to see his ass get handed to him, I think we should avoid committing any crimes," you said lightly.

Olivia sighed softly and reached over to put her arm around you. You leaned into her shoulder and began to let your guard drop. Olivia had been your best friend for over a decade now, your time working together in SVU having brought you closer than you could have imagined.

"He was an asshole, (Y/N/N)," she said softly. "You deserve better."

"You say that, but I guess I just don't believe it," you muttered.

It nearly broke her heart to hear you speak so negatively of yourself, but she knew no matter how many uplifting words she spoke, you would still refuse to believe her.

"Maybe there's something wrong with me," you whispered, tears finally beginning to fall. "Maybe I'm broken--unloveable."

"Hey," she chided. "You are so many things, (Y/N), but broken and unloveable are not among them."

She tightened her grip on you, pulling you into a proper side hug. She let you cry into her shoulder, her own heart breaking along with yours.

You knew, objectively, she was right--your now-ex was indeed an asshole. He'd never treated you well and had often put you down and made you feel terrible about yourself. Your self-esteem had been lower than usual when you met him and in the 6 months you'd been together, he'd managed to destroy whatever vestige of self-love you had left.

There wasn't a single thing about you he didn't belittle. Whether it was your physical appearance, your career, your hobbies, your dreams...he made you feel like everything you ever did was a mistake. In his estimation, you were too fat, unintelligent, boring...and your choice in career was just about the worst thing you could do.

You'd made it your mission in life to help the victims of particularly heinous crimes, which is why you'd been working at SVU for almost 12 years. You were the squad's forensic psychologist, and you loved your work. In many respects, it was the one thing that really brought joy to your life. It was your greatest passion--and the amount of time you spent at work certainly showed it.

Yet during those 6 months with him...your love for the job had begun to wane. Every time you'd stay late or have to cancel a date, he'd berate you for it--mocking your job and your inability to 'be a real person'. Now that you'd finally taken the leap and broken up with him, you were hopeful you could fall back in love with your work.

In this moment, however, all you could think about were the horrible things he'd said to you when you told him you wanted to break up. He'd been especially cruel, calling out every physical insecurity you had and making you feel like an absolute pile of human garbage. He'd called you fat, ugly, unloveable, gross...and a million other things you couldn't bear to repeat.

You weren't thin--you knew that, but you weren't gross. That was just offensive. Unfortunately, he wasn't the first ex to make comments about your weight--something you'd been struggling with for most of your adult life. The words had hit you harder than you'd expected, making you actually think he might be right...maybe you were the problem.

Olivia's voice broke you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

You just nodded, not trusting your voice to answer her properly.

She squeezed you a little tighter, her reassuring presence grounding you in ways you desperately needed. You were always thankful for her friendship, but it was moments like this where you were reminded how much she really meant to you.

**********

You'd spent most of the weekend at Olivia's and by the time Monday rolled around, you were feeling a little bit better. She always knew what to do and say to make everything okay. It was a gift you'd always envied and appreciated.

It was very typical of you to be the first person in the office, having been an early riser most of your life. So you were more than a little surprised when you walked into the precinct Monday morning and spotted Nick Amaro sitting at his desk.

"You're in early," you commented lightly in lieu of greeting.

He turned his gaze to look over at you and shot you a disarming smile. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I might as well get a head start on some paperwork I've been putting off."

"Wise man. Wouldn't want to upset the boss."

He grinned. "She's strict." His voice was teasing and warm and it made you feel something in your gut you always tried to ignore.

In truth, you were extremely attracted to Nick--it was undeniable. You had not, nor would you ever, tell him or act on it. Nick was so far out of your league it wasn't even funny. Besides, he was newly single, still fresh from his divorce.

"She can be calmed with good coffee and blueberry muffins," you said conspiratorially.

Nick chuckled. "I'm gonna have to write that down."

You offered him a smile before continuing past him to your office. You were surprised when his voice stopped you after a few steps.

"How was your weekend?"

You turned back to face him. "Friday was absolute shit," you said honestly. "But I spent Saturday and part of yesterday with Liv, so it's better now."

A look of concern crossed his face. "Everything okay?"

You feigned a smile. "Everything's fine. Thanks for asking."

His eyes narrowed as he gazed at you skeptically. "Is it that guy again?"

Your cheeks darkened, embarrassed Nick even knew about your ex. "We broke up."

Nick almost looked relieved. "I would say sorry, but it wouldn't be honest. I never liked the guy--he didn't treat you right."

You were surprised he paid enough attention to the things you said to know just how badly your ex had treated you. "Oh?"

Nick stood up and took a couple steps closer to you. He was still a professional distance away, but he could speak quieter so only you could hear him.

"You deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. You're an amazing woman, (Y/N), and a good man would never treat you the way he did. He clearly didn't recognize your worth."

His words slammed into you with surprising force. "I-um-thank you," you muttered softly.

"You can thank me by dating a man who will love you the way you deserve," he said lowly. "Como una reina." [Like a queen.]

His last three words were so quiet you weren't even sure you'd heard him properly--or if you were supposed to hear them at all. You weren't fluent in Spanish by any means, but you understood the basics...enough to know he'd said something about a queen. That is, if you heard him correctly.

You were about to ask him to elaborate when Olivia came into the squad room. She sent a warm smile your way and issued greetings to both you and Nick. Her arrival broke whatever spell Nick had been under, and he went back to his desk quietly.

You went into your office, leaving the door open behind you so you could hear the goings on and the arrival of the rest of the squad. There were plenty of things for you to do, but you couldn't get Nick's words out of your head.

**********

Olivia looked up from her computer when Nick knocked on the doorframe entering her office.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked.

"Sure," she said with a smile.

He came in and quietly shut the door behind him.

"Uh-oh...closed door conversation? Everything okay?"

"With me, yes," he answered. "But I wanted to ask you something and I don't want anyone overhearing."

"Okay..."

"It's about (Y/N)."

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "What about her?"

"She mentioned she'd spent the weekend with you and she and that asshole broke up."

Olivia chuckled softly, glad to hear she wasn't the only one who hated your ex.

"I know it's not really my business, but I can tell something is really upsetting her. Hell, I've noticed a change in her since the moment they started dating--and not in a good way."

"He isn't a good person," Olivia conceded.

"Tell me about it," Nick muttered. "Anyway, I just--well, I just want to know if she's okay? I mean, really okay."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"I did, but I know she wasn't being honest with me."

Olivia sighed. She had a feeling he was asking about you for a reason, but she wasn't sure it was her place to tell him the truth. She was torn between being honest with her partner and keeping her best friend's pain to herself.

"I don't know if it's my place to tell you, but he did say some particularly cruel things about her when she broke up with him."

Nick's eyes narrowed and Olivia could see the anger flare in them. "What did he say to her?" Even his voice was laced with fury--the mere idea someone would hurt you sent him off the edge.

"I can't tell you," Olivia answered. "But if you really want to know, then I think you should talk to her. She trusts you, so she may open up to you."

Nick nodded, anger still boiling beneath the surface. "You're right--I didn't mean to intrude or anything."

Olivia shook her head. "It's alright. I know you care about her...I guess I'm just a little surprised by your anger."

He winced slightly, feeling embarrassed for his display of emotion. "I don't like the idea of some guy making her feel like shit."

"Neither do I," she said honestly. "I am curious though...what made you ask about her?"

"Wha-what do you mean?"

Olivia smiled slowly. "I mean, why do you want to know badly enough to ask me?"

Nick had a feeling Olivia could see right through him--they'd been partners for a few years after all. He wasn't sure how to answer--or if he wanted to be entirely truthful. In the end, he opted for vague honesty. "I care about her."

Olivia watched his expression in silence for a long moment before responding. "So do I."

Nick could see the meaning behind her words as clearly as if she'd spoken them aloud--don't hurt my friend. He didn't say it, but he hoped Olivia knew he would never hurt you...it would break his heart.

**********

"Hey (Y/N/N). You busy?"

You looked up to see Nick standing in your office doorway, leaning against the frame. You swallowed thickly as you pushed down the improper thoughts blazing through your mind at the sight.

"Uh--no. What's up?"

He stepped into the room, edging closer to your desk. "I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight. My treat."

You raised your eyebrows at him, unsure of the cause of his request. "Is there some sort of celebration I'm unaware of?"

He chuckled lightly. "Other than your new-found freedom, no. I just...well, I wanted to spend a little time with you. Ya know, if you want."

You bit your bottom lip as you contemplated his offer. "Well, I don't have any other plans, so why not?"

He grinned. "Excellent. Do you want time to go home first or just leave from here?"

You looked down at your outfit, suddenly feeling very frumpy and unattractive. You knew he wasn't asking you out on a date--just a friend inviting you to dinner to cheer you up. Even still, you really didn't want to go out looking like this. "Do you mind if I go home and change first?"

"Not at all. I can pick you up from your place, if you'd like?"

"Oh, uh-yeah. Sure."

He smiled again. "Perfect. 6:30?"

You nodded. "Sounds good."

You watched him walk out of your office, mind racing as you tried to figure out his motivations and what the hell you were gonna wear.

**********

By the time 6pm rolled around, you'd managed to change your clothes somewhere in the realm of 50 times, and you still weren't entirely satisfied. Even your favorite outfit didn't feel right--you could hear your ex's voice in the back of your mind telling you everything you tried on looked bad.

You dug further into your closet, looking for something simple--cover the things you wanna hide and accentuate the things you wanna show off. Your eyes fell on a beautiful black dress you'd actually never worn. You'd purchased it on a whim because you'd loved it in the store and Olivia had insisted it was too perfect to pass up on.

You pulled the dress off the hanger and put it on, pleased it still fit properly. When you turned to look in the mirror, you almost didn't recognize yourself--you actually felt pretty. The bodice of the dress was tight, but the lower half was flowy. The material was a soft, stretch satin, with a low neckline and flutter sleeves. The dress hit right above your knees and it practically screamed for a pair of heels.

You found your favorite black pumps, slipping them on and smiling at your reflection. You put on some jewelry to spice up the look, sprayed your favorite perfume, and double checked your hair and makeup one last time. You didn't wear much makeup on the daily, so you didn't go too wild with your makeup for the evening. You'd added some eyeliner and lipstick, but otherwise you looked natural. You'd actually been having a good hair day already, so you were pleased to see it was still behaving properly.

You'd just put the last finishing touches on the outfit when you heard the buzzer ring. You quickly went to answer it, and upon hearing Nick's voice, told him you'd be right down.

You took one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs feeling both excited and trepidatious. You reminded yourself once again this was just two friends having dinner--purely platonic...but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't want it to be an actual date.

Nick was waiting just outside the front entrance to your apartment building, and he turned around when he heard the door open. Nothing could have prepared you for the look on his face when he saw you.

"Santa mierda," he breathed. "You look incredible." [Holy shit.]

You blushed and looked away. "Thank you," you mumbled softly.

He stepped towards you and gently touched your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. "You're very welcome."

He dropped his hand, but his eyes stayed fixed on your face for a long moment. "Do you like Italian?" he asked.

"Of course," you answered, silently pleased your voice sounded normal.

"Excellent." He gestured towards his car and you followed behind him. He opened the passenger door and helped you in before getting in the driver's seat.

The drive wasn't very long, and your nerves kept you quiet for most of the ride. You listened to him chatter on about nothing, simply enjoying the sound of his voice.

When you arrived at the restaurant, he once again opened your door and helped you out, but this time his hand didn't leave yours. He placed your hand through the loop he'd made with his arm and guided you to the entrance.

Once you were seated, your nerves began to ratchet up even higher. Unfortunately for you, Nick was both an extremely good detective and an annoyingly perceptive person. As such, he noticed your discomfort immediately.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you lied.

"It's just me, (Y/N/N)," he said quietly.

You exhaled slowly--realizing he was right. It was Nick for God's sake. He was your colleague, your friend. There was no reason to be nervous. "You're right."

He smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. He pulled it back to his side of the table as the server arrived for your drink order.

You were grateful for the glass of wine he delivered moments later, lifting it to your lips almost immediately. You knew the liquid would calm your nerves--maybe then you wouldn't embarrass yourself.

"I'm glad you agreed to have dinner with me," Nick said softly as he sipped his own glass of wine.

"I was a little surprised, in all honesty."

"That I asked or that you agreed?" he teased lightly.

You smiled. "Definitely the former."

"I hate seeing you upset," he admitted. "I thought I might be able to cheer you up a little."

"Thanks, Nick. You're a good friend."

His face fell slightly, but he quickly hid it behind a soft smile. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Whatever he was going to ask was cut off by the arrival of the server to take your food order.

As soon as the server left the table, Nick leaned forward and lowered his voice. "What did he say to you that hurt you so much?"

"What?"

"Your ex."

Your expression shifted and you looked down at the table. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"Why?"

"Because whatever he said hurt you--and I'm willing to bet my career that he was wrong."

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his. His expression was deadly serious, yet it somehow put you at ease in a way only Nick could. "He said some unpleasant things about my physical appearance that I could have lived without hearing."

Surprise lit up his handsome face. "Unpleasant things about your appearance? I'll bet my life he was wrong."

Now it was your turn to be surprised. "I wouldn't make that bet, Nick."

"I'm confident. Tell me what he said and I'll judge for myself."

You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before giving him a quick overview. "Essentially he said I'm unattractive and fat--I recall the word 'gross' being used as well."

Nick's temper flared instantly, the urge to punch that son of a bitch in the face nearly overwhelming. "He said what?"

Even if you didn't know Nick, you would have been able to see the rage simmering in his eyes, hear it in his tone. "It's not a big deal."

"If he was here, I'd launch him through a window. Bastard."

"I'm okay," you reassured him quietly.

Your soft voice grounded him, as it so often did, and he felt his anger dissipating. He was still angry, but the urge to hunt that asshole down had begun to fade.

"He was wrong, you know."

"Huh?"

"He was wrong. Not only are you one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on, but your body is perfectly proportioned--deliciously soft and curvy. You're about as far from gross as a human being can be."

He spoke with such conviction, such assuredness, that you almost believed him--almost.

"While I appreciate the compliment, Nick, you've never seen me naked...your opinion would change, trust me."

Nick's eyes flared with a new kind of intensity. "I highly doubt that."

"His did," you said quietly.

"He clearly didn't know what he had."

Your eyes met his, shoulders tense, discomfort obvious in every movement you made.

"Listen to me, (Y/N). I'll say it as many times as it takes for you to believe me--I think you're gorgeous. Stunning. Elegante. Sin fin perfecta." [Elegant. Endlessly perfect.] He reached for your hand and you let him take it in his. "You are a prize, (Y/N). Any man worth a damn would be honored to call you his."

You didn't know what to say. His words surprised you and warmed your soul at the same time. You could also feel the familiar tightening in your gut, accompanied by an entire swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach.

"Forget every terrible thing he ever said to you, hermosa. Let me fill your mind with praise. Let me remind you of your beauty, inside and out, of your brilliance, of your kindness, your empathy...of all the little things that make you the incredible woman you are."

"Nick..." you whispered, his name the only coherent thing you were able to utter.

The moment was shattered by the arrival of your food. You'd been hungry when you sat down at the table, but your body was now flooded with a very different kind of hunger--a hunger you now believed Nick shared.

"Thank you, Nick," you said softly. "I know it's not nearly enough, but thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. I meant every word."

You gave him a small smile. "Still..."

He returned the expression.

The two of you ate in silence for several minutes, minds clearly elsewhere. After a while, Nick noticed you'd done more moving the food around the plate than actually eating and he called you out on it.

"Eat your food, querida. You'll need your strength."

Your head snapped up, eyes meeting his gaze. "For what?"

He leaned forward. "If you'll let me, I'm going to spend several hours showing you exactly how sexy I think you are."

You gulped. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

He grinned wolfishly. "By worshipping that amazing body of yours...over and over again, until you're screaming my name."

You suddenly found it very difficult to breathe, let alone eat. Nick, on the other hand, went right back to eating his food as if he hadn't just threatened you with an incredibly good time.

You had to force yourself to focus on your food, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs.

As soon as the meal was over, Nick asked for the check and paid, revealing just how desperate he was to get back to your place.

Once again, he helped you into the car, only this time his hand lingered on the small of your back.

Anticipation flooded through you as Nick drove through the streets of the city. You'd wanted him for so long--never once thinking he'd reciprocate the desire. Despite his words earlier in the evening, you still felt a shred of self-doubt...worrying he might not find you as attractive once you were naked.

"Where's that pretty head at, querida?" he asked softly, noticing your anxiety.

"Can you promise me something?"

"Of course."

"If you don't want to go through with this...you know, when you see me without my clothes on...please just tell me. I don't want you to feel like you have to do something you don't wanna do."

He reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. "I don't have to promise that because I know what I want, (Y/N)...and that's you. You could be a alien underneath those clothes and I'd still want you."

You laughed lightly. "I promise I'm not an alien."

He grinned. "Then we're gonna be just fine, baby."

You closed your eyes, silently willing yourself to believe him. You trusted him with your life--something you'd never experienced with any of your past relationships. Every fiber of your being told you Nick would never hurt you on purpose--never. You just needed to trust him--let go of your pain and give in to your desires.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, Nick gave you a gentle reminder. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to, (Y/N)."

"I want to," you whispered.

He inhaled slowly and took a step towards you. "Say 'no' or 'stop' and I'll stop immediately, okay? No hard feelings--I won't push you."

"I don't want to say no, Nick."

He took another step towards you, effectively backing you against the wall. "If you wanna stop--"

"Nick, please just kiss me," you begged softly.

He groaned softly before leaning in to press his lips to yours. His kiss was like fire and ice--more addictive than any drug known to man. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe--like he would rather suffocate to death than stop.

He pressed his warm body against yours, wedging his knee between your thighs to keep you from squeezing them together. His tongue tangled with yours, quickly asserting dominance as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands went to the buttons on his white button down, quickly undoing them in a desperate need to feel his skin. He helped you remove the shirt, followed by his undershirt, leaving his toned chest bare for you to see.

You bit your lip and stifled a soft groan as you appreciated his form.

"You can touch me, querida," he said softly. "I wanna feel your soft hands on my skin."

You did as he asked, hands gliding over his smooth, tan skin. He sighed softly and leaned into your touch, lips grazing your jaw affectionately.

Your hands traveled to his hips and you began to loosen his belt. He allowed you to unbutton his pants and he helped you remove them.

"I think you're a bit overdressed for the occasion, hermosa," he teased huskily.

You tensed slightly, a feeling of dread washing over you.

Of course, Nick felt it and instantly began to sooth your worries. "You can keep on as much as you want, querida, but I want to see you. I've wanted to touch you like this since the day I met you. But if you're more comfortable keeping your clothes on, that's alright."

You looked up at him, his dark eyes warm and honest. You took a deep breath and pushed him back slightly, giving yourself the room to pull your dress off over your head.

You dropped your dress to the ground, but your eyes didn't meet his gaze--you couldn't even bring yourself to look at his face, too afraid of what you might see there.

"Querida, por favor," Nick whispered. "Look at me."

You looked up at him slowly, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you took in his hungry expression.

"I wanna kiss every square inch of your beautiful body, hermosa. Will you let me?"

You nodded tentatively.

"I need to hear you say it, baby," he pleaded.

"I want you Nick, please."

He groaned and pressed his body against yours again. "Say that again, querida."

"I want you," you whispered.

"Fuck--" He slammed his lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth almost immediately. You melted in his arms, reveling in the feeling of his body against yours.

He finally pulled away to catch his breath, but his hands didn't leave your body. Now that he'd touched you so intimately, he never wanted to stop.

"Come with me," he whispered, before guiding you to your bedroom. "Lay down on the bed for me, querida."

You did as he asked, noticing how his eyes never left your body.

He made sure you were looking at him before he began to lower his boxer briefs, slowly revealing his large cock. He was already painfully hard, a bead of precum lingering at the tip.

You licked your lips in anticipation, an action he noticed with pride.

"Like what you see, hermosa?"

"Very much so."

He smiled and climbed onto the bed, covering your soft body with his hard one. "May I take off your bra?"

You nodded.

"Baby..." he said in a clear warning tone.

You understood his meaning instantly, a flood of arousal going straight to your core at the order. "Yes, papi."

His eyes widened for a moment, surprised and pleased at your use of the title. "Such a good girl, aren't you?"

A soft moan left your lips at the praise and he smiled to himself, pleased he was able to suss out what you liked.

His hand snaked around your back, deftly unclasping your bra with surprising ease. The moment your breasts were bared to his gaze, his mouth descended on you, taking a pert nipple into his mouth.

You moaned softly, fingers intertwining into his dark locks. His lips and hands massaged your breasts, giving them equal attention. True to his word, he moved tantalizingly slowly down your body, kissing every inch of skin he could, while avoiding where you needed him most.

By the time he made his way back up to your face, you were begging him to touch your pussy--pleading for some relief.

"Nick, please--I need you."

"What did you call me?" he asked harshly.

Your eyes widened lustfully. "I'm sorry, papi!"

He smiled, ghosting his fingers across your still-clothed pussy. "That's my good girl."

You whimpered at the feather-light touches he placed to your mound, desperate for more. "Please, papi."

"Hmm? Qué deseas?" [What do you want?]

"Please touch me," you begged.

"I am touching you, querida."

"More, papi. Please!"

He smiled. "Normally I'd take my time teasing you--making you beg for what you want...but if I'm being honest, I'm as desperate to touch you as you are to feel it, so I'll be nice to you this time."

He tugged your panties off quickly before spreading your thighs as wide as he could, revealing your dripping wet folds.

"All this for me, baby?" he growled.

"Only you, papi," you responded.

"Yeah? No one else makes you this wet?"

You shook your head vehemently. "No one else."

"Now I have one rule, hermosa. I wanna hear you--every little sound coming out of that pretty mouth. Be as loud as you want. Entiendes?" [Understand?]

"Si, papi," you whimpered.

He smirked as he lowered himself down onto the bed between your legs. His strong hands gripped your hips and he tugged you as close to his face as he could before diving into your pussy with a deep groan of pleasure.

You gasped at the sensation, the sound quickly becoming moans of enjoyment. Nick was quite skilled with his mouth--his tongue alone made you feel things you'd never before experienced.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging at the roots as you desperately sought your release.

Nick held you in place as he continued his assault on your pussy, ensuring he had complete control over your pleasure.

"Feels so good," you gasped. "Gonna cum, papi."

He groaned against your clit, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. He could feel how close you were by the way your thighs tried to close and your grip on his hair tightened.

Your moans became more desperate--needy, and he slid two fingers into your pussy, gently pressing into your g-spot rapidly.

You cried out, legs shaking slightly, seconds before your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave. His name left your lips in a gasped scream as he worked you through your high, only stopping when you began to squirm away.

You were completely breathless when he lifted his head, mouth and chin soaked in your juices. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth on his hand, licking it clean as he maintained eye contact with you. "You taste so good baby...I can't get enough."

You reached for him and he obliged, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue, a soft sound of pleasure escaping into his mouth.

"Querida," he whispered against your lips. "I need to be inside you."

"Please," you whimpered.

"Do you have protection?"

"I'm on the pill..."

"I'm clean," he assured you.

"Me too."

He lined his cock up with your entrance and looked back up at your face. "Are you sure, hermosa?"

"Si papi. I want you to fuck me."

He groaned softly before thrusting into you, sheathing himself fully inside of you in one swift movement.

You cried out, the stretch both overwhelming and extremely pleasurable all at once. You clutched his neck and he breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.

"You can move," you whispered.

"Not yet, querida. I need a moment."

"Are you okay?" you asked in concern.

"Your pussy feels so damn incredible, baby...I'm just trying to control myself so I don't hurt you."

You bit your lip and lifted his face up to look at you. "I like a little bit of pain, papi." You clenched your pussy tightly for emphasis.

"Mierda," he ground out. "You sure?"

"Fuck me senseless, Nick. Por favor."

As much as he loved you calling him 'papi', hearing you say his name like that made him feral. He pulled out and thrust back in harshly, starting a fast, hard pace.

"Baby, say my name again," he begged.

"Nick," you moaned lowly.

"Fuck." He was fucking you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do and you'd never experienced anything like it.

You felt the coil tightening in your abdomen, and for the first time in your life, you knew you were going to cum during penetration. Your moans were loud enough to wake the neighbors, your nails dug into his muscular back, and your pussy had his cock in a vice grip.

"You gonna cum for me, (Y/N)?"

You nodded rapidly, unable to voice a response. The only thing coming out of your mouth was a string of incoherent moans and pleas.

"I wanna feel you cum, baby. Cubre mi polla." [Coat my cock.]

"Nick!" you whined.

"What do you need, querida? Tell me."

"More," you whimpered.

He slipped his hand between your bodies and began to gently massage your clit. "This what you need, baby?"

"Nick!" you screamed. "Don't stop!"

"That's it, baby. That's it. I've got you. Cum for me, querida. Ven por mí." [Come for me.]

You cried out in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure overwhelmed your senses. You clung to him desperately, as if he was a life raft while you were adrift in the ocean.

He began to chase his own high as you came down, your awareness coming back to you. His thrusts were fast and rough, his breathing ragged.

"I want you to cum for me, papi. Fill me up," you begged.

"Dios mio! You feel so good, baby. Wanna cum for you."

You clenched your pussy as tightly as you could, desperate for him to enjoy this as much as you did.

"(Y/N)!" he cried out as he came, his hot seed filling you up.

His thrusts slowed and faltered before he finally collapsed on top of you, breathless and satiated.

You held him close, running your fingers through his hair as he caught his breath. You were a little worried he would regret this now that it was over, but your fears were assuaged the moment he lifted his head to look at you.

His beautiful brown eyes were warm and loving as he gazed at you, happiness and contentment clear in his expression. "That was incredible," he murmured softly.

You blushed slightly. "You were incredible."

"As were you, querida."

He pressed his lips to yours as he pulled himself up. He rolled onto his side and pulled you with him, so your head rested against his chest.

"I'm thinking we take a power nap, then we go for round two," Nick said softly.

"Round two?!"

He grinned. "I did promise you I was gonna worship this sexy body of yours for hours."

"I didn't think you were serious, Nick," you said with a chuckle.

"Oh, baby, I'm always serious about worshipping you. I think you'll learn that very quickly."

You smiled and kissed his chest softly. You debated whether you wanted to voice the question that popped into your head, but once again, Nick beat you to it.

"You know this isn't a one time thing, right?" Nick asked gently. "I mean, unless you want it to be."

You looked up at him, expression soft and affectionate. "I was actually just going to ask you that."

He grinned. "So...you saying you might wanna see me again?"

"I see you every day, Nick," you teased.

"I mean like this, hermosa. Naked in your bed, making you scream my name, giving you as much pleasure as your pretty little body will take."

Your breath hitched in your chest, giving away just how badly you wanted that. "That too."

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. "If I'm lucky, you'll let me take you out more too. Dinner, dancing, walks in the park, musicals...whatever you want. Wherever you go, I want to be there too."

Your eyes widened in surprise and tears filled them. You'd never had someone speak to you the way Nick did, let alone want to be with you in the way he just described.

"Querida," he whispered as he wiped your eyes. "Don't cry."

"Tears of joy," you assured him. "I promise."

His expression warmed, filling with the love and admiration he clearly felt for you. "So you'll be mine then? Exclusively?"

Your lips parted and you smiled. "I would love that."

He smiled back. "Thank god...because whether you knew it or not, I've been yours exclusively for the past year."

"What?"

He blushed slightly. "I...well I've wanted to be with you since my marriage fell apart, but I didn't want you to think you were some kind of rebound, so I kept myself professional. It's gotten harder and harder to do and then seeing you dating someone who treated you so terribly knowing full-well I would die for you made it nearly impossible."

"I didn't know," you whispered.

"I went to great lengths to make sure of that," Nick said softly. "But now that I have you? Now that I know what it's like to touch you, hold you, kiss you, make love to you? Baby, I can't walk away. You're stuck with me."

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, straddling his strong body. You leaned down to kiss him softly, pouring all of your emotion into the kiss. "There's no one I'd rather be stuck with, Nick Amaro," you whispered against his lips.

He grinned and wrapped his arms around you, kissing you with as much passion as he could muster. He was determined to spend every minute of the rest of his life making sure you knew how incredible you were, how much he appreciated you, and how madly in love with you he would always be.

#nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x reader smut #nick amaro x plus size reader #nick amaro x plus size reader smut #nick amaro smut #law and order svu #law and order svu smut

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solitary-traveler · 5 months ago

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Tags: cursing, established relationship, shitty writin

Scaramouche x gn reader

"Here, have one!"

With a teasing grin and a jaunty bounce, your fingers practically poke and prod at Scaramouche’s face, a cream puff perched in your palm. "It tastes so good!"

The man’s face merely recoils at the horrifying sight in front of him. What an absolute disaster. The saccharine filled treat was an abomination, and the longer he stared, the stronger the urge to vomit. He swats your hand away in disgust. "No. Get that sugary garbage out of my face."

"It’s not garbage” you protest, batting your eyelashes as if that would help your case. "You just have terrible taste."

Scara rolls his eyes, crossing his arms with his usual scowl. “Please, I’d rather not die of diabetes”

With a sigh, you conceded. For now. Much to your dismay, your boyfriend was stubborn. Fortunately, you were relentless. With an impish sneer, you unleash your award winning puppy eyes, your lashes flutter for good measure. "Just one bite?"

Scara nearly disintegrated. How he scorned you, the idiot who’s somehow well educated when it came to his weakness. "Just one bite? You’d better not expect me to eat the whole thing” he mutters, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He snatched the treat with a frown, he narrowed his indigo eyes at the devil’s work that was now perched on his hands, "Now stop pouting. It's annoying."

He gingerly inspected the cream puff, like a soldier facing battle. The sheer sweetness radiating from it was already making his stomach turn. Oh the stupid things he does for this stupid feeling called love. Still, with a defeated sigh his teeth make contact with the bread. His eyes widen momentarily, his senses sent to overdrive by the honeyed confection. He sputters and gags, spitting out the small piece he reluctantly bit into, before glaring at you as if you’d just posioned him.

"Too. Fucking. Sweet" he growls, wiping his pink lips. You laugh, watching him recoil as though he’d been physically attacked. You then yoink the rejected pastry from his hand, not hesitating to scarf it down your throat. "Mmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about. The crust is perfect—crispy and buttery. And the cream? Oh, the cream is smooth, rich, and just the right amount of sweet…"

As you ramble on about the wonders of the cream puff, Scara watches you with a raised eyebrow. His mouth was still reeling from the burst of flavor. His frown deepens, and finally, he cuts you off.

"How can you eat that without gagging?" His voice is a mix of irritation and fascination. "I don’t get it. You actually like that stuff?"

You shrug, still munching on the treat. "Everyone has their own tastes. Is there any sweet you do like? Or are all desserts banned for my grumpy boyfriend?"

He pauses, pretending to think it over, though something mischievous flickers behind his indigo eyes. "Well," he starts, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "there is one."

You perk up, genuinely curious. "Oh? What is it?"

Scaramouche leans in a little, eyes glinting with that familiar deviousness you know all too well. His gaze travels over you slowly, taking in your innocent expression. And then, with a low, husky voice, he delivers his answer:

"Creampie."

Notes: This was just for me to get back into writing lmfaoo. Sorry for the shitty punchline 😔

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itsmewillful · 7 months ago

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I will Always Find You

Main Masterlist

Character Masterlist:

(Vox x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5782 (i got too carried away)

Outline: You, the wife of the infamous media overlord Vox, falls from Heaven and you find yourself in a chaotic new world. You meet the Hazbin Hotel crew, but most of all, you met him. Your long lost love.

Warning(s): Canon typical violence, language, etcetera.

A/N: Heyy guys, I totally was not gone for an entire year. . .but, I'm done with High School now so I will probably start posting a little bit more often. . .*no promises though. my memory is absolute garbage*

Also, why am I obsessed with a TV?

Story below the cut:

Heaven.

The place all virtuous and 'perfect' people ascend to after living the life every good person is meant.

You don't even know how you got here. You always thought that you would go to Hell. (Not to put it lightly) Perhaps it was because you were widowed at a rather young age. Perhaps it was because you were murdered by your late husband's arch rival. Or maybe, it was a bit of all.

Your life on earth wasn't bad per se. In fact, you had a very happy life. You got married at the fruitful age of 20, to your best friend, and lived in a very comfortable home. Your husband, Vincent Holland, was a big-time news reporter in your hometown.

But, why was it in Heaven that almost all your memories regarding Vincent were blurry? As if someone with significant power was preventing you from reminiscing on your past life?

You could barely remember his face; his award winning smile. His sapphire blue eyes, and his dark hair.

You hated this.

You couldn't even remember how long ago you died.

Hell, you couldn't even remember how you died. Just that you were murdered one day and your body was left to rot in a random alley.

A hand waving in front of your face interrupted your sad train of thoughts, and your attention immediately shifted back to your friend. Or acquaintance, you weren't exactly sure where your friendship status lay.

"You alright there, partner?"

You sighed slowly and nodded your head in affirmation. You weren't sure if you were doing it to convince them that you were okay, or yourself.

"I'm alright, Kai, just a bit tired ," you mumbled pathetically. Kai was a very beautiful shark-like angel. You met them some time ago and instantly clicked with one another. But, Kai was one of those people that had a tendency of gossiping with their girlfriend Molly. And you were never comfortable sharing anything beyond your life in Heaven.

Which was a pity because you were sure if you shared it, you wouldn't feel so fucking stressed out.

The shark angel let out a small laugh and gently patted your head.

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say m'lady. You know if there's anything bothering you, you could always talk to me or Molly, right?"

You again nodded your head, even though you probably would never take up the offer.

"Hey you guys! How are you both doing?"

Speak of the devil and he shalt appear.

"Hey Molly! I see you're finally off of work?"

"Yup! And I brought a treat for you both!" Molly said in a sing-song tone of voice. Kai smiled with a nearly evil-like grin and made grabby hands at their girlfriend.

"Gimme, I can smell the baked goods!"

You chuckled at Kai's antics and stood up from the chair you were sitting in. Kai raised a brow at you and you motioned with your hand that you were going to get another drink. You picked up your now empty whisky bottle and began to head over to the bar where you and Kai find yourselves frequently whenever you both have had a long day at work.

The bartender, Mr Smiles (as Molly so lovingly named him) greeted you with a very drunken smirk when you arrived at your favourite destination.

"Hello there, Mrs. Holland. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You rolled your eyes and sat down on one of the barstools, placing your cup down and sliding it over to the bartender.

"Another, please." you said simply. Mr. Smiles blinked at you before grabbing your cup and pouring more of the golden liquid into it.

"The 'Another' for the lady." he said cheekily, to which you giggled. You snatched the cup up from the table and practically downed the strong liquid and forced back a gag when it burned your throat. The bartender chuckled at your silliness and leaned over the bar so you could hear each other better over the loud chatter of the Cloud Nine bar. (You and Kai always found the name of the bar to be hilarious)

"So, you never drink this much unless you have something to spill. Need to talk about something sweetheart?" he asked with a patient tone of voice.

You sighed dramatically and leaned back against your chair, deep in thought.

"I just. . ." you trailed off in thought before sighing again in annoyance at your capability of explaining your biggest problem.

"You just?" he tried to urge you to continue, but was rudely interrupted when a flock of angels came bursting into the room.

"His Holiness, Archangel Michael needs to discuss important matters in Town Square. Everyone present is required to make an audience immediately."

Murmurs began to fill the room in confusion of the sudden announcement. You raised your brow at the bartender, quietly asking him if he knew what all the commotion was about. He shrugged before continuing on with putting the remaining glasses away.

"Hey, partner, we need to head out to Town Square." Kai said, putting a webbed hand onto your shoulder. You nodded and stood up, following close behind your two buddies. Molly, like always, had a small hop to her step as if she was always happy and excited about things. Her partner smiled at her giddiness and soon began to also skip along with her.

Oh, how much you missed being able to have someone to be close with. And once again, your thoughts began to turn back to your late husband, Vincent.

You missed him so much.

And you were fully aware that your beloved Vincent was in Hell. The place you were also sure to go to when you kicked the bucket. But alas, here you are, in the city of silver and gold.

You stopped abruptly when you reached Town Square and noticed how big of a crowd was already there. Thousands of angels and souls alike, all stood cramped up around a huge balcony that belonged to Archangel Palace.

The chatter began to quiet down when the all-loved Archangel Michael stepped up to the balcony and waved to the crowd to silence their speech.

Kai bent over to you and whispered about how interesting things were going to get. You didn't respond, but instead gasped when a photo got projected onto the side of one of the Palace's huge spires. It was a really bloody scene: demonic-like creatures were sprawled all over the ground, torn to shreds from what you could tell. What made you feel faint, however, was the carcuses of angels. What the fuck were angels doing in Hell?

It seemed that a lot of other people were questioning the same exact thing, and Michael, once again announced order from the crowd and the only sound remaining were the hushed whispers.

"It has come to my knowledge that a secret organisation has been founded without my permission. Adam, the first man, and Sera, have been discovered sending down angels every year to kill them." He stopped mid explanation and waved his hand over to an angel that stood close to him. A scroll was placed into Michael's hands, and he unscrolled it and began to read whatever was written onto it.

"According to the words of Sera: Hell has become too overpopulated, and a risk of war could arise. Exterminations have been a necessity, and is, therefore required to keep balance between Good, and Evil." Michael immediately crumpled up the scroll, and threw it back at the poor angel that was beside him to catch.

"This is all tyranny, of course. Me and the Council did not agree to such lunacy, which is why, we are going to have a public vote as to whether or not Sera should be ex-communicated from Heaven."

A loud gasp came from the crowd.

Especially from Molly, who also seemed to begin to tear up.

"That means she'll be thrown to Hell!" she choked back a sob in surprise. Kai patted their girlfriends back to try and sooth her large and soft heart.

You, however, were enraged from the idea of angels going down and killing people. Your beloved Vincent was down there. What if he was killed?!

And like always, your spiral of thoughts was interrupted when Michael began to speak again.

"Just to be absolutely clear, this is never to be discussed with anyone ever again. After the vote is casted, anyone caught discussing this topic will immediately be casted from Paradise, and into the pits of Hell for treachery. I cannot be clear enough."

Murmurs filled the Square as everyone agreed to Michael's proposal.

"Great! Well, everyone better head off to vote now! Have a great day everyone." And like that, he vanished in a cloud of golden smoke.

You didn't realise your jaw was hanging open until Kai mentioned that you looked like a venus-fly trap waiting for a bug to land in your mouth. You clamped it shut instantly and glared at them.

"Chill! It was just supposed to be a joke!" They huffed in faux offence. Molly giggled at her partner's antics, and gently rubbed her fingers in between Kai's fins that decorated their body.

"Calm down, love. We need to head to a voting booth so we can cast votes. I know what I'm voting for."

"Yeah, I can't believe such a thing was happening behind our backs! Who knows how long it has been going on?"

Molly sighed and rubbed her fuzzy face for comfort.

"I don't know, but I hope it wasn't for too long. I believe some of my family is down there."

"Yikes, that's tough. I'm sorry for that." Kai said with sympathy laced in their voice.

You blinked back tears that were forming in your eyes. You would not cry over the possibility that your Vincent was double-dead.

You were strong.

+++

You sighed heavily when you arrived at your small apartment later that evening.

"What a rotten day," you mumbled to yourself. As if on command, your pet land-shark Vark came running into the foyer. You smiled instantly and picked up the little creature and began to pet him between his eyes.

You and Vincent loved sharks. It was a shared passion you both had that made you best friends instantly. When you first got married, you both always joked of getting a shark and naming it Vark.

Well, you had the shark, just not Vincent.

You were thinking about him again, and it was making you feel bad once more.

Why couldn't you remember some things? Who or what was making you forget?

You placed Vark back onto the ground, who of course, whined with the lack of affection from your part. You stepped over the land-shark and headed over to your balcony, that had a perfect view of the Embassy of Heaven. The place you go to whenever you have questions regarding the after-life and anything else.

Maybe there you would find answers.

With a new destination in mind, you grabbed Vark's leash and hooked him up to it. Vark began to wag his tail (well, his fin) in excitement about where you would be taking him. You smiled again at your pet's adorable-ness and began to head back outside once more.

The streets of Heaven were very peaceful. Just about no soul was out and about. It made sense since it was rather late. Around eleven o'clock actually.

Soon, the golden pillars of the Embassy came into view, and you let out a sigh when you realised it was still open. You approached the heavy double doors and swallowed back a scream when they opened up automatically. Vark found it hilarious however, when you just about died a second time from a mini heart attack.

You huffed at your shark and headed inside the golden-themed building and found that it was practically empty. I mean-duh it was empty, it was basically in the middle of the night.

A Cherub, from the looks of it, approached you and gave you a rather judgmental look over.

"Honey, I'm sorry to say this but no pets are allowed." the Cherub said with an irritating tone of voice.

You stared at the flying goat-creature and rolled your eyes.

"Vark, is a service pet. I am afraid you can't throw him out." you lied with a fake smile. One thing that Vincent taught you to do well, was fake things. You were especially good at putting on a fake show. One of the things that, once again, surprised you that Heaven looked over.

Wasn't lying a big sin?

The Cherub interrupted your thoughts when she cleared her throat rather obnoxiously.

"Alright honey. Whatever you say. To what do I owe the pleasure of assisting you with this evening?"

"Oh, well. . .I am not so sure how to explain it." you answered truthfully; slightly cringing at your lack of effort of just telling her.

The Cherub pulled out a clipboard from thin air you assumed (since she most certainly wasn't holding one earlier) and began to scribble something onto it.

"Well, Mr. Heart will be able to assist you with whatever, 'complicated' issue you have got going on." She handed you a piece of paper that had practically illegible handwriting on it, and pointed to a corridor that led to a couple of office rooms.

"Hope you find what you need, honey. Good night." and like that, she sauntered off to what you assumed to be her office. What a weird person, you thought with a click of your tongue.

You began your tread to Mr. Heart's office, and stopped when you reached the door. You lifted your hand to knock but stopped when the door was flung open and a rather energetic angel stepped out of the room.

"Hey there! You must be one of the 'poor souls' Chili sent to me! Come on in!" he moved aside and held a hand out for you to shake, to which he practically tore off yours when he shook it rather rigorously.

"The name is Heart! What's yours m'lady?"

You mumbled your name back and he let out a very loud laugh.

"Why, Mrs. Holland! Quite the pleasure to be meeting you!"

You nodded your head and held back a gasp when he pulled you by the hand into the office.

"So, tell me what has troubled you enough to venture here so late in the night?"

You opened your mouth to begin speaking, but clamped it down when you couldn't find the right words to say. Damn it, you were nervous. You couldn't, however, pinpoint if it was from the very very close proximity of the Angel, or the lack of knowledge of how to explain your memories being jumbled up.

You could begin by telling the angel to take a few hundred steps back.

"Sorry, but um, could you step back a bit?" You asked with a shaky breath. The Angel smiled with pearly white teeth, but didn't seem to move an inch.

"I can't hear you clearly if I am too far back. It is best if I stay here." He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. (or Heaven)

You nodded, even though you doubt that was the truth. You mentally noted to never come back here again once you're down getting some answers.

"So, I have a question." You began.

"Everyone that comes here has questions. But I can't exactly be sure that your question is legal to answer or not."

Your eyes widened in curiosity. Some questions could be illegal to ask? Flashbacks from today's event clouded your thoughts, but you immediately shook them away. A traitor is how you would be viewed if you discussed with anyone about today. And you would be quite foolish to bring it up with an official member of the Council.

"So, you were saying, Mrs. Holland?"

"Why am I not able to remember some things about my life on Earth?" You may as well pull off the bandage and stop dancing around the bush in fear of being judged. Your worries worsened when the Angel's eyes seemed to darken a little.

"Whatever do you mean, darling? What memories?"

"That is the whole point! I know that I can't remember some things! I just don't know what." frustration was very clear in your voice at this point.

Mr. Heart laughed wholeheartedly as if your 'situation' was the funniest thing anyone has ever told him.

"Well my dear, no need to get all fierce with me! I only want to assist you. And it seems that you are treading on very dangerous waters. I would watch out if I were you."

You swear your eyes became fire. How dare he act as if your troubles were something scandalous! Vark began to lick your leg as an attempt to calm you down, which worked for a moment until the 'ever lovable' Mr. Heart reached a hand out and began to rub your shoulders as if he had any right to touch you.

Vark, being the wonderful pet he is, noticed this and bit his leg. The angel howled in pain and kicked your beloved baby and he began to wail in pain. At this point, all you saw was red as you lunged onto the man and began to beat him up with what some people would call a 'mother's fiery.'

Some raised voices from outside of the office eventually joined the chaos of the room, and you were dragged off the very-much battered up Mr. Heart. Well, Mr. Heartless to you.

"Mrs. Holland! How dare you strike a Seraphim! That is considered treachery to the Hierarchy of the Council!" the same Cherub from earlier screeched at you in a high-pitched tone.

"Well I'll be damned! He touched me without consent and kicked my pet! I was defending myself-"

"You lie! One sin after another! How could you!?" you felt yourself being picked up from two service angels, and being dragged to another room, your shark following you right behind.

"Where are you taking me?" You shouted, attempting to pull off the two angels that were holding you roughly.

"We're not taking you anywhere. You are going to be sent somewhere." the Cherub said with a malicious tone of voice. You bit back a sob when the words processed in your head.

They were going to send you to Hell

You eventually approached a door that read 'Employees Only' and met a room that had an arch that took up the entire floor.

The portal to Hell. The place they were going to toss you into for something utterly stupid. How hypocritical of them. Heaven, the place of love and peace? My ass!

The Cherub flew over to a panel on the side of the wall, and loud sirens were heard throughout the room. Hell, you bet the entire 'cloud kingdom' could hear the loud blaring the room was making.

A red coloured portal began to appear on the ground within the structure of the arch. You gulped and felt tears begin to dwell in your eyes.

This was it.

Good-bye Heaven. Good-bye Kai and Molly.

You could hear Vark wailing from the loud noises and you attempted at twisting around to look at him. Your last attempt at begging for your shark's mercy was cut off when you were tossed into the portal.

You fell for a moment.

Then everything went dark.

+++

What awoke you from your 'dreamless sleep' was the feeling of something wet being dragged across your face. You moaned in pain when everything came crashing down on you. Literally.

Your back hurts, your head hurts, hell, even your face hurts.

You opened your eyes and noticed your beloved land-shark was on top of you, licking your face. You didn't feel anything but pure joy at that moment when you realised your shark wasn't going to be left all alone up in Heaven.

"My baby! I thought I wouldn't see you again!" you cried aloud and clutched the shark tightly against your chest. Vark seemed to love the attention and began to get all giddy from your loving embrace.

You pulled away from him after a few minutes, and began to observe the scenery around you. You appeared to be in some sort of alleyway, noting that there was garbage and other things that you didn't care to find out what it was exactly. You stood up slowly, and nearly fell back to the ground when you felt your knees shake.

Damn, you fell hard.

(Not as hard as you fell for Vincent though)

Vark noticed that you were in pain, and began to lick you again as a way of comforting you. You smiled softly and patted his smooth head in reassurance that you would be alright. Vark got the memo, and jumped from your arms. You attempted to stand again, and lent against the wall for support.

"Vark, I need you to do me a small favour." You said with a small voice. Vark wagged his fin and his tongue poked out of his mouth in anticipation for what your next words would be.

"Can you go up ahead and see if there is anyone that can help me? I don't think I'm going to be able to get around."

Vark tilted his head to the side in slight confusion to your words, to which you sighed heavily.

"I'm hurt Vark. I need help." You said a bit more simply. Vark recognised the phrase from when you trained him years ago, and immediately ran around the corner of the alleyway in search of some suitable help.

Who are you kidding? This is Hell. Why would anyone want to help? You sighed and placed your fingers on the bridge of your nose to attempt to relieve some stress that was building up.

What a rotten day.

+++

Minutes turned into hours, and you began to grow weary that something had happened to Vark. That is until you heard the familiar pat pat of Vark's fins.

You looked up from the corner you were hiding in, and noticed a very tall demoness was approaching you with Vark and-was that Molly?

"Oh my gosh! Are you alright?!" The demoness exclaimed with pure worry in her tone. You smiled weakly and shook your head.

"No, I-I'm sorry if I'm a bit of an inconvenience. You see, I was kinda kicked out of Heaven? And I'm injured from falling. . ." You babbled on. Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought.

The demoness held a sympathetic gaze in her eyes, and she looked over to her companion who was observing you as if you were an anomaly.

"Wait, you're from Heaven?"

You nodded your head, and the fellow seemed to get all smiley. Why? Who knows.

"That's crazy toots! Ya know, my sister is up there, I wonder if you eveh got to meet 'er."

You shrugged nonchalantly.

"I didn't meet much folk up there. I'm not much for socialising."

The spider-like dude nodded his head in understanding.

"'Tis fine, we are all different. Anyway, the name is Angel Dust, and this is her majesty Charlie." He pointed to himself then waved one of his other arms to the blonde demoness, who you now know as Charlie.

She was beaming with complete and utter joy. Why do they both smile so much when they are in the fiery pits of inferno?

"You need to come back with us and tell us EVERYTHING! You could be so helpful for my hotel!" Charlie began, but then immediately stopped once she noticed you were very much lost.

"I'm so sorry for being so direct with you! I'm Charlie, as Angel said. I should've asked if you wanted our help first. I mean, of course you want my help! I mean, do you?" She awkwardly trailed off when she noticed that you were staring at her as if she had grown another head.

Hotel? What does she mean by that?

"What she is trying to ask is if you needed a place to stay?" Angel asked, brushing his hands through his hair (was it hair?) and smoothing it over. His hair (it was definitely not hair but you didn't know what else to call it.) reminded you of Molly, and your heart ached at the thought of Kai and Molly going to your apartment and not finding you there.

You felt tears welled up in your eyes, but you tried hard to not look like you were about to burst into a puddle of sadness and utter hopelessness.

Charlie noticed this, however, and she crouched down to your height and engulfed you with the warmest hug you've ever received in a long time. You felt the dam break, and immediately you began to sob. At this point, you don't even know what you are crying over.

Maybe it's for everything that has happened over the past-decade?

Decades?

You were not entirely sure at this point honestly.

You both eventually entangled each other from the hug, and she offered you a hand to help you up. You took it gratefully, and stood up slowly to prevent yourself from falling back over. Charlie smiled at you softly, to which you grinned back.

"Alright now, are we headin’' back to the Hotel?" Angel asked with a hint of impatience in his voice. Charlie nodded her head, but looked back at you to make sure that is what you wanted. You properly smiled that time, and they both took the answer as 'yes'.

+++

The hotel was nothing like how you imagined. You learned on the trip there that the hotel was a place where sinners dwelled to try and redeem themselves to earn salvation.

That was the most wholesome thing you thought you would ever hear in Hell. There's hope for you yet.

You were currently in the lounge of the hotel, where a lot of 'group activities' took place on a daily basis. You and Vark were on top of a very comfortable couch that was tucked away in a corner. You were honestly so comfy, that you felt yourself dozing off. Until you heard a voice that made you want to rip your ears off.

"Why, hello! I didn't know our beloved Charlie had once again found another unfortunate soul to try out her silly project!"

The man's voice sounded muffled, almost as if he was speaking through some sort of antique microphone from ages ago. You made eye-contact with the looming figure, and noticed he reassembled a deer in a strange and unique way.

Who the Hell was this man? And why is he so-red?

As if he could read your mind, he shoved his hand in your face to shake and practically announced to the hotel who he was.

"The name is Alastor! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" You smile you returned was weak but you still shook his hand, and sighed when you realised he wasn't about to break your hand like the other guy. Mr. Heart or whatever his name was.

That stupid prick. You were mad at him again.

"No need to frown, dear! Smile some more! You're never fully dressed without one!"

This Alastor was starting to get on your nerves. And he seemed to be a staff member of the place, which only meant you would be seeing him a lot. That is if you stayed. Also, his own smile was slightly unnerving. . .not to mention kind of creepy.

"Alastor! Leave the poor girl alone." you heard Charlie call from another part of the lounge. Alastor rolled his eyes before he turned hot on his heels to argue back that he was simply 'introducing' himself.

Whatever, you didn't really care.

You stood up from the couch, Vark following closely, and began to sneak away from the chaos of the Hotel. You eventually found yourself on the sidewalks of the busy street of some part of town.

One thing you noted was how many bright neon lights decorated the sides of buildings and billboards. Vark seemed to be lost in the flashing colours and noises of the advertisements playing on TV's.

There were so many TV's. Which triggered a long lost memory that you never remembered from your time in Heaven.

It was a year or so after you and Vincent got married. He had just landed a job as a news reporter for a small company that was local to your hometown. You were aware that he loved all the new technology that was being released too quickly to follow up on. But you never expected him to one day bring back an extremely expensive TV for your living room.

"Vincent! What on Earth did you get this time?"

He rolled his eyes and rolled a portable box TV into the kitchen for you to examine.

"I got us a TV. It's especially for you so you can watch me when I'm on the afternoon news." He said with a cheeky smile. You chuckled at his antics and headed over to him to give him a hug.

"You're such an attention seeker, and you're also adorable."

He only laughed at that, and hugged you back just as tightly as you.

"Only for you doll, only for you."

The memory faded, and it left you standing idiotically in the middle of the sidewalk. That was new, and not to mention, so heartwarming.

You missed Vincent. A lot. And you were aware you kept thinking about him. Must be because your memories are no longer blocked.

Vark began to bark at an advertisement when you noticed a man with a TV for a head appeared on one of the TV's close to you. He was talking about some sort of security system, but you didn't care. What you did care about was how familiar his grin was to you.

That wasn't a coincidence, was it?

Vark distracted you from your thoughts when he began to run away when the scent of seafood wafted through the air. You out called after him and began to spring after the shark.

How does an animal run so fast with fins?

You once again got lost in your thoughts and didn't notice that you and your runaway shark were headed towards a huge crowd that was forming in front of a building nearby. Vark, being so small, ran in between the demons of all sizes and continued on his way. You were about to do the same until you ran into someone and knocked yourself and the stranger down.

"Woah! Careful where you're running off to!"

"I am so sorry!" You squealed when you realised that you had unintentionally caused a scene. You had landed completely on top of a random person; in front of a huge crowd; and it was the same man with the TV head.

Ah, what luck you had. Your thoughts were cut off when the TV headed man began to look you up and down, which made you very...uncomfortable? But his gaze felt familiar, as if instinct was telling you you knew this strange man.

"I feel like I've seen you before, do I know you?" He began, but you cut him off when you scrambled to your feet when you noticed Vark returned to you with some fish in his mouth. Or what you assumed was fish.

"Vark! You are in so much trouble!" You announced, bending over to pick up the mischievous land-shark that has caused oh-so-many problems with you today.

You heard people around you murmur, to which you raised your brow to, but decided to ignore. You turned back around to again apologise to the man you so rudely knocked over, but found him staring at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

What was his deal?

You heard him mumble your name, which definitely made you jump a bit.

"What was that?"

He rushed over to you instantly and immediately grabbed your arm and pulled you into the building the crowd was forming around, completely ignoring all the commotion that began to arise outside.

You both eventually reached a secluded corridor, and you found yourself standing in close proximity with the man.

Who even is he? And what the fuck gave him the right to drag you around like a doll?

He called your name again, and you felt his hands gently cup your cheeks. You met his artificial gaze, and you all but gasped when it all finally clicked.

Vincent Holland. Your long lost and beloved husband.

"V-Vincent?" You stammered, completely bewildered that you had somehow found him in a city with millions of people. Maybe luck was truly on your side finally.

"H-how?" You started, but got cut off when a pair of digital lips met yours in a sweet kiss. Your eyes widened in shock: you were kissing a TV. But this was also your husband. (Who had a screen for a head somehow…)

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, humming softly when he began to bite and suck at your lips. You pulled away, however, when Vark began to cry from the lack of your attention.

"Vark! Stop it!" you scolded him. Vincent chuckled at the interaction to which you raised a brow.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing. I also have a land-shark named Vark." he stated as if it were the most obvious thing. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes, doll. I got him as soon as I found out you could have one. And I named him Vark because, well, we always joked about it."

You smiled so sweetly at this. You and Vincent coincidently having a pet shark and naming them the same was just too heartwarming to you. You pulled him back into another kiss, to which Vincent welcomed whole-heartedly.

You pulled away after a minute when your lungs burned for air, and noticed Vincent was staring at you adoringly.

"What is it?" You asked.

"I thought I would never see you again. You don't know how much I've missed you. I looked for you everywhere as soon as I was able to to it safely. Even though it didn't happen as fast as I wanted, I knew I would always find you." he whispered. He kissed your head gently, which you leaned into slightly.

You felt your heart ache a little, when you realised that he probably didn't get to live in an oblivious bliss to your absence. A perk of living in Heaven, you supposed, was the lack of memory of anything that could make you wish the fiery pits of Inferno.

"Me too Vincent, me too. I'm so glad that I found you again." you placed your forehead against his (screen), and shared a loving embrace.

You and your beloved Vincent, was once again, united.

i finally looked over it, and part one of the prologue is up. if there is any mistakes i didnt catch, feel free to let me know!

also, i love vark. he carries this story ngl.

But I still will because this story felt very. . .rushed. even though it's so DAMN LONG HOLY SHIT.

-will

#x reader #x y/n #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x yn #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel x reader #IWAFY AU #IWAFY

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buzz-in-your-veins · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! Love your work! Is it okay if you could write Valentino x fem!reader? Like NSFW and SFW Headcanons? Thank you, keep up the great work!!

Hi! I’m happy you like my work!!

I will give it my best shot for ya!

My opinion of Valentino fluctuates constantly, so this may seem a bit everywhere.

Valentino

Head-cannons about the famous moth pimp of hell <3

CW: NSFW content, possessive, love bombing, stalkerish, abusive, lying, non consensual drug use, plugs, sorta noncon, toxic, overstimulation.

SFW

• He in no way trusts you to dress yourself. Genuinely believes if he let you, you’d either look awful or hurt yourself. He gets Velvette to make you custom clothes in your style.

• He’s the most famous Pimp and Adult Films Producer in hell. He has more money than he can use, why wouldn’t he use that to constantly spoil his firefly?

• Absolute cuddle whore. Can and will stop his entire day if he wants a cuddle. Oh you’re busy? Forget it. Val can pay more than that stupid job anyway, you should quit, he’ll take care of you limelight.

• He uses his wings as blankets, a consequence of the cuddles is you will fall asleep on him, and sure sometimes Valentino will wake you up, but he’s just as liable to wrap you up in his wings to keep you warm.

• If he doesn’t want to wake you up and can’t keep you with him, he’ll tuck up up nice and walk in his bed, write you a note, and leave you a snack on the table.

• Constantly checks on you. Doesn’t matter if he left you five seconds ago, if he texts or calls you, you’d better answer. Claims Hells to dangerous of a place for such a pretty Coraźon, he needs to know you’re okay.

• Always has to know where you are. Definitely made Vox bug your phone. You’re the amor of the first V. He needs you safe constantly. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you to his competition.

• Okay, Valentino knows he’s not that great, he knows you could find someone so much nicer, you’re such a darling it would be no hassle. But, Valentino needs you. So he overcompensates for everything. If he’s constantly around, always with a pretty word and a shiny gift, you’ll never think to look elsewhere.

• Barely ever calles you by your name, always calls you a pretty nickname, “Coraźo”, “Amor”, “Cariño”, “Firefly”, “Limelight”, and “Mi Vida” are just a few of those, wants you to always know how much you mean to him.

• Valentino only cares about your self confidence in the capacity that if you have a poor self confidence it will reflect badly on him, and will make you more withdrawn, Valentino already thinks your indescribably gorgeous, why does he need to remind you? But he does it anyway.

• Valentino is possesive. If someone else so much as breathes near you without Vals permission, you’ll find their bloody head outside your door in the morning. Always touching you when you go out.

• Has 100% slapped you when you’ve angered him before, “Oh you didn’t mean too? Too bad.” You tried to run away once. Valentino brought you back bloody and screaming. “I’m sorry Amor, you make me loco Mi Vida, never again.”

• He lovebombs you, after every fight, every disagreement, even when there nos arguments, always tells you your amazing, he loves you, “you’d never leave him.”, buys you everything and anything you could ever like.

• He gives you whiplash with his attitude towards you. Most of the time he treats you like his “preciosa princesa” showering you in as much love and affection as he can, but will also treat you like garbage. “Useless slut! ¡Solo quieres estatus, puta sucia! Leave!” He never means it. “It was — Amor, they were being so foolish today, never you firefly, I’m so sorry, let me make it up Vida.”

• Valentino owns your soul. You gave it to him freely when he drugged you, you still don’t know that Valentino owns your soul, and there’s no way for you to get it back. He doesn’t even want it to make you behave, it’s the power trip of knowing he owns you in every way.

NSFW

• If Valentino isn’t fucking you, he has you plugged full of his cum. And if it leaks? Even better. Doesn’t matter where you are, he’ll bend you over and start licking it up.

• Valentino is possessive of you. If he takes you to an event and notices anyone looking at you, he will definitely bend you over in the limo and fill your pussy with his cum again.

• Loves seeing you covered in his marks. Does not hold back, not even a long turtleneck can cover them. And if he sees you walking around wearing his marks proudly? Best prepare not to walk.

• Valentino can fuck you. If the two of you are really going at it, you won’t be able to walk of days. He will bend you in two and blow out your back.

• Loves giving you sexy presents, fucking you in the lingerie he bought you? Seeing you wearing his jewellery as he pounds you? Noticing you’ve got the plug he bought you in when he’s buried in your throat? “Fuck Vida, shittt.”

• The little noises Val makes? He makes them when he’s screwing you too. Little squeaks as he’s thrusting into your mouth, he’s wings vibrating when he’s really into it, just soft little noises as you draw pleasure from each other.

• Valentino’s never had to ask someone for permission before, and when he’s worked up he doesn’t ask you, just gets straight on with it. He will stop if you safe-word.

• Valentino’s not really big on consent, especially with his workers. With you though? For some reason it’s different, Valentino wants you to want him, not just open you legs because you were told.

• Valentino can be really rough with you, but he also loves taking his time with you, working you up and up and up slow and soft, watching as you reach your peak and fall apart so prettily, before starting all over again.

• Valentino is so verbal with you, constantly telling you how you feel, how much he adores what your doing to him, what he’s going to do tou, “My heart, Mi Vida, just like that, gonna fuck you long and slow.” “Firefly, gotta be quite so they don’t here, while I pump your pussy full of cum, gotta be quick.” “Cariño be as loud as you want, let them hear how you belong to me.”

• Valentino adores degrading you, telling you how much of a puta sucia you are, how your such a filthy slut, “you’d let anyone screw you too get off dirty slut” but he also loves praising you. Telling you your his Corazón bonito, his darling firefly, how youre “such a good girl for me, only mine, so pretty Mi Vida”, seeing your eyes glaze as you drink it all in, Val can’t get enough.

• Valentino love’s overstimulating you, fucking you until your legs are shaking, you can’t speak anymore, your moans are cut with whimpers, and you’re cumming dry? Please, he’d do it every day if you’d allow it, it only shows how well he’s doing.

• Valentino definitely has a playlist he likes to put on when he’s fucking you, setting the mood, letting you pick the song you’re going to be railed too.

• Valentino doesn’t believe in safe word really. But you were adamant you had one, otherwise you would never move past heavy petting. So Valentino agreed, he uses Charlie, you use Red. Valentino has always respected that.

• Valentino has videos of the two of you together, and some of just you, there his personal videos, no one else is allowed to ever see them. He had Vox make a secure private server even he couldn’t access for them.

Feedback is always appreciated <3

Comments are my high.

They make me write faster.

I hope it meets your expectations Anon<33

~Vyrus

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #vyrus.is.a.virus.#hazbin hotel valentino #valentino #valentino smut #valentino headcanons #Valentino Hazbin hotel smut

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da-rulah · 1 year ago

Text

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 1]

Summary: Mary knew the entire town hated him; the metalhead with the freaky make up and fake blood dripping down his face. He was the local menace, the town vandal, the cliché trouble maker. He played up to that image, enjoyed the havoc and the chaos, revelled in it. He loved pissing people off.

And so, what better revenge to get on his beloved town, than to fuck around with the Mayor's daughter…

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Porn with very little plot, filthy sex, public sex, quickie, dirty talk, teasing, very little foreplay, praise kink, pet names, degradation, hints at exhibitionism, fingering, p in v sex, squirting, oral sex (m receiving), cum play, cum swallowing

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: Huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles & @angellayercake for beta reading this one! This, again, began as a silly little drabble idea from a request in my asks, and became a bloody one shot (with a second part planned out already because I. DON'T. KNOW. WHEN. TO. STOP. Enjoy.

Mary knew the entire town hated him; the metalhead with the freaky make up and fake blood dripping down his face. He was the local menace, the town vandal, the cliché trouble maker. They treated him like garbage from day one anyway, coming from a less than favourable background of struggles as he grew up. He played up to that image, enjoyed the havoc and the chaos, revelled in it. He loved pissing people off.

The Mayor hated him the most, ruining his precious little suburban town’s image. Mary was public enemy number one; mostly because this quaint little place had absolutely nothing better to do than to impose this chaotic stereotype on him since he was 13 years old – he was just applying himself to the role... method acting, if you will.

And so, what better revenge to get on his beloved town, than to fuck around with the Mayor's daughter...

It started as a dare. His bandmates had seen you out with your girlfriends at the local biker bar he frequented. You stuck out like a sore thumb, in a cute little white sundress with daises printed all over. ‘What were you thinking?’ he'd wondered when he saw you. You were like a deer strolling willingly into the lion's den.

"Go on, Mare. She's his daughter, y'know? Dare ya to get in her panties..." His mates had shoved him forward by his shoulder, his beer in hand sloshing as he rolled his eyes and laughed, shrugging his signature leather jacket back on straight as he skulked over to your table, coughing to interrupt your conversation. Your friends had looked up at him in disgust and annoyance but you... pretty little thing... had smiled sweetly with a sparkle in your eye.

"'Scuse me, doll, but I can't help but wonder... what's a pretty thing like you doin' in a dive like this?" he'd asked you. Your friends rolled their eyes and turned their backs, but you? You fucking giggled.

"Just getting to know my father's patch, wanna be a people person, y'know? Helps his campaigns," you'd winked. Mary smirked at that, hearing the hidden meaning laced in your response.

"Political power play; smart. Best keep away from me then, doll," he'd leaned in then, his arm resting on the back of your chair as he whispered in your ear, "I'm the town delinquent, after all..."

"Oh, I know all about you, Mary." The way you'd said his name... the playful glint in your eye, the not-so-innocent smirk, the tease... Mary sucked in a deep breath through grit teeth and pulled up a spare chair next to yours, sitting astride it with his arms folded over the back of it that faced you. Your friends had started their conversation back up, ignoring you completely. They were fickle friends anyway, nowhere near the amount of fun you were looking for in your drab and over-controlled life.

"They dared me, y'know. My friends, I mean. To get into your panties..." Honest and upfront, but he seemed confident enough in your playful little demeanour that perhaps that's exactly what you had wanted to hear from someone tonight.

"What, these panties?" you had asked, tracing your fingertips up your bare thigh and lifting your skirt just enough to show off the waistband of white lace against your hip. Mary's eyes followed your fingertips intently, his jaw dropping open. He took a swig of his beer, hoping it would chill the rising heat in his face while images of you splayed out with your skirt bunched up around your hips for him flashed in his mind.

"Yep. Them's the ones."

"Well, play your cards right and maybe I'll let you," you smirked, snatching his beer from his hand and taking a gulp, holding his eye contact while you wrapped your lips around the bottle neck. You didn't miss the way his eyes bulged from his head at your gesture. This was going to be fun. Mary could be just the kind of excitement you were looking for...

You ditched your friends pretty quickly that night; they barely bat a false lash in your direction anyway as you sauntered back to Mary's friends on his arm, happy to play up the 'prize' role as he showed you off to them with a twirl. You shared some beers, laughed at Mary's filthy and dark jokes, flirted and teased your way into his arms and within a couple of hours, you decided he'd done enough to charm his way into your lace panties after all.

"Hey," you poked his ribs, leaning into his side as he looked down at you with a smug smile and took another swig of beer.

"What is it, doll?" he asked, the nickname working wonders for you.

"You've been dealt a decent hand of those cards, Goore. With me. Now." You snatched the beer from his hand and slammed it on the bar beside you, sauntering off through the bodies of bikers and cloud of cigarette smoke. Mary watched the way you bounced away from him, your ass so perfectly rounded and covered just barely by the flouncy little skirt of your sundress.

You stopped by the bathroom door, turning back to him and beckoning towards him to follow you. His eyes trailed up your bare legs, across the curves of your body and the cleavage on display, and settled on the mischievous little smirk you wore. That's when he noticed, the door behind you read "mens" - oh, you filthy little thing...

He pushed himself up from the stool he sat at, his leather jacket draped over the back of it. He found himself herding you into the bathroom quickly, paying no mind to the only other person in the bathroom stood at the urinals.

"Hey, what the fuck man," the guy half-yelled, but Mary just shrugged in his direction with you hiding and giggling behind his chest as he pushed you further into a stall, slamming the door behind you and flicking the lock shut. "Animals, man..." the guy scoffed, finishing up and heading out the door.

But as soon as he'd pushed you into that stall - remarkably cleaner than you'd anticipated - his lips were on your neck behind you, his hands running over your thighs and tickling the soft flesh there.

"Wanted you all fuckin' night, doll," he growled against your neck, "And you bring me here, eh? Romantic..."

"Just fuck me, Goore... Please..." you begged, reaching behind you to hold his head against you, pushing your ass back into the groin of his tattered jeans. The hands splayed across your thighs shifted, one snaking inwards, the other gripping your hip to steady you, keeping your ass pressed against his hardening dick.

"You ask so politely, doll. Your daddy teach you those manners?" he teased, biting at the flesh of your neck.

"Mhm," you hummed, cut off by his lips colliding with yours in a desperate kiss. No time to waste, his tongue dove against yours, savouring the taste of the beer you'd shared all night.

His hand pressed itself between your thighs, cupping your mound over the pretty white lace you'd briefly flashed him earlier. You whined against his lips, fingers weaving into his spiked hair and pulling him harshly against you. Mary could feel how wet you already were, the fabric warm and damp against his palm.

"I thought we agreed you could get inside my panties, Goore?" you taunted, reaching down to where his hand was pressed against you and pulling the lace to one side in one quick motion. His fingers immediately slid between your folds, coated in your arousal with a single swipe.

"Fucking hell..." he huffed in a mix of pleasure and disbelief; how could you, the pretty little daughter of the damn Mayor be so utterly filthy as to fuck a guy like him in the men's bathroom of a fucking dive bar? It screamed 'daddy issues'. It screamed 'rebelling against your proper little life'. It screamed 'cliché' and yet... All he cared about was making you scream.

“This needy for me already, doll? Bet I could slip right in, hm?” he teased, nipping at your earlobe and pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His fingers worked your clit expertly, forcing your eyes to shut and head to lull back against his shoulder. Your grip on his hair tightened, and a gasp of a moan slipped from your lips.

Mary ground his hips into your ass as he dove his fingers into you, two able to slip through your folds and deep inside you without meeting any resistance. Mary growled, curling his fingers inside you in search of the spot to make your legs buckle. Had he not been ready, holding you up with his hand buried inside you, the other bracing your hip, you might have fallen to your knees there and then.

“Sh-shit, Mary...” you gasped, your hands flying out to steady yourself one the walls of the cubicle.

“I got you, baby,” he affirmed, wrapping the hand from your hip around your stomach and pulling you back against him again. His fingers worked you open so easily, spreading your arousal and readying you for him. But he was going to make you beg for it, first...

He withdrew his fingers from inside you, now focused solely on your throbbing clit. He circled it over and over, earning whines and whimpers from you as jolts of pleasure soared through your body. You leaned back against him again, this time angling your head to be able to look at him, to see the absolutely feral look on his face as he drank you in with his eyes.

His face paint had faded considerably, the fake blood starting to glisten again now that a sheen of sweat was forming on his skin in the cramped space. You couldn’t help yourself, deciding to smash your lips to his in a clash of teeth and lips; messy, uncoordinated but invigorating.

“Fuck, who knew you were so filthy, hm?” His words were muffled by your desperate kisses, but you couldn’t help the whimper that surfaced. “How my fingers workin’ for ya, doll?” he chuckled, and as if to illustrate his point he dipped them back inside you, curled them up once to force out a cry of pleasure and retreated again, attention back to your clit.

“A-ah! Need more, Mare... Please,” you begged, but he just laughed, biting down on your bottom lip and watching as your glazed eyes tried to focus on his.

“Almost, babygirl. Not quite what I wanna hear though... Tell me what you want. Tell me you fucking need it,” he growled, pressing harder to your clit with each rotation of his fingertips. You knew exactly what he wanted to hear, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“Need... need you... need your cock, Mary...” you cried, clawing at his arms so hard you almost drew blood. He hissed at the pain, enjoying every ounce of it.

“Good girl...” he told you, removing his fingers from your cunt completely and manhandling you until you were bent at the waist, palms flat on the toilet tank in front of you to hold you up. He lifted your knee to prop your foot on the edge of the toilet, opening you up and giving him the best angle to grind his clothed cock against your burning hot centre. “Stay right there, doll.”

He backed up half a step, and you heard the telltale sound of his belt buckle jingling, a button popping open, a zipper, some rustling of denim...

Mary fisted his cock a few times, allowing himself a moment to take the edge off – had he dove straight in, he’d have finished embarrassingly quickly, too fucking turned on but your good-girl-turned-total-freak act. He bunched your dress up around your hips, pushing the white lace past your hips and letting them fall to the floor before he gathered them, stuffing them inside the back pocket of his jeans that were now around his knees. You could feel as he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance, toying with you and pushing barely the tip inside.

Just as he did, the door to the bathroom creaked in protest, the background noise of the bar behind it growing louder and several pairs of heavy boots clunking across the linoleum of the floor. Voices that you recognised as Mary’s friends and bandmates laughed and chatted, filtering in one behind the other.

Mary ran his hand up your back between your shoulder blades, his fingers threading with your hair to pull your head up towards him so he could speak directly into your ear.

“Better be quiet, doll...” he whispered, “unless you want them to know...”

Fuck... at that point you didn’t care. They could know if they wanted, hell they could stand on the toilet in the cubicle next to you and fucking watch if they wanted – you were too drunk on the feeling of Mary’s cock barely breaching your pussy to give a shit anymore. You just needed him.

But Mary’s hand snaked around your jaw, shoving the two fingers that had been inside you past your lips and gagging you with them. Then, and only then, did he begin to push himself deeper inside you.

You whimpered around his knuckles, gripping the porcelain beneath you tightly as the feeling of being stretched engulfed you.

“Where’d Mary disappear to?” you heard one of his friends ask on the other side of the door.

“Do you reckon he’s actually fucking that chick?” another laughed. Mary smirked at the interaction, bottoming out inside you with his pelvis flush to your ass. He rolled his hips up, relishing in the way you bit down on his fingers when he hit your g-spot again.

“The Mayor’s daughter? Nah, no fuckin’ way. She’s just a tease... too prissy,” a third friend chimed in. “You know the type; get you hooked then leave you hangin’ with blue balls.”

The guys laughed together, and you couldn’t help but clench around Mary’s length when his fingertips tightened on your hip, his nails digging into the skin as he listened to his shithead friends degrading you on the other side of the stall. No fuckin’ way... that was his job.

“If only they knew the real you, eh, doll? The one who’s already squeezing my dick so tight she’s creaming all over me...” he whisper-growled, dragging his length out of you painfully slowly. Holding his fingers in place in your mouth to keep you quiet, he slammed back into you, a loud clap ricocheting off the stall walls where his skin met yours. Your cry of pleasure and shock muffled around his fingers but was still very much audible.

His friends’ heads whipped around to the door of the cubicle where they stood at the urinals, a look of confusion on their faces.

“Goore?” one of them called out. Silence – Mary stilled inside you again, shushing you quietly in your ear.

“No fuckin’ way, man...” one of them said. With lingering silence, his friends shrugged and turned their attention back to the urinals, finishing up. It wasn’t until you heard their footsteps starting to retreat that Mary, in one quick motion, thrust his hips back and forth once more, another slap ringing out with another muffled whimper as you drooled on his digits.

“Nah, that’s gotta be him... Mare, you in here?” one of the guys called out.

“Shall I answer them, doll? Want them to know?” he whispered in your ear. When your eyes met his over your shoulder, he saw them glinting with mischief as you nodded at him.

You would be the fucking death of him.

“I’m here, man,” he called back, a smug smirk on his face.

A chorus of “ohhh shiiiiit” and “daaaaamn” rang through the bathroom when they realised their ringleader, the famous Mary Goore, was indeed fucking the Mayor’s daughter in the men’s bathroom.

“Nice,” one of them remarked, the slap of a high five ringing out. Mary rolled his eyes, again gripping onto your hip as if overprotective of you in some way. You stayed still though, waiting, listening... with Mary’s fingers still holding back your tongue.

“You wanna get the fuck out now so I can make my girl cum in peace?” he yelled back, smirking when he felt your cunt squeeze him. ‘My girl’ - that’s what did it. That possessiveness when he’d known you merely hours, like primal instinct...

“Jeez, we’re gone...” one of them complained, the door swinging open, that same background noise from the bar filtering in as it swung shut behind his friends.

“Where were we, doll?” he purred, stroking the hair from your face before gripping your hip once again and pressing his fingers down onto your tongue harder, punctuated with an upwards thrust directly into your cervix. You cried out again, eyes rolling back into your head in bliss.

He didn’t stop this time, his hips continuously thrusting up into you with vigour, pelvis slapping against your ass over and over. His eyes were trained on his bare cock disappearing into you repeatedly, your ass rippling with the impact.

“Fuckin’ fill you so good, hm? Like you were made for me, doll...” he growled into your ear. All you could do was whimper on his fingers, closing your mouth around them to suck on them, driving him wild.

“Ohh, shit... good girl,” he praised, earning a tight clench from you around his length, “make ‘em nice and wet for me, darlin’.” You did as you were told, coating his fingers in your spit whilst he continued to fuck you from behind. When he was satisfied with your work, he removed his fingers from your mouth altogether, and dipped them between your thighs to circle your clit.

You gasped at the new sensation, coupling with the assault on your cervix you were barrelling towards an orgasm embarrassingly fast, so immensely turned on by everything up to this point that coaxing it from you was an easy goal for Mary.

“This town thinks you’re such a good little girl, huh? What if they saw you now?” he teased, his grip on your hip tightening whilst his fingers began to swipe back and forth faster and faster over your clit, “What if daddy saw you now?”

“Fucking hell, Mary...” you cried, hands bracing on the tank of the toilet to steady yourself while your legs shook. “Don’t stop, please...”

“Wouldn’t fuckin’ dream of it, doll...” he smirked, his hips smacking over and over against your ass. True to his word, he didn’t stop, and he pushed your closer, and closer until he felt the trembling onslaught of your orgasm.

As if on instinct, hand on your hip wrapped around your abdomen, holding you upright as your legs shook and gave out, the other keep a steady pace swiping back and forth over your clit. Mary held you up, yes, but continued to fuck into you, revelling in the way you managed to cum so violently that you squirted around his length and onto the floor of the bathroom stall. He kept you going, emptying you of all of it as you cried out, gripping the porcelain tightly.

“Oh, doll, look at you, hm? You made a mess...” he snickered behind you, stilling his hips and removing his hand from between your legs. Instead, he helped you to stand upright, pulling himself from where he’d been sheathed inside you and turning your chin up to him so he could press a bruising and sloppy kiss to your lips.

You turned in his arms, pushing him back against the door of the stall with the little energy you had left as you came down from your high, legs still unsteady. Mary groped at your ass, enjoying the feeling of supple flesh in his palms as he ground his still bare cock against your stomach. And then it dawned on you.

Mary hadn’t cum yet.

You refused to make him wait a moment longer, as much as you wanted to stay attached to his lips to taste his very distinctive flavour on your tongue – beer and cigarettes had never tasted so enticing.

Without a word – mostly because the both of you were so out of breath already – you sank to your knees. Quickly, you noted the wet feeling against the bare skin – your wetness. Mary seemed to notice too, biting his lip when he saw you acknowledge your little puddle of cum and smirk back up at him. He knew what you were about to do, and his cock jumped above you at the thought.

You wrapped a hand around him, feeling the remnants of your arousal at the base of his cock. Leaning forward, you took the head of his length past your lips, swiping your tongue over his slit that had beaded with precum. Between his salty taste and your own sweetness, you hummed in satisfaction and sent vibrations through his whole body. Mary hissed above you, pushing the hair back from your face so he could get a better look.

“You’re fucking filthy, doll,” he praised, leaning his head back against the door and watching you through his eyelashes.

“Mhmm,” you hummed around him, managing a subtle smirk before diving your head down to swallow him whole. Mary grunted above you, his hands slapping to the walls either side of him like you had done earlier; the only thing keeping him composed.

You bobbed your head on his length, using your tongue to cradle the underside of his cock as you hollowed your cheeks. Your hands gripped his belt where it hung loosely around his thighs, pulling him towards you as if it would help you take him any deeper – but you were already nuzzling the soft hair at the base of his dick each time you took him down your throat.

But feeling like he was being desperately pulled and tugged and sucked within an inch of his damn life was turning Mary on more and more, having the exact effect you had hoped. How needy you looked for him, on your knees in a puddle of your own orgasm, tasting yourself on his cock as you made sure you sucked everything your mouth could take of him, as if you needed it as much as he did.

“Shit, you tryna make me cum, doll?” he panted, “You that desperate to taste me?” Mary stroked your hair, watching intently as you fluttered your eyelashes at him and fucking giggled on his cock. You were driving him wild, a familiar tightness coming to a head in his abdomen.

“C-can I cum in your mouth, doll?” he asked, breathless and using every ounce of restraint he had to stave off his orgasm until had your consent to blow his load down your throat. You didn’t answer him immediately, revelling in the torture just for another few moments while you slide your hands from his belt to the tops of his thighs where his jeans were pushed down, then further up to his hips. You stopped there, digging your nails in and humming as you took his length as deep as possible one last time.

The sting of your nails on his skin triggered the beginning of his end, and you retracted your head to balance the tip of his cock on your tongue, allowing him to watch as his seed spilled and spurted onto your tongue beneath him, your fist now generously pumping his length to milk him of every drop you could.

“Dirty little bitch,” he grunted, losing himself to his orgasm and smirking down at you when you winked at him, unable to talk with a mouthful of his spend.

As he finished, he took a deep breath, dragging the palms of his hands down his face and smearing the make-up and fake blood in the sheen of sweat that glistened on his skin. Not that he cared – he wasn’t precious about his appearance now his night was coming to an end anyway. He stood upright, tucking himself back into his underwear and doing his pants up.

Redressed, he looked down at you, sat so prettily on your knees with your mouth still hanging open, the pool of his cum still sitting on your tongue. Mary smirked and dipped a finger into it, swirling it around before bending down and sucking his own release from his fingertip. You giggled again, satisfied with his reaction and swallowing what was left for you.

“You surprised me, doll...” Mary said with a quirk of his head. “You don’t seem the type, y’know?” He helped you up from the floor, your knees protesting a little from being pressed to the linoleum for so long.

“’Just a tease’, right?” you quoted his friends, an eyebrow raised, “’too prissy’? The type to ‘get you hooked then leave you hangin’ with blue balls’?”

Mary scratched the back of his neck, feeling a sliver of guilt for the way his ‘friends’ had described you – but more so at the knowledge that’s exactly what he’d thought of you until tonight. “Ignore ‘em, doll. They wouldn’t know how to treat ya if they had ya,” he smiled goofily.

“What, and you do?” you taunted. Mary chuckled, tapping his foot against the floor and drawing your attention to the little puddle at your feet.

“I think this proves I do, huh?” He pushed his tongue into his cheek smugly, and you lightly punched his chest playfully.

“You’re disgusting, Goore...” you laughed. “Now gimme my panties back.” You held your palm flat for him to hand them over, but he just stared at it incredulously. Even when you curled your fingers back in a ‘gimme’ motion, he didn’t budge to hand them over, still tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Don’t think I will, nah. Gonna hold ‘em ransom,” he said, leaning against the stall wall and folding his arms over his chest.

“You’re kidnapping my panties?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “But it’s cold without them...” Mary laughed, not moving at all. He was keeping those panties of yours, and you weren’t talking him around. “Fine. Keep ‘em. Plenty more at home...”

“In every colour, I bet...” Mary smirked, reaching behind him to unlock the door to the stall. “Shall we?”

You pushed past him, giving twirling on your heels to exit the bathroom with just enough force that you briefly flashed your bare ass to him beneath your skirt one last time. Mary groaned in appreciation and followed you back out into the bar, jogging to catch up and slinging an arm around your shoulders.

The bar had emptied a little, both his and your friends nowhere in sight. Mary’s jacket still sat on the stool he’d left it on, his cell phone in the pocket.

“So, doll... reckon I could get your number?” he asked, leaning against the bar. You stared at him for a moment, as if contemplating your answer but you already knew you wanted more of Mary Goore.

Without a word, you snatched his cell phone from his hand and typed in your number – your real number, not the fake one you gave to most guys who asked. “I’ll see you around, Goore,” you told him, pushing the phone against his chest once more.

“Can I get you a cab? Walk ya home?” he asked, feeling uneasy about letting a vulnerable girl – with no panties on... - get home alone.

“No need, have another beer. I got a car waiting outside – perks of daddy’s status, I guess,” you shrugged as you picked up the tiny little bag you’d brought with you from the bar where you’d stupidly left it, a tinge of sadness to your voice that Mary didn’t miss, but didn’t push you on.

“And you don’t wanna be seen out there by your dad’s staff with... me?” he asked, already knowing why you wanted him to stay put. You gave him a look of apology, chewing on your bottom lip out of guilt. “Nah, I get it doll. Keep him sweet as long as possible. One more beer won’t hurt me, anyway,” he winked, pinching your cheek to ease some of your guilt.

“Thanks for... tonight,” you told him, a blush creeping onto your cheeks now that reality was setting in a little. Mary chuckled, looking down at his feet. He turned to lean over the bar, calling over the bartender before he looked back at you.

“Any time, doll,” he winked, turning his attention back to the bartender who was finishing up with another patron. By the time he turned back to look at you, maybe even give you a parting kiss to the cheek, you were gone.

And so was the leather jacket from the back of his stool.

You got back home just in time for your curfew that night, careful not to give your father’s security an eyeful as you got out of the car. Just as you’d got back into your bedroom after saying a quick goodnight to your father in his study, you heard the buzz of your phone in your little bag. When you looked, you had a text from an unknown number, the sender only possibly one person...

U thief... guna want my jacket bck doll... nd if u eva want 2 c ur panties alive again, u bettr follow my instructions v carefully... 😉

You smiled at your phone, biting your bottom lip as you text back a reply.

Willing to negotiate a drop off time and location. You can have whatever you want, just don’t hurt my poor panties...

You threw your phone onto your bed, heading into your en suite to turn the shower on – a much needed luxury after the filthy sex you’d had that night. As you stripped yourself from your dress, you heard your phone buzzing again with another text.

Gd girl. Will be in touch xo

You hoped he would. Mary may just have been the excitement you were looking for in your drab little life as the daughter to the Mayor of this suffocating little town.

Tagging those who asked, interacted with my post about writing Mary and some of my mutuals who may or may not enjoy this!

If you want to be added/removed from my tag list, please let me know!

@anamelessfool @thew0man @portaltothevoid @copias-sewer-rat @fishwithtitz @mustluvecho @foxybouquet

#mary goore x reader smut #mary goore fanfiction #mary goore fanfic #mary goore x reader #mary goore #repugnant fan fiction #repugnant fanfiction #repugnant #repugnant band #ghost bc #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #ghost the band #mary goore smut

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genderqueerdykes · 3 months ago

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I'm so glad to hear your surgery went well, lots of good luck for your recovery <333 i'm chronically ill myself and went through the whole being treated like trash by the ER staff song-and-dance too while looking for a diagnosis (i was also on the verge of death), so i was really scared for you when i saw you liveblogging your experience. But again, really happy that everything went well for you in the end ! :)

hello there! thanks for sending such a kind message!

i'm sorry you've been through it too. i totally understand that working in an ER is a horrific job. i know that the nurses and staff have to put up with an insane amount of stress, even from patients who are "well behaved". i understand that there are many people who come into the ER who expect to be treated right away, treated like they're special, or handed all the best medications right away

i saw many people in there who would literally get pissed off when the nurses would bring them tylenol, aspirin or ibuprofen instead of opioids. i watched an older woman literally start SCOWLING and her tone turned completely bitter and hateful once the nurse brought her some aspirin for her pain. a man sitting next to me started grumbling angrily because he overheard the nurse bringing me oxycodone and got pissed off that he wasn't getting any. it bothered me that so many people in there were clearly just trying to get handed opioids despite not being in a lot of pain. i get that there were a lot of people in here who were upset because they weren't getting high and i get how that could be upsetting to the nurses.

i wasn't getting high- i was in way too much pain and in hysterics. i wasn't having fun. it really upset me to overhear that people near me thought i was having a "good time" or having fun or just there to get high off of pills. like it made me really uncomfortable to hear that people around me were literally getting jealous over me being given oxy for an ungodly amount of pain. i get that many people can be rude and expect special treatment, i'm never going to sit here and say that being an ER staff member is easy by any stretch of the imagination. i DO understand that drug seeking people do exist, and i witnessed a lot of them in that ER, but it doesn't mean that you should treat the drug seeker, or anyone else like shit. drug seeking can still be a sign of a greater problem and people who engage in this type of behavior deserve to be talked to like people instead of treated like absolute shit. even if the behavior was affecting me, personally, i still don't think someone who goes to the ER specifically to seek drugs should be treated in a subhuman manner

but when i told the surgical staff about how i was being treated, they were utterly appalled. one of the nurses told me that she understands that compassion fatigue is a thing, and that burnout happens, but too many ER nurses resort to become so cold and bitter than they're just mean to their patients because they view them as a nuisance, and start viewing everyone as whiny drug seekers or people who are faking for attention. it's not good, i feel like when one gets to that point it's a good idea to switch jobs. being burnt out isn't a sign that you're weak or have bad character, it just means that you're overwhelmed

it really bothers me that ER staff tend to want to look down on patients who are there and assume that they're seeking attention. my best friend told me one of her friends got told it was "faking a stroke" because borderline personality disorders "make us do funny little things for attention." how the hell do you even fake a stroke? you can't fake the entire left side of your body drooping and failing to function

overall i'm sorry that you have received that treatment as well, there's no reason for you to get ignored or treated like garbage for being sick. i didn't want to worry anyone but i wanted to liveblog my experience to show how difficult it can be to be chronically ill, especially in America, and how people do not take health problems seriously-- even certain medical professionals

the fact that a nurse decided to get pissed off at me and berate me for becoming hysterical from pain was just out of this world. i told her that i wasn't sure how much longer i could wait because the ER waiting room was freezing cold and loud as hell (eveveryone either had several people there with them to talk to, were on the phone/facetime or were blasting music or videos from their phones), and that sitting upright in the chairs was making the pressure and pain in my abdomen worse... she decided to snap at me instead of offering even a modicum of comfort

she scoffed and went "well if you leave, and your symptoms come back, WHICH THEY WILL, you're going to have to come right back here and start all over again. we can't make special exceptions just for you, you wouldn't keep your place in line, you'd have to start all over again and wait all over again. you're an adult, you can make your own decisions, but it's just going to be the same thing all over again if you leave."

she could've went "hey, i get it, it's really stressful in here. surgery is busy and we're going to get you in there as soon as we can, it's just very busy right now." or something like that or at least checked to see if i was due for pain medication, but instead she just got mad at me for "whining". i told a member of the surgical staff team about this and her response was "they're completely discompassionate down there- there's no compassion whatsoever, they just don't... care." as much as it was shocking to hear her say that, it was validating, because it was true

i hope you don't have to deal with that again the next time you need help, i hate it when chronically ill people get branded as annoying, drug seekers, fakers, etc. because that's literally what chronic illness is. just because our situations are complicated doesn't mean people should throw their hands up in the air and give up and consider you a burden. you shouldn't have to go through that in the first place

thanks for your kind message i appreciate it! best of luck in your future care as well, it's not right for anyone who's sick to be turned away or treated like garbage. the focus should be on the patient's care, not the ER nurse's feelings or assumptions about that person. yes medical professionals are human and deserve to have their emotions respected, but they should never supersede the safety and well being of someone who is sick, whether or not they're on death's doorstep or not. take care of yourself, thanks for stopping by!

#asks #feedback #chronic illness #health #about us #updates

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immeasurablesaladagere · 4 months ago

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drabble of regressor jason and cg alfred

"Master Jason, you don't have to help me clean up. If you would like, I can put on a movie instead." Alfred offered. A regressed Jason was fiddling with the loops on a garbage bag, trying his absolute hardest to make the bunny ears and tie it off with a focused pout on his face.

Alfred was truly flattered that Jason wanted to help, but he would much rather he spend his limited and precious time regressed enjoying himself than cleaning.

"Nope! I got it!"

Then again, Jason always had been the little helper as a child, washing dishes with him after dinner or helping him 'dust the high places', though he always suspected that was just an excuse to climb on the furniture.

"Aha!" Jason successfully tied the knot on the bag, and Alfred stepped in to take it from him and walked to the garage to throw it away in the bins.

When he returned, Jason was knelt precariously on top of the counters, putting glasses from the dishwasher into the cupboards he could have easily just stood to reach. Alfred shook his head fondly.

"Please come down, Master Jason. Let me get the cups. Why don't you put away the baking dish? That goes on a low shelf."

Jason huffed, but hopped off the counter anyway. "Fine, but the low shelfs are boring."

"I'm sure they are. But they're safer for children, aren't they?"

"I guess."

With Jason as a helper, they managed to get the kitchen neat and tidy in record time, racing to see who could wipe the counters down the best and the fastest. Jason won the title of fastest washer, but Alfred was most thorough. According to Jason that meant they both won and deserved a treat, so Alfred got them each two Oreos. Jason shoved both into his mouth in one bite.

"There. The kitchen is all clean, so now will you allow me to put on a movie?" Alfred asked.

"Mhm!" Jason nodded, cheeks stuffed with cookie, "Bigh Hero Sixth!"

He chuckled. "Excellent choice. And we don't talk with our mouths full. It's not polite."

"Mm! Sorry Athred!"

#sfw age regression #sfw agere #agere blog #age regression #fandom agere #drabble #dc agere #dcu #dc #batfamily #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #batfamily agere

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jweekgoji · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Fern/Reader.

I'm not dead! Just busy with drawing and obsessing over AT this time. Hope you will forgive me for disappearing and appearing with new stuff after a few months. 😔 Warming up, so just small headcannons this time.

work includes: basically yandere themes, small mentions of kidnapping, manipulative behavior, Fern affected by grass demon.

Fern is literally the best yandere in Adventure Time, prove me wrong! His whole “You're going to live here. You're going to be fine” while trapping Finn in this dungeon, having only dirt and garbage as some sort of food... that's cute. He tried, at least. Babies' first kidnapper steps!

Fern is a complex person, he tries to act like Finn, being the hero everyone needs and loves, the grass boy probably would expect from you a lot of reassurance that he is doing the RIGHT thing, that he is doing ,, hero stuff,, better than Finn.

At some point, the more you assure him of his delusional thoughts, the more delusional he gets. He loves how you spoon-feed him with the idea, that you really prefer him to Finn. I think that that would lead him to be even more cruel towards Finn, constantly showing off in front of the other boy like, “Ha! Saw that?! They love ME more than YOU!”

If you show some sort of interest in Finn, whether it's just helping out each other, talking or... just Finn looking in your way, Fern would feel absolutely jealous. He probably has thoughts that «He is trying to steal them away from me" that are in his mind 24/7, Finn might state from time to time that he is not interested in you at all and probably won't 'steal ' you away from him.

Would he believe in it? No.

I believe that Fern is the type of yandere who would treat the person he adores with extra care, even admitting that you are his favorite among all the people he knows. He's actually pretty needy and clingy, as long as you give him the love and attention he needs, but If only you stopped giving it to him, be ready that he would not let it go easily.

His first reaction would be “Wait, what? I thought we were having a good time together” , holding your hand just to stop you from pulling away. The slight fear and sadness in his eyes are visible, what did he do wrong? He's the problem, right? How could he fix it?

Reassure him all you want; give him different versions of why you need to leave him for 2 minutes so badly; that won't work. In such a state, deep in his mind, he doesn't listen to your words. He groans in frustration, ripping grass from his own head, only for it to regenerate in seconds.

Fern fumes in anger, just yelling out everything that appears in his mind. Just angry thoughts about how unfair it is that he can't be enough for you to just leave everything and spend all your time with him. Of course, he is not enough, he is just a shadow of someone so popular and loved that he doesn't stand a chance to even try and win you over.

The only way to deal with his tantrums is just to wrap your arms around him tightly, give him a good squeeze, and lead him outside to enjoy a warm, sunny day. He would make a fuss and hiss like a stray cat, only to relax and lean against you. Maybe he does manipulate you this way, but it's hard to understand whether he actually knows what he is doing or just acts on his impulses. I think, at first, he really just expressed his frustration like that and stuff, but when he noticed the way it works against you, he would do it again and again.

This grass demon thing is really fucking up his mind badly. He would be the type of yandere that grows from someone really sweet and innocent, he still needs a lot of time to understand who he really is. Fern has the same memories as Finn, but still acts shy and nervous about the idea of dating or just being close with someone. But sadly, no matter how much Finn would try to teach him how to be a good hero and be his own person, Fern would not be afraid to use violence when it was needed.

#yandere x reader #yandere adventure time #fern the human x reader #fern x reader #yandere imagines #yandere fern #adventure time x reader #adventure time #fern the human

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m3nt4llyr4v3d · 10 months ago

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Felix v Chloe

Lemme just say, I hate the way Felix is treated in the show and the fandom compared to Chloe

Somehow, someway, the characters can forgive Felix and even have him on the team at the end (?????), and all of his actions are completely absolved due to his backstory: “Oh he was just doing all that for his survival! He was just an awkward quirky guy with no social cues all along!”

But Chloe’s backstory even being brought up for an explanation is immediately shut down, it doesn’t excuse a single thing she’s done! Hell, it doesn’t even explain why she’s the way she is because Mylene has an absent mother and she turned out fine! Doesn’t matter that Mylene had a father that actually taught her how to act and didn’t just buy her love with constant gifts and abuses of power, there’s just no excuse!

Both act in their own self interest, turning to the villain to get something they want, but nonono, Felix, without apologizing once mind you, is redeemed and forgiven while Chloe gets sent off to NY with her mother! Everyone wins!

Not to mention Felix did arguably worse than Chloe

Felix was the one who actively made Hawkmoth more powerful by giving him the miraculous (not to mention giving HM the ring) while with Chloe, Hawkmoth got the miraculous on his own and she was just along for the ride basically. Then Felix came back and snapped away everyone. Chloe sent everyone away when she was akumatized as well, but at least we could see where they went and there wasn’t any confusion as to whether they got snapped to some pocket dimension or straight up disappeared. Oh, and she was akumatized by Gabriel who was literally manipulating her along with Tomoe and Lila at the time??

I feel like any arguments for Felix about worrying for his or Adrien’s safety, any excuses, should’ve been thrown out the window in the season 4 finale. After that point he had full control over himself and gave up Adrien’s free will, and he still came back to snap everyone away! Now, I would absolutely be fine with this (cept the Adrien part) I mean trauma with humans isn’t going to go away just like that even when there’s no immediate risk anymore (unless you get a girlfriend apparently). My issue with that is how this same sentiment isn’t given to Chloe whatsoever, her lash outs aren’t given any thought beyond “oh she’s evil for the sake of it”, ignoring how the trauma of her mother leaving her and treating her like garbage would still affect her, and it drives me up the wall

Not to mention the show actively tries to pretend that the adults surrounding Chloe’s life don’t have any influence on her whatsoever, even though they obviously do and Tomoe and Gabriel literally set her up as a scapegoat in this season. Somehow her father isn’t responsible whatsoever for the way she was raised, her mother leaving apparently didn’t even affect her behavior because we’re genuinely supposed to believe this teenager is just an evil person. Somehow the storyline of her being set up as a scapegoat by two grown ass adults is literally ignored by the narrative including some of the fans

Oh but Felix gets all the sympathy regardless of what he did

Right.

I wouldn’t hate Felix or his character direction so much if it wasn’t a direct slap to the face for Chloe, not to mention giving the Chloe stans fuel! I mean, it literally proved their point that Chloe deserved a redemption because full grown adults who’ve done worse and a guy who’s done nearly the same shit as her are forgiven and “redeemed”, ridiculous (I say that a lot huh)

#ml salt #ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml chloe #chloe deserves better #felix salt #ml fandom salt #felix deserves better #writing that is

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yuurivoice · 2 months ago

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easiest and hardest part in the writing process for each of your projects? like maybe the earnestness of bittersweet or the world building of eoe, etc. idk if my question makes sense lol

I think across the board, the hardest part is undoubtedly just getting the work done. Battling with myself will always be the biggest pain point of the creative process, but I can identify a few particulars.

BitterSweet's best part in regards to writing has been the beauty of tapping into these kegs of creativity and discovering what was actually in there. I have ideas, bullet points, etc, but when the rubber hits the road it becomes magical. For example, realizing that so much of Alphonse's motivation is related to his grief. When working on the Director's Cut and going over chapter 1 specifically, I see these gaps where the grief I figured out later on fit so perfectly. It was always there, I just didn't want to pull back that particular curtain...for reasons that I probably don't even need to sit with my therapist to figure out, I can tell you EXACTLY what that was lol

The hardest part with BitterSweet was the handful of voices that I felt tried to invalidate my work. I let it bother me, a lot. It left a very sour taste in my mouth. To reduce this story about love to the very narrow viewpoint of only being valuable if the trio explicitly kiss and declare with very deliberate and specific language that it's deep romantic love is a garbage thing to do, and the anger I felt was nearly enough to get me to walk away entirely. But this challenge made me better as a writer, because it taught me to trust myself. I accomplished this much by listening to my heart, and my gut. I will accomplish even greater by continuing to do the same.

With Echoes of Evalas there is a bit of that same anxiety, because there are similarly bold choices being made in different ways. Antagonistic relationships, a general moving away from the heavily romance based influences in favor of a broader scope, etc. but a bigger challenge has been making tasteful, thoughtful, considerate choices in relation to how serious subjects will be handled. We're dealing with fantasy colonizers, displaced peoples, implied genocide. That shit is heavy, but the goal isn't to treat it as window dressing, but calling out the wickedness that those same acts are built upon in our world. The thing about it is, it's EASY to handle that with taste and care, but I feel the pressure to get it right and be responsible with my writing. So I do a lot of analyzing as I write.

For example, there was a situation recently with a fantasy race that has some tribal implications, and someone would absolutely throw around the word "savage" carelessly because there are facets of their culture that are violent in nature and opposed to the "normal" way of life. So as I began to delve into it, I recognized that it's on me to express how it is viewed within the culture itself, some of the reasoning, the way of life. You don't pluck the character out of that culture and then just make them the angry, bloodthirsty one, ya feel me? So rather than "x character is a killer with a grudge, he's just really angry and wants to murder the oppressors", we're looking at how the oppressors MANIPULATE and create that image to further that systematic oppression through fear of a culture unlike their own.

Said character is righteous in their anger, as are those who were wronged, but you can't just treat them as "oh they're big scary and violent" and leave it at that. Because that's literally pushing the same agenda that has been used to oppress peoples here in reality, and that's fucked.

So there's a WHOLE LOT of self analysis going on as I write, but I feel like I'm doing the best I can to ensure that what ends up being put to screen is made with the care and thoughtfulness that the fantasy genre has historically lacked.

The thing that I hope comes through loud and clear is that Evalas' stories specifically speak to the wicked thing in people's hearts that make them believe they have the right to oppress and lord over those who are different from themselves, in my pitch I've written for potential collaborators on the project, I specifically call this out:

"In summary, I think I’ve got something to say about whatever wicked thing finds its way into people’s hearts that may make them feel entitled to erase and rewrite that which makes another so different from them. It rears its head in ways broad and narrow, but they share the same ignorance and fear of otherness. Some that I’ve experienced personally, some that I’ve witnessed and stood in allyship against, and certainly more that I’ve yet to understand and consider."

There are many ways I cannot ever experience oppression, but I can identify the systems and hate that fuel the machine, and imagine a world where we put our faith in each other to overcome that hate. It cannot be perfect, or without failure and misunderstanding, but we can find our way towards being greater as a whole in our path to purge that wickedness from the world.

Saying alllllll of that to say, the hardest part of Evalas may also be the easiest, because these are core to my beliefs. It is work that feeds my soul and makes me consider my fellow man, and seek to understand and empathize and learn. If I stumble along the way, I hope I am afforded the grace to learn and continue that pursuit.

#yuurivoice #holy shit that was a lot of yapping lmfao

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owl-falls-au · 4 months ago

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Ooooo, wait I just realized that this would mean Stan meets father Titan aka King’s dad.

And just imagine with me, because of the curse, not only does he gain the Titian’s power and form, but gets to keep both cause it gets mixed in with the curse, and so when he reappears like a phoenix, he’s in this fusion form of himself, his curse form and the titan form.

Everyone is of course in shock. But before they can even really register it, Belos attacks again, but Stan summons a shield protecting them, and begins to fight Belos, while telling Collector to take Dipper, Mabel, and Ford as far away from here.

Luz, Eda, and King quickly join him.

Meanwhile Collector takes Dipper, Mabel, and Ford back to his palace, to help out the others in freeing everyone, while he holds the palace up. (Let’s agree that Stan and Luz had taught them all about how to make the right glyphs/ combinations, whilst they were still in Gravity Falls) and so everyone gets free a lot faster. So by the time they free everyone and get back, the fight with Belos is over.

The fight with Belos gets intense, they free Raine, they get back to fighting Belos, with it ending with both Stan and Luz pulling Belos off of the heart.

The just like originally, Eda, King, and Raine stomp off what’s left of Belos, though of course, with there being 3 extra people helping, the Hex squad were able to free everyone, and took Ford, Mabel, and Dipper back to where the fight had been happening. And so they also get the chance to stomp off Belos, especially Mabel, Dipper, and Ford, for killing their grunkle/brother.

Once that’s over with, they do get to reunite with Stan properly, with Ford crying hysterically, and apologizing so much while hugging him.

IN ENGLISH

You are absolutely right!

My idea for Stan to vanish into fire and ashes came from this post.

In this publication, an attempt is made to define what Stan's symbol means.

And since Stan has always been associated with fire, as well as phoenixes, he would rise from the ashes as a new person, someone complete...

I'd like to dig deeper into Stan's interaction with King's father.

After dying, Stan appears in the Intermediate Realm, descending once again, there, Stan would think that he should have told the children that he loves them.

Then someone pulls it out and it's none other than King's dad.

English:Stan: What...? King?

Titan: no, but I got the charm

Stan: … oh… Titan…

Titan: oh, I…

Stan: … you… are… are you King’s father?

Titan: King said it best, “I’m king and queen, the best of both worlds,” although “dad” works for me… I’m your fan, by the way - he points to a hat, once he’s on, with a crescent-shaped symbol and a small circle next to it -

Stan: oh, ah… thanks… I think… wait… if you’re here… does that mean I’m… dead?

Titan: not quite, your body was destroyed thanks to Belos, but it’s still possible for you to come back…

Stan: - relieved to know that - that’s great! … But… what is this place?

Titan: Welcome to the space in between! It's actually among many other things... this is a bridge that connects to all worlds...

Stan: you... you were the voice I heard when I tried to create the portal...

Titan: that's right... I must say that I'm very impressed... no human had achieved as many things as you... your family will be proud of you...

Stan: I'm not so sure...

Titan: don't underestimate yourself... taking care of those children, learning the glyphs, helping Eda and my son, coexisting with your curse, beating Bill at his own game, facing Belos, even when you doubted yourself...

Stan: w-well, when you put it like that, it does sound incredible... but... it's not much use if I can't protect them all... now I'm here...

Titan: it's true...

Stan: and... even so, I made many mistakes... I don't think I can help my family if I keep making mistakes...

Titan: ... all your life you've thought that you're someone replaceable, that you're not important and that no one I would miss you… life has treated you like garbage… but you never let that stop you… you accomplished amazing things… and you are capable of more than you imagine…

The squares around them showed memories of Stan and some of his exploits, how he discovered how to do glyph magic, how he managed to calm the beast from its own curse, how he tricked Bill into a truce between the two of them and how he saved the children countless times, even when he created the portals with little information and the moment he saved the collector

Titan: Your path may have started in a painful way… but for 40 years, you changed, you grew, you matured and you became stronger… you sacrificed yourself, not for the common good, but for the love of your loved ones… now they need you back…

Stan: … I don't stand a chance against Belos… it was easy before, but now… I can't…

Titan: mmh… well…

As everything around him shakes violently, Stan looks at his chest The Titan fills with something green

Titan: I don't have much time left... but you can still stop him...

Stan: How?! I'm not a witch or a wizard, I'm not like the "chosen ones" from the books of Light. I don't even know who I am!

Titan: Then you'll have to find out for yourself... I'll give you the power to stop Belos... but only if you accept it

The Titan extends his hand, a glow comes out of it and the four basic glyphs that Stan learned are drawn

Stan: I-I... I don't know... What if I fail?

Titan: ... listen carefully... you are Stanley Pines, from the human realm, one of the most powerful wizards of the boiling islands and warrior of peace... you have the power of your curse, you are the reincarnation of one of the most dangerous entities in the multiverse and you are undoubtedly someone with a good heart... the question is... Do you choose yourself, "chosen one"?

Stan hesitates, but knowing that his family needs him, and knowing that there are no other options, he decides to accept

As he shakes hands with the Titan's hand, he feels the magic entering his body

Titan: Belos is about to be able to control everything, so you must be quick…

Stan: I…

Titan: Unlike magic in humans, you have more power on your own, so my magic should last more than enough, just don't use it lightly and remember not to let Bill control you

Stan: Wait, what about King?! Don't you want to tell him something?

Titan: …

The Titan whispers something to Stan

Stan: Yeah, he'll definitely love it… but… What do you mean I'm a reincarnation?

Titan: What I mentioned about you being a reincarnation should be able to help you, once you come back, you won't be just Stan anymore, you'll be a new person and that person will be you, you, Bill and Lupin will be one…

Stan: What? But-

Stan is stunned to see that the titan has returned to its original form

Titan: Goodbye, “chosen one”… just kidding… goodbye, Stanley Pines…

And so, the titan sank into those strange black waters of the intermediate space

And Stan would return, no longer as a human with two demons co-existing in his mind, but as a different person…

And as the titan sinks, Stan hears a voice that slowly becomes familiar to him... AXOLOTL...

Well done, Stanley...

EN ESPAÑOL

¡Tienes toda la razón!

Mi idea de que Stan se desvanezca entre fuego y cenizas salió de esta publicación

en ella se intenta definir que significa el simbolo de Stan

Y ya que Stan siempre estuvo asociado al fuego, así como los fénix, renaceria de las cenizas como una nueva persona, alguien completo...

Me gustaría indagar más sobre la interacción de Stan con el padre de King

Después de haber muerto, Stan aparece en el Reino intermedio, descendiendo una vez más, ahí, Stan pensaría en que debió decirle a los niños que los ama

Entonces, alguien lo saca y es nada menos que el papá de King

Stan: ¿Que...? ¿King?

Titan: no, pero se mi heredó el encanto

Stan: … oh… Titan…

Titan: oh, yo…

Stan: … ¿tu… eres… eres el padre de King?

Titan: King lo dijo mejor, “Soy rey y reina, lo mejor de ambas cosas”, aunque “papá” funciona para mi… soy tu fan, por cierto - señala un sombrero, un vez que tiene puesto, con el símbolo de una especie de medialuna y un pequeño círculo al lado -

Stan: oh, ah… gracias… creo… espera … si tú estás aquí… eso significa que yo estoy… muerto?

Titan: no del todo, tu cuerpo se destruyó gracias a Belos, pero aún es posible que regreses…

Stan: - aliviado de saber eso - ¡que bien! … Pero… ¿Qué es este lugar?

Titan: ¡Bienvenido al espacio intermedio! En realidad está entre muchas otras cosas… este es un puente que se conecta con todos los mundos…

Stan: tu… tu eras la voz que escuchaba cuando intentaba crear el portal…

Titan: así es… debo decir que estoy muy impresionado… ningún humano había logrado tantas cosas como tú… tu familia estará orgullosa de ti…

Stan: no estoy tan seguro…

Titán: no te subestimes… cuidar de esos niños, aprender los glifos, ayudar a Eda y a mi hijo, coexistir con tu maldición, ganarle en su propio juego a Bill, enfrentar a Belos, incluso cuando dudabas de ti mismo…

Stan: b-bueno, cuando lo pones así, si suena algo increíble… pero… no sirve de mucho si no puedo protegerlos a todos… ahora estoy aqui…

Titan: es cierto…

Stan: y… aun así, cometí muchos errores… no creo que pueda ayudar a mi familia si sigo cometiendo errores…

Titan: … toda tu vida has pensado que eres alguien reemplazable, que no eres importante y que nadie te extrañaria… la vida te ha tratado como basura… pero nunca dejaste que eso te detenga… lograste cosas impresionantes… y eres capaz de mas de lo que imaginas…

Los cuadrados alrededor de ellos mostraron recuerdos de Stan y algunas de sus hazañas, como descubrió a hacer magia de glifos, como logro calmar a la bestia de su propia maldición, como engaño a Bill para que ellos dos llegaran a una tregua y como salvó a los niños incontables veces, incluso cuando creo los portales con poca información y el momento en que Salvo al coleccionista

Titan: puede que tu camino iniciará de una forma dolorosa… pero durante 40 años, fuiste cambiando, creciste, maduraste y te volviste mas fuerte… te sacrificaste, no por el bien común, sino por amor a tus seres queridos… ahora ellos te necesitan de vuelta…

Stan: … no tengo ninguna oportunidad contra Belos… antes era fácil, pero ahora… no puedo…

Titan: mmh… bueno…

Mientras todo alrededor se sacude violentamente, Stan mira que el pecho del Titán se llena de algo verde

Titan: no me queda mucho tiempo… pero aun puedes detenerlo…

Stan: ¡¿Cómo?! No soy una bruja o un hechicero, no soy como los “elegidos” de los libros de Luz ¡Ni siquiera se quien soy!

Titan: entonces tendrás que averiguarlo tu… te daré el poder para detener a Belos… pero solo si lo aceptas

El titán extiende su mano, de ella sale un brillo y se dibujan los cuatro glifos básicos que Stan aprendió

Stan: y-yo… No lo sé… ¿Y si fracaso?

Titan: … escucha bien… tu eres Stanley Pines, proveniente del reino humano, uno de los hechiceros más poderosos de las islas hirvientes y guerrero de la paz…tienes el poder de tu maldición, eres la reencarnación de uno de los entes más peligrosos del multiverso y sin duda eres alguien de buen corazón… la pregunta es… ¿Te eliges a ti mismo, “elegido”?

Stan duda, pero sabiendo que su familia lo necesita, y sabiendo quenp hay más opciones, decide aceptar

Cuando estrecha su mano con la mano del Titan, siente la magia entrando en su cuerpo

Titan: Belos esta por poder controlar todo, así que debes ser rápido…

Stan: yo…

Titan: a diferencia de la magia en humanos, tú tienes más poder por tu cuenta, así que mi magia deberá durar más que suficiente, solo no lo uses a la ligera y recuerda no dejar que Bill te controlé

Stan: espera, pero ¡¿que pasa con King?! ¿No quieres decirle algo?

Titan: …

El titán le susurra algo a Stan

Stan: si, en definitiva le encantará… pero… ¿A que te refieres con que soy una reencarnación?

Titán: lo que mencioné sobre que eres una reencarnación debería poder ayudarte, una vez que vuelvas, ya no serás solo Stan, serás una nueva persona y esa persona serás tú, tu, Bill y Lupin serán uno solo…

Stan: ¿Que? Pero-

Stan se queda anonadado al ver que el titán volvió a tener su forma original

Titan: adiós, “elegido”… es broma… adiós, Stanley Pines…

Y así, el titan se hundió en esas extrañas aguas negras del espacio intermedio

Y Stan volvería, ya no como un humano con dos demonios co-existiendo en su mente, sino como una persona diferente…

Y mientras el titán se hunde, Stan escucha una voz que poco a poco se vuelve familiar para el... AXOLOTL...

Bien hecho, Stanley...

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