#and then it was like ‘get job’ and then increasingly ‘adjust to job’ and I did both of those things

[itspileofgoodthings]

Years ago, I asked you what the different alternate universe Maria’s were doing with their lives. Are the answers still the same?

OOOOOOF yes.

but now I’m in the period where I have to face that I do not, in fact, have multiple lives so I have to figure out what I’m doing with my one wild and precious life and the sort of (for me, at least) ease of following a particular school-related completion course that wasn’t too hard to commit to or finish has come to an end and I am at a crossroads where it’s just like—you could choose. And on some level, in the next few years, you need to. Low-key terrifying and I hate it.

[superchat]

you know honestly, for a 4 day work week after a 3 day weekend this week has been so fucking hard holy shit i hate it

[innocent-artery]

Trial and Error

1.6k words

Summary: Your new boyfriend Eddie finds out that you've been faking orgasms. He makes it his mission to make sure you don't have to.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

~

One hour.

It had been the most blissful hour of your life, but it increasingly became more frustrating as it went on.

Eddie hovered over you, pile driving his cock into you with force that had prompted him to place an extra pillow behind your head when it had knocked against the headboard a while earlier. One of his arms propped him up onto his elbow, the other toying with one of your nipples. His pubic bone was brushing your clit with each push of his hips, and his mouth was latched onto your other nipple dutifully.

So why couldn't you orgasm?

In theory, Eddie was doing everything right. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with him, and you did feel good, it just wasn't building like it was supposed to, you couldn't get that push to tip over the edge. You'd managed to get yourself there on your own, but Eddie, skillful as he was, wasn't you. He couldn't feel exactly what you felt, he relied on reaction. You'd tried giving him directions, from which he learned well, but when they fell just short of getting you to orgasm, you stopped trying to adjust, not wanting to feel nit-picky or difficult.

And so eventually you'd fallen into a habit of pretending to orgasm. It was easy at first, when you were still testing the waters. When he'd fingered you and you couldn't orgasm, you faked it, brushing it off thinking that you just needed his mouth. A few weeks later, when he added his mouth, you brushed it off again, resigning to believe that only his dick would do the job.

And here you were, with his dick inside you for the first time, and you were back where you'd found yourself all those times before. Still hitting that brick wall you couldn’t get over.

You knew deep down that you should just tell Eddie. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to make you feel good. But after time you'd simply given up on it. You still felt good, you thought, and that was good enough.

The thought seemed overwhelmingly clear now, and for some reason that escaped you, it pricked at your waterline.

Glancing over at the clock, you entertained the act again. You took a fistful of his hair, arched your back with a loud, gasping "Fuck, Eddie" and deliberately clenched your pussy around him. You felt his hips stutter, then still as he pulled out. You watched as he fisted his cock a few times, spilling his cum over your stomach. The muscles tensed with the foreign sensation.

You opened your eyes, watching Eddie hovering over you, panting, and you felt your pussy throb. That was only more frustrating.

A moment of silence fell over the two of you, the hot smell of sex thick in the air. You assume Eddie believes you came, until you note the slightly perplexed expression on his face, staring at your collarbone as he was lost in thought, rolling something around in his head. He seems to have concluded the thought with a sigh out his nose, leaning up to kiss you sweetly.

"Feeling good?" He muttered, grinning into your mouth.

"Mhm," you sighed between kisses. "Hardest I've ever come." This was, in fact, total bullshit.

At that, Eddie stopped, pulled away to see your face. "Really?"

You nodded. He shrugged. "That's strange, because I didn't feel it at all."

You froze.

He popped his lips, giving you a sympathetic smile. "I wasn't sure at first, thinking you just didn't have much of a physical reaction when you came. Was still unsure just asking now, but your reaction gives it away."

The wind seemed to be knocked out of you, opting to watch your hand play with his hair than look him in the eye.

"I'm not mad, sweetness, I just don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." Your voice was small. "I think...I think I just didn't want to be a bother. I tried telling you stuff to make it better but it still wasn't working- not that you're doing anything wrong!" you added quickly when he blinked at you. "So I just stopped."

"Honey, you know I'm glad to go to whatever lengths are needed to make you orgasm, and if you don't I'm not doing my job." He was earnest in his words, and it made your heart both swell with love and sink with guilt.

"I know. I just feel bad when you've been eating me out for half an hour and I'm no closer to an orgasm than I was twenty minutes ago."

Eddie sighed, pecking your cheek and sitting up on his calves. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, bubs. I genuinely do not care, in the nicest way possible. You need hours? I've got all the time in the world. You need a specific technique? Show me what to do. I don't care if getting you to orgasm takes a little more work, I'd rather take the time to learn than have you pretend for my sake."

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time with love. You sat up and pulled his face towards yours, kissing him with as much adoration and gratitude as you could muster.

"Sweetness?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been able to make yourself cum?"

You mumbled an 'mhm', in between kisses.

"I have an idea." He pulled away, eyes now sparked with determination. "I want you to get in whatever position you normally do when you touch yourself."

When he pulled back, you were still for a moment. It took his raising of an eyebrow and gentle gesture to snap you out of it, shifting your weight and the pillows until you lay comfortably on your back.

"Good." Eddie adjusted himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, face level with your pussy. "Now, show me how it's done."

Your jaw nearly fell open. "Eddie..."

Eddie tilted his head, searching for signs of hesitancy on your face. After a moment of stunned silence you began to move, both hands reaching for your tits. Groping, massaging, pinching, caressing. Slowly, so slowly, pulling soft hitches of breath followed by sighs each time. You felt your eyelids flutter closed, partly from the sensation you were losing yourself in, partly from slight embarrassment.

Your left hand traveled up to your neck, soft caresses over your jaw and pulse point before finding the pressure points that had your brain turning fuzzy and a low, breathy noise rumbling in your throat. The right hand found the flesh of your thigh, groping it softly before alternating with your ass.

Eddie chuckled softly. "Didn't know you grabbed your own ass, pretty."

You felt your cheeks warm. "I usually just imagine you doing whatever I'm doing, so..."

"Do you?" Even with your eyes closed you could see the ego-inflated grin pulling his lips back. "Good, that's good. Show me what you picture me doing."

You continued like that for a moment, just feeling around your body. Your middle finger traced the junction between your thigh and your cunt, making your body tense with excitement.

When your eyes had had the courage to open again, they met a lovely sight. Eddie was crouched dutifully down in front of you, hungry and lust-blown eyes noting every slight movement of your hand, gaze flicking from one had to the other, to your face, to your pussy on display in front of him.

Nearly shaking in anticipation, you reached down gingerly to graze a fingertip against the spot right above your clit, which had your hips following your hand when it left.

A soft breath was pulled from you at the action, but it turned into a choked gasp when your finger finally pressed down towards where slick had gathered. You opted to sift it around, collecting it on your fingertips before sliding them up to your clit, a firm, slow swipe making you let out a weak sound.

Once you found a rhythm, you opened your eyes. Eddie was staring intently at your motions, trying to burn every little motion into his brain, wanting to memorize the exact shape you drew into your body. His eyes flicked up to your face every so often, but when they caught on that you were staring, they lingered. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands caressing the backs of your thighs, a motion intended to be soothing but instead sent shivers into your skin in its wake.

"Eddie..." you sighed, motions increasing in intensity. Through your growing desperation you managed to stay slow, keeping yourself on edge.

The boy in question groaned into your skin. The idea that he'd asked you to show him exactly what you did when you were alone and that this was what you thought to do. Say his name. That was what came naturally, that was what fueled your desire. Him.

It didn't go unnoticed that your soft moans were getting louder, airier, higher pitched. Eddie reached his hands under you to grip your ass, caressing and squeezing the flesh.

"Good, good." Eddie murmured.

"Fuck, say that again," you gasped.

"What? That you're doing so good? So good for me, yeah? Look fuckin' perfect, 'n I can smell you from here. Christ baby, sound like a damn song, sound so pretty."

Your fervent motions plus Eddie's soft touches and sex-incarnate voice all tipped you over that sticky sweet edge. This orgasm didn't barrel into you, rather, it washed over you, warmth coursing over you from your core outwards. It felt like euphoria.

When you came down and opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you with a stupid but awestruck look.

"Well, there's no going back, 'cause I can definitely tell the difference now."

~

[ghouldump]

I want to be lestats make up artist and stylist so baddddd after that trailer.

Imagine touring with him while he constantly tries to woo you.

And the fans just seeing him being flirty toward reader

SOMEBODY TAKE MY PHONE AWAY I AM NOT WELLLLLLLLLLL

Diva | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ lestat is a handful to tour with but he's also incredibly handsome and charismatic.

lmfaooo same, more rockstar lestat coming soon!

Touring with Lestat De Lioncourt was not the easiest, at least not at first. The number of makeup artists and stylists who accepted the job, before quitting was ridiculous. Everyone was terrified of him, or of making him angry, walking on eggshells around him.

You were a well-known makeup influencer, starting with tutorials, but with your renowned success, you began working with celebrities, doing makeup, or simply styling them. When you were contacted by his manager, offering twice as much as others, explaining he couldn't keep a stylist or makeup artist, you accepted. You had dealt with plenty of other celebrities in the past, with even more diva tendencies, so you weren't going to let some rockstar ruin your coins.

Meeting him, you immediately realized two things, one, he was even more handsome off-screen, and two, he acted as if everyone was insufferable, like he was gracing their presence, doing them a favor.

“Can we get some makeup on him,” the director told you, picking up the pallet and brush, moving to his cheek, he scoffed.

“Does it look like I need makeup?” he asked you, while you rolled your eyes.

“Actually, yes, you could use some lipgloss and highlight,” you said, matching his tone. Everyone grew quiet, watching the interaction. He turned his head, looking at you, before smirking.

“You may,” he said, letting you lift his head, and apply the highlight, before taking a thinner brush and dabbing the tinted lipgloss onto his lips.

“Better?” he asked you.

“Much better,” you grinned, walking away.

“I like her,” he said, adjusting in the chair.

Instantly after, you were offered a contract, the first in nearly twenty artists to be able to lift a brush to his skin, they needed you. As the tour began, he continued with the shenanigans seducing the audience, while managing to keep them terrified.

“Sit still, I hope you don't frown at your fans like that,” you told him, as you clamped the necklace around his neck.

“And who did your hair?”

“He did,” his assistant mumbled.

“I can tell”

“Is something wrong with my hair?” he stared at you through the mirror.

“Nope, it fits you, wild and untamed,” you snickered, as you moved in front of him, using a brush to apply glitter to his face. Using your finger, you rubbed a bit on his chest.

“You know I enjoy when you touch me there, ma chérie,” he said.

“Whatever,” you laughed, finishing his look.

Over the last few months, Lestat became increasingly bold with his flirtation with you. Hell, besides his manager, you're the only person on his team that he talked to, with eye contact.

“They're ready for you,” His assistant said, reading a text from her phone. Standing, Lestat kept his eyes set on you.

“Come, we haven't finished our conversation,” he held out his hand, stopping you as you were about to put away the makeup.

Taking his hand, he led you out of the trailer, his arm going around your neck to pull you closer.

“What is it?” you asked him, biting back your smile.

“Have you thought about my offer?”

After touring the States, he was set to go on a world tour, and he insisted that you renew your contract to come along.

“I don't know, that's a long time, Les,” you said lowly, intertwining your fingers with the hand over your shoulder.

“I’ll need my makeup done and only the best clothing”

“I thought you didn't need makeup?”

“I don't, but only you could do the task so beautifully, I wouldn't dare let one of those amateurs near me,” he frowned.

“Oh my god, there he goes,” a fan screamed, causing an uproar. Lestat remained unfazed, his arm still around you, his eyes unmoving from your face.

“Is that his girlfriend?”

“He has a girlfriend? I thought he was gay”

“No girl, he's bi”

“Then I still have a chance!”

“They're so cute together”

“You’re going to have us in blogs in the morning,” you told him.

“All publicity is good publicity,” he shrugged.

“We’ll talk more later,” you told him, rubbing your lips together, when you realized he was staring at them.

“Hopefully about you staying with me, and not wanting to go home”

“You need to focus on your concert right now, and we can talk later,” you laughed.

“Fine, make sure to scream extra loud for me, ma chérie,” he said, blowing a kiss to you, before walking up the steps, the loud music starting up.

Crossing your arms, you watched as he performed, his aura exuding sex appeal. After all these months of working with him, you could see why he acted as if he was gracing people with his presence. He was more handsome than most, the attention falling on him wherever he went, and here he was, openly desiring you.

Late nights, after he'd come back from doing whatever, he'd come to your hotel rooms. You eventually realized that on the inside of this beautiful man, was a lonely soul. He craved companionship and being around him, you didn't know how much more you could take before you gave into temptation.

[stunie]

“SHH…. KEEP IT QUIET.”

╰ ❤︎ ft. gen narumi (kaiju no. 8) x cat hybrid! f!reader. 4.2K WC ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⭑

summary ᯓ⭑ : narumi’s back to streaming one of his games.. again?! well.. he’s gotta get that follower count up somehow, so today he’s got his dick inside his newest pet- but remember. it’s just cock warming, ok? nothing more. dumb cat .. listen here. make this look, in his words, ‘not so suspicious,’ and he just might give u a reward later if u can do a half decent job.

contains : explicit smut (18+), cat hybrid! reader, brat taming, cock warming, creampies, cum play, degradation, dirty talk, dumbification, hate sex? kind of, heavy overstimulation, mild exhibitionism & dacryphilia (barely), fingering, oral sex (cunninglingus), orgasm control?, pet play n pet names, squirting, teasing, unprotected sex, not proofread >_<

note : aaand the first fic on this blog is up !!! am seriously hoping u all have fun reading this one <3 i had such a blast writing it ^^

“Better start quieting down,” Narumi warns, grunting as he adjusts his position on his gaming chair before his fingers are rapidly clicking at his mouse. “Stream’s about to start in about… thirty seconds or so.”

You don’t have to look in his direction for him to sense the clear disdain in the glare you’ve got plastered across your face. He feels you bury your nose into the muscles of his shoulder as you try and steady your breathing, arms wrapped loosely around his neck in a weak attempt at staying hidden from his viewers- try and make it look like you weren’t just gushing all over Narumi’s face a minute or two ago.

It all happened too fast.

You hadn’t even recovered from the orgasm he ripped out of you five minutes ago when he had you flat on your stomach to spread you open with his fingers before burying his face inside your cunt, lapping, sucking, then fucking his tongue in and out of you. And actually… you don’t even recall him wiping the juices from his chin before shoving you on his lap. For all you know, your slick could still be all over his face right now in front of thousands to see.

Had he given you time to catch your breath, you wouldn’t be here playing this little game right now.

“I'm not even ready, you asshat,” you hiss under your breath, whisper coming out unsteady with the way his fat cock forces your walls to stretch in order to accommodate his thickness, walls still fluttering from the effects of your last high. Only now, you're clenching around his dick instead of his tongue. You think you heard Narumi scoff at this, but he's greeting his watchers only a second later.

With the way his arms are coming up to wave to them, followed by a dramatic slam of his hands onto his desk at a particularly provoking comment (most likely from hoshina), it doesn't take you very long to start squirming in his lap. Each movement Narumi makes has his fat tip prodding at your gummy walls, and it's becoming increasingly harder to stay quiet like this..

You'd never admit it, but he's big. On any other day, you think you'd be more willing to agree to be his little pet cocksleeve; keep his dick nice and warm for him while he tries to rank up in this game. But today is different. He's got you needy, got you gushing over his tongue, and it leaves you feeling greedy for something thicker.

Your pointed ears perk up at the abrupt sound of his mouse clicking around, your tail eagerly swishing side to side as you imagine the types of comments flooding his inbox at the sight of you. Do they think you're cute? It's not obvious that you're all soaked and needy, is it?

If only Narumi let you turn around and see for yourself.

You wouldn't ask him, of course. Not a chance. Stay planted on his dick, stay quiet, and if no one suspects you, it was your win. And your reward? Two free orgasms from Narumi. However way you want- he might add.

“Oh geez,” Narumi's sigh pulls you out of your thoughts. “Already asking about her?”

“She's napping. Yeah— so let's talk about me,” He babbles into his mic, and his free hand starts to roam around the swell of your ass. “You all should head to your instagram before we get started. Let everyone know she's sound asleep on my shoulder right now. That's just how safe she feels around me.”

You think it's a good thing he decided to have you face his direction rather than the screen, because you didn't want to have to listen to the earful he'd give you if the viewers had caught you rolling your eyes at him for the umpteenth time that day. Regardless, the slick pooling underneath you was getting more and more uncomfortable with each passing second, and you're becoming keenly aware of the sheer amount that's dripped down your thighs, now collecting and smearing across his lap.

And you don't really like feeling wet.

A small shift in position is all you do. You're quiet and slow when you raise your hips a bit, just barely hovering above his thighs in your attempt to get rid of the slick that's making his thighs lewdly stick to yours, but he catches the shift in weight in an instant.

“Ah— stirring already, cat? This chair's supposed to be comfy, y'know,” He drawls, not sparing you a glance when you flinch at the words, still clicking away at his game all too casually. So casually that you don't even react when his hand wraps around your tail, not until he roughly yanks you back down in one hard motion.

You're crashing back onto his lap, thickness sheathing itself fully inside you as your mouth falls open in a silent scream, tongue lolling out at the fullness. You think it's absolutely appalling just how easily he's able to mask his reaction by simply adjusting himself on his chair, taking advantage of the movement by giving you a warning thrust into your cunt before he's still again. “No, what?” He snaps, ignoring the way you're practically panting into his ear with need now. “She's definitely comfortable. Very happy to be here, actually.”

“I’m not lying. She loves me.”

You hate that it's not exactly an understatement. The word “loves” has your mind flashing to the events of last night, more specifically- the image of you crying and trembling underneath him, fistful of his hair tight in your hands as you desperately cling onto him, babbling “I love you” over and over as he mercilessly bullied his cock into you.

It's even worse because you know he absolutely loved every second of it. Every second that you're not acting like such a fucking brat, which- to his dismay, wasn't very many.

Narumi's eyes shift towards the side of his screen, scanning through the newest comments that have popped up in his inbox.

Enchantedknight46: u sure ur not forcing her to keep u company Imao ?

tooezusuck: it's ok if u are

12steelwing: Did u bring here on here be u lost more followers last stream? Need eye candy to gain some?

Batmansballs: I think she's pretty so idrc, but what's that? A cat costume?

His eyes twitch. A part of him is wholeheartedly thankful you've got your head buried in the crook of his neck, glad you're not reading these comments. God, he's irritated just imagining how these fuckers would get in your head so easily, get you swinging your tail all happy and purr something along the lines of “Aww, they think I’m cute? Better make me feel good if you want me to stay here with you. They kinda look like they'd take good care of me, huh Gen?”

He sighs before he's clicking his tongue, raising his other hand to roughly jut an accusatory finger at the screen. “Can't just watch my game, huh? Listen up. When I wake her up and she says I'm right, you all better start typing your apologies” He grits through a forced smile, ripping his headset off before it's being tossed haphazardly onto his desk.

You hiss when he's tugging you by your ear, tilting to whisper a “hear that?” and the sound of his voice sends an electrifying shiver straight down your spine. “They wanna see you. But don't go forgetting our deal already. Just one person notices and it's a loss for you.”

“Don't forget.”

It's not like Narumi's worried about losing or anything. Just one quick glance at your face and he can tell you're going crazy with need, frustrated tears collecting along your lashes, and your lips are all swollen and pouty. Most likely from... biting them to stay quiet? A very interesting observation.

He'd make sure to tease you about that later.

“I hate you sometimes.” Your whisper comes out strained, followed by a whimper that slips out when his cock involuntarily twitches inside you. Oh, that's right. He actually likes when you get mad at him- that fucker.

You're inhaling sharply, gathering yourself to the best of your ability before you finally pull yourself off of him, heavy cock slapping against his stomach as you turn, feet planted on his thighs when you reach to grab his headset. Narumi's eyes are trailing down your frame the next second, and if those viewers weren't here right now, he could probably fuck you just like this. Have your hands grip the table, move your feet a bit so that you're balancing on the edge of the seat, squatting just above him and letting him fuck his dick up into you just like that..

“Hello? Can you guys hear me?” You blurt out, voice sugar sweet and innocent, and he almost wants to gag at the implication. You were absolutely anything but. “Ah— so you can! That's good.”

There's a moment of silence as you cutely adjust the headset, glossed lips tugging into a pout with the way it doesn't sit right against your ears. Narumi's leaning back behind you, elbow on the armrest as he rests his head against his palm. He looks bored even.

“Hmmm,” you hum, eyes scanning over the comments... and yeah, they love you. Your pretty lips tug into a knowing smile after scanning comment after comment as they all begin to flood in, all of them saying the exact same thing. But how could they not? You were just a sweet little kitten, fluffy and innocent, and you emphasize this with a slow and alluring sway of your tail, eyes half lidded and completely seductive as you lean in towards the cam.

“Mhm, I guess I love him....” You shrug, feigning disappointment, “But hey. You guys love me way more, right? I can totally tell.”

You feel Narumi perk up from behind you in disbelief, head lifting from where's he had it resting it on his hand. A slow blink. Then two.

Did you just fucking say ‘I guess?’

“Mhm!” You nod at a comment, and he feels his veins bulge against the skin of his neck. “Deal. So why don't you all leave him and come watch me play instead? My user is st-agh!”

The rest of your words come out muffled against the palm he's clamped over your mouth. You recognize it as the same one that was rubbing at your cunt just a few minutes ago, and you can tell because you can taste yourself on him.

“Mmph!” You retort, gasping when he's roughly pulling you back into his lap, chair scooting forward as he grabs his mouse. “Streams over,” his voice comes out a pitch lower, “Said she loves me. Start typing up the apologies.”

He's leaning to switch off the stream the next second, and it falls eerily silent as soon as the in-game lobby music abruptly shuts off. You fiddle with your tail, chuckling nervously as you crane your neck to get a glimpse of Narumi... and you really shouldn't have.

He looks mad.

Before you can even get a word out, Narumi's tossing you onto his bed, and you yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress. He doesn't give you a second to even gasp, his hands looping around your ankles and pulling you back towards the edge of the bed until his cock is flush against your drooling cunt. “Huh. You're a real fucking naughty kitten, know that? Anyone ever told you what a piece of work you are?”

He hates that you're getting off to this. If you weren't on your back, your tail would be eagerly whishing back and forth, ears peeking up with anticipation from the change in tone. He'll admit that he likes when you're mad, but you're not much different from him. It's obvious with the way you keep glancing down at his cock, and he thinks you might as well just stare at it with little pink hearts in your eyes.

“Just you,” you shake your head, “Everyone else says I’m an angel, Gen. Your viewers too, apparently.”

There's a warning thrust to your cunt, your eyes widening when his tip catches against your clit just perfectly, and the sound the action makes is nothing but filthy — wet and sloppy. Narumi's hands slam down beside your head, looming over you as your walls clench around nothing. “Yeah? Wanna talk about my viewers?”

“Take a look at the screen behind me. It's got my exact follower count.”

You crane your head to peer over his shoulder. “And?” His lips tug into a grin. “We're changing the game a bit.”

“Not fair, Gen,” you pout, eyes furrowed as your tail comes to rub the softness against his bicep. “I won, so you gotta make me cum twice now.”

“Yeah yeah, well the count's at 18,567 now. Get on your knees before I forget.”

Narumi's easily hoisting you up before you can move yourself, rudely flipping you over and letting your hands scramble to catch yourself, face falling flat against the mattress. But it's fine, he thinks, because cats always land on their feet, or whatever.

“It's at 18,566 now by the way, thanks to you.”

“They would've left either way!” You protest, eyes clenching shut in pain when he grabs a fistful of your tail. “And i don't care about your follower count.”

“You should. Each loss is gonna be plus one for you.”

“Huh?”

He sighs. “18,565... so that would make four orgasms now. Two plus two, my dumb kitty. It's not very hard.”

The realization suddenly hits you, and you crane your neck to look at him. “That's not fair! And that's way too much, I'd never agree to tha-”

One sharp tug to your tail has you biting your words.

“Way too much?” He asks incredulously, kneeling at the foot of his bed, “Didn't think the ungrateful cat would ever be satisfied.”

You flinch as soon as you feel his breath fanning against your cunt, and he notices. You look absolutely delicious like this, pussy pretty and swollen- and completely drenched for him. His fingers are spreading your folds, content with the way your tail starts to sway like clockwork. “But,” you whine, “You lose so many followers. I'll be here forever.”

His eyebrow twitches at the implication.

“That's your fault— you have yourself to blame,” Narumi pushes a finger inside your hole, the digit curling against your walls as you cry out. It takes him a little less time to find your spot each time you're under him. By now... he's got it memorized. Could probably find it in his sleep, he thinks, you're so easy. He'd be able to find it blindfolded too, but it'd be such a breeze that it's not even worth buying a blindfold to find out. “You take a bunch of my followers,” he continues, “And I use up one of those nine lives of yours. Yeah? So sit still.”

“You're the worst.” You pout, face contorting as soon as he slips in a second finger, curling skillfully against your sensitive spot, and oh- you feel his lips ghost just over your clit.

“Yeah yeah— about time I start hearing less talking and more meowing,” he grunts into your cunt, and he's lapping at your slick the next second, tongue roughly flicking over the pearl with precision, and his fingers aren't letting up, still beating your insides as you start to feel the familiar feeling build up deep in your belly.

“A-ah!” You cry out, hands grasping at the sheets as your tail whips upward, back arching deeply to relieve some of the stimulation. It's a lewd position you've got yourself in, and he loves it.

This was the best part.

Narumi can feel his cock ache when he feels your walls hungrily clench around his fingers, your desperate mewls muffled against the soft sheets of the mattress as he laps at your cunt. He loves watching you approach your high, loves the way the brat gets fucked out of you only after he gets you creaming, even if it's just for a bit.

And he's so sloppy with you. He's licking up and down, sucking at your clit before pulling back and lewdly spitting on it, his fingers making your pussy squelch and squirt as he fucks them in and out of you, and oh-if only you could see the way your slick has begun dripping down his wrists. “There you go,” he groans straight into your cunt, and it makes you jolt, “Hurry. I'm aching and it's annoying.”

“F-fuck…” you try to retort with something, anything, but the words get stuck in your throat. You can't. Not with the way your thighs have begun trembling, pretty eyes hazy and lidded as you feel the tight knot balling up in your stomach.

Again? And so soon? This would be the second time you've come undone on his mouth just today, and a part of you wonders what the count is at now— and exactly how you're gonna be able to handle it.

“...Ah! gonna c-cum,” your eyes clench shut, pointed ears twitching, and he's shoving a third finger inside a moment after, reaching deep inside you as his tongue keeps his pace against your swollen little clit. “Gen!”

Narumi's free hand loops around your thigh, pulling you flush against his face, his tongue roughly flicking your clit the same time he curls his fingers particularly hard, and that's all it takes to have you screaming, tail slapping across his face as you gush, the knot snapping inside you with an intensity that has your vision blurring with white.

“Fuckin' whacked my eye, you damned cat,” he growls, fingers slowing his movements as your walls spasm and flutter against him before he takes them out, thick string of slick connecting the two. His tongue is coming to push inside instead, and you cry out loudly when you feel him pushing deeper, appendage curling and reaching deep inside your pussy as he hungrily laps at your juices.

Even when your jaw falls slack, body going limp and falling flat onto the plush bed, he doesn't stop. He keeps you flush against his tongue, forcing you to let him have his fill until you've been reduced to nothing but a sloppy little mess, whining and shaking under his touch.

“E-enough…” You slur, chest heaving up and down in heavy pants as you come down from your high, vision now dotted with blurry little stars.

“Geez,” Narumi huffs, rising back to his feet as he swipes his thumb over his mouth, wiping your juices off before he's popping the digit in his mouth and sucking.“Your stamina sucks.”

“It's at 18,563 by the way, so get up. We're nowhere near finished. Consider this your training.”

You can't respond, and you can't move your legs. The way you struggle to get back on your knees has his ego stroked nice and good, but he's on quite the time crunch. Narumi’s reaching for your tail next, yanking your hips back up for him as you yelp in pain. “All talk, huh? Where's your usual spunk?”

He's roughly pulling you backwards, one quick yank of your tail to fully sheathe himself inside you, and your eyes roll back at the stretch. “Gonna put your nine lives to the test, so you'd better prepare yourself. We're already at 18,561 now and it's all your fault.”

The noises he's pulling from you are just obscene, and the grip he has on your tail is nothing but mean, pulling you back to meet his hips halfway as he pounds into you roughly, foot coming to rest on the edge of the mattress to better leverage himself. “You in heat or something? You're soaked. The bratty cat likes this, huh? Falling in love with me?”

“F-fuck no!” You cry into the mattress, hands scrambling to grasp at the sheets to ground yourself.

“S-said you're just alright— Gen...!”

He's looming over your form the next second, hand pushing your face down into the sheets, your thighs trembling wildly as you whine beneath him. You're way beyond your limit, legs using every ounce of strength left to keep your ass up for him. “Alright?” He spits,“Don't get too carried away— s-shit, don't go forgetting what you are now. My cat, you're my pet. And I’m your owner,” his hips stutter a bit, balls slapping against your clit as you mewl, eyes rolling back in your skull.

You can't even retort if you wanted to. Your back is arching all on its own to take him deeper inside, and he's not letting you move, hand pushing hard against your head to keep you still for him. “Ah, Gen, Gen-”

“That's it. Got you right where I want you, fuckin' pet. Boutta make a mess for me again? Say you love me when you do. Fuck, do that again— you know what.”

You think you might be bleeding from how hard you're gripping the sheets, the painful knot building up in your stomach all over again as you approach your high a little too fast for comfort. “C-close again..!”

“Hurry, lemme hear you. You know what I want.” His fingers come to rub at your swollen clit, and his cock pummels against a spot that has you abruptly crying out as you're thrown headfirst into your third orgasm, hot white flooding your vision as you spasm and squeeze around his cock so tightly. “F-gen! I love you— fuck, love you..!” You gasp when he doesn't slow down, tongue lolling out when you feel your cunt gushing, juices squirting all over his hips as he groans loudly.

“Yeah,” his voice sounds borderline feral, “Good fuckin' kitty. What? Want a treat?” and it's almost pathetic how quick you are to start nodding, eyes cock-drunk and lidded as he chases his own high.

“Well you're not getting one. Check the count yet? It's at 18,560. Know what that adds up to?”

How would you know? Your brain is all fuzzy, vision spotted with splotches of white and the words coming out of your mouth aren't even coherent anymore. The only thing in that mind of yours is how good Narumi feels, how his dick reaches the deepest parts inside you..

Feels so good, god— you love him. No one can do it like him.

“Times up,” he snaps, “That's plus one.”

His voice comes out a little breathless from how close he is, and your walls are tight around his length as your high starts to dissipate- suffocatingly tight. “Gonna give you your milk first, get you nice and full and we're gonna start all over again. How's that sound?”

Your whines are incoherent to him, but it doesn't matter. You're just a cat, anyway.

“F-fuck, stay still and take it,” he rasps, and it only takes him a few more thrusts, a few more until he's groaning loudly, cock spurting thick ropes of cum inside your cunt as you gasp underneath him.

A lot.

You're always in disbelief with the sheer amount, how he always fills you up to the brim, hot spurts shooting against your walls as he groans above you, fingers digging deep into your ass as he holds you still, making sure you're taking in every drop.

“Gen,” you choke, “The count...?”

There's an exasperated sigh from narumi before he's pulling out of you, hand coming to flip you over. The sight of you is really something, tear stained cheeks as you sniffle and hiccup, and oh— you look absolutely ruined, those pretty lips all swollen and pouty and the look you're giving him is to die for.

Your pussy is even worse. His cum has already started to seep out, fat droplets dripping straight onto the tail he knows you're so proud of, the one you're always waving so obnoxiously in his face. Now stained with his cum— as it should be. You're his pet, after all.

“Gonna take out the suit,” he says, “Let’s speed this up.”

[squoxle]

Hello can u make smthing like heeseung and Yn having s3x in the movie or smthing?

I wasn't sure if you meant at home or in public, but I chose public bc it's just more fun that way. Who doesn't love a little risky play?

Now or Never ~ L.HS

𐙚pairing: bf!heeseung x gf!reader | 𐙚wc: 500 | 𐙚plot: during a movie date with your boyfriend, you desperately felt the need to be filled, but going home would take too long so it had to be Now or Never... | 𐙚cw:🔞MDNI!! blow job, mutual masturbation, kissing, public sex, insinuated second round

Maybe it was the way he styled his hair today or the cologne he was wearing, but whatever it was made you think nonstop about fucking him.

To be fair, nothing made you happier than feeling your boyfriend inside you.

You didn't care what hole he used, you just wanted to be filled.

A large tub of buttery popcorn sat between Heeseung's legs as the movie played. His eyes were glued to the screen and you couldn't care enough to pay attention to what was happening.

You reached over to place your hand on his thigh, and his eyes jumped at your sudden touch. "Are you okay?" he asked looking over to you.

"I'm so horny right now, babe," you hummed, giving him a little squeeze.

"Right now?!"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"Did you wanna leave now? We can go straight home."

"That'll take to long."

"We can do something in the car if you want."

"I wanna do it right here, right now," you whispered, leaning in to kiss his lips.

"But--"

"Please," you knew how much he loved to hear you beg for him. This was exactly what you needed to do to get what you wanted. "It's now or never..."

You watched as he sat back in his seat, pushing the popcorn forward a bit as he one-handedly unbuttoned his jeans, zipping them down before worming his dick out of his boxers.

He stroked it with one hand as you adjusted your position in the seat next to him. You leaned over the arm of the chair and wrapped your lips around his tip, quietly sucking as he grew in your mouth.

Other than being filled, this was one of your favorite feelings, his dick hardening against your tongue. You felt him throbbing in your mouth as you slowly bobbed your head up and down.

You could hear him taking deep breaths as you sucked him off.

"Hold on," he muttered, readjusting his position. "Put my hoodie over your lap," he said handing you his hoodie. You placed it on his lap as he reached his hand underneath to stimulate your clit through your panties.

You hummed at the warm sensation burning inside of you as he played with your wetness. He slid his fingers between your lips as you went back down on his cock.

He groaned, gripping a handful of your hair as you satisfied him. Though it was becoming increasingly difficult, you somehow managed to contain yourself as he fingered you.

You felt him jerk in your mouth as he yanked his fingers out to shove his dick down your throat. He held you down as he emptied himself in your mouth.

"How about a round two in the car," he whispered in your ear as he leaned over your head resting across his lap.

You didn't say a single word to him, you just gave him that look that told him everything he needed to know.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

[hyperiondickrider]

Baby Bunny~

(Chapter 2)

Vox x Reader; Valentino x Reader; Alastor x Reader; maybe Lucifer x Reader

After your untimely death, Mr Vox was kind enough to take you in and give you a job as his assistant. However, it appears that you’ve caught the eyes of few other demons, who are certainly not afraid of a little competition…

Vox was an angry man. At least, right now he was.

“What the FUCK does that ancient prick think he’s doing, putting his hands on my little assistant?” Yes, Vox was in quite the mood, watching your every step and action through his monitor. Watching Alastor drag you along through public, knowing he could see you both, was simply the most fucking audacious move he has ever made.

“God fucking dammit, I told her not to speak to that old-timey asshole.” Staring at his monitors and muttering profanities, he felt his screen begin glitching and buffering out of severe irritation.

“My, my, Voxxy, I wonder what’s got you so out of sorts, hmm?”

“Shut the fuck up, Val, you fuckin know why I’m pissed.”

“What? You miss the little conejita, hm?”

“Get out of my room, Val. I got work to do.” Through gritted teeth he managed to compose himself, returning his gaze to his monitors, focusing in entirely on you, and your fearful eyes.

The way your bunny ears fluttered when you were thinking. The way you batted your eyelashes in surprise. The way your little button nose twitched when you were upset.

God, it was hard to stay mad at you.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp buzzing of his doorbell, likely signally your arrival. He watched on his screen as Alastor bade you goodbye, planting a soft kiss on your hand, and watched your face darken with a blush at the action.

If he was angry before, now he was fucking seething.

No sooner had you entered the building and greeted the secretary, then Vox harshly grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you up to his office, ignoring your pretty little whimpers and pleas on the way up.

Finally in his office, he slammed the door and locked it before speaking.

“Y’know, dollface, I only had one rule for you here. Don’t fucking speak to Alastor. And y’know what, pretty girl? You just fucking broke it.” The lights in the room start to flicker and glitch as his irritation grows.

“‘M sorry, Mr Vox, b-but he wouldn’t l-leave me alone..” you cower away from his as he approaches you, eyes welling up with tears as your nose begins to run.

His anger stalls as he sees your teary eyes, letting out a sigh and releasing his power.

“C’mere, dollface.” He beckons you over, taking a seat behind his desk. As you approach he grabs you by the hips to sit you snugly on his lap, straddling him, as your face grew brighter.

“Y’know I can’t stay mad at you, babydoll. Just promise me you’ll try to avoid that asshole?”

You whimper affirmatively nuzzling into his chest as he pulled you in for a firm hug, reluctant to let you go.

“Okay, dollface. Run along now, Val wants to see you.”

Satan, was he such a sap for you.

Climbing off his lap you walk towards the door on shaky legs, gently waving him goodbye before closing it behind you.

Adjusting your skirt, you decided to go find Mr Val, to give him your report.

Wandering through the building, you finally found a staircase, and climbed up a few flights to reach the porn studios, where Valentino could usually be found. Growing increasingly uncomfortable with the amount of naked people and lube in the environment, you began to get rather desperate.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Mr Val?” You timidly asked the nearest actor.

“Uh, yeah, he’s in studio 6 right now, but be careful pretty girl. He’s in a mood right now.”

Hurriedly thanking the actor, you rushed off to studio 6 eager to speak to Val and leave the porn studios as quickly as possible.

“Goddammit, kitty! Why are these putas so fucking incompetent!” The sound of glass breaking indicated Mr Val’s presence, the actor’s observation of his poor mood being dead on.

“Well, if it isn’t the little asistente~ Any news for me, bonita conejita?”

And as always, his piss poor mood could be fixed in an instant by the presence of a pretty little thing. Feeling better already, he pulled you into his lap on his couch, your back against his much larger torso, as he began picking through strands of your hair, humming softly to himself.

“I-i found Angie, Mr Val. H-he’s stayin at the princess’s hotel in the center of town. I-I know you’re sad he’s not stayin with us anymore, b-but I think this could mean his work will improve, s-since he has more space ‘n all..” you trail off, embarrassed at your rambling, while Valentino simply chuckles at your naïve attempt to protect Angel from him.

He turns you around on his lap, blowing pink smoke into your face, making you cough gently.

“Such a kind little bunny, hmm? Trying to protect Angel Dust from the big bad moth man, yes? You really are una conejito estúpida, but such a cute one~”

He grabs your jaw forcing you to look him in the eyes, your skirt riding up as he forces you to lean forward, hands on his chest to brace yourself.

“I could make you a star, bebé bonita~ how’d you like that, everyone would know your face. And pussy I suppose.. no, I think I’d rather keep you all to myself, conejita.~”

He pulls you ever closer to pat your head and rub your ears, knowing just how much you love the attention.

“Hmm, you better go now, bebé. I got films to direct.” With a grin, he’s shoved you off his lap leaving you in a shaky heap on the floor. You carefully hoist yourself off the floor, deciding to head home for the day, all whiny and teary from how worked up everyone’s got you today. Oh well, hopefully Vox will take care of you later.

A/N: I love writing Val so much omg it’s so fun he’s such an ass

Tags: @whocaresimnothere

[liveontelevision]

Sweet Radio Demon Alastor x Reader

As promised, here she is -

It's inspired by Living Tombstone's song Alastor's Game!

CW: Reader is a cannibal and it's a p big part of the story so mentions and details of cannibalistic intent and murder

♡♡♡

Some people just don't belong in Hell. The structure of divine judgment must be rigged, punishing any poor soul who commits sin without realizing it. Those individuals don't belong.

Then there are those who do. Those who realize there's an afterlife and instantly come to terms with their placement. That's when all the Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell for this jokes start to bite back.

It's always easier for those who choose to be sinners to adapt to Hell's settings. The job market for porn stars and actors is extensive, and protection is almost guaranteed despite the souls owed or deals made.

But, what interested you the most, you depraved sinner you, was the loveliness of Cannibal Town. Not only was it the nicest part of Pentagram City, but you felt right at home considering your appetite when you were living.

It was immense. Some kind of craving that you could never satisfy, no matter how many callers you invited into your home and how many of them never left. You got creative, playing with recipes, spices, and cooking methods, but it was never, never, enough.

Sometimes, you'd wonder how you got to this point. You were a normal enough kid, went to school, had a nuclear home life, and you were comfortable financially, the works.

You remember it feeling like a stomach ache.

A stomach ache that brought you to tears and kept you from school some days. You almost assumed it was something every child went through until you learned what subdued the pain.

Meat.

It was the solution. You ate like a carnivore at first, then the food became increasingly rare as you aged up. Until you stumbled upon some strange forums online (There's something online for everyone, I suppose). You gave in to the cryptid suggestions. You tried rodents at first, only after thorough mental and food preparation, but fuck did it do the job. It made your body shutter and your mind hazy, momentarily melting any thoughts of guilt you might still have.

As time went on, you grew hungrier. Animals weren't cutting it.. but maybe he could.

You found him online, chatted for a while over some messenger, then discovered how much of a dirtbag he truly was. That seemed to disarm you from the whole idea.

Poor thing.

Maybe if he was kind enough, he would have been spared.

You invited him over.

As you watch him approach your door, you tussle your hair, and adjust your clothes that leave little to the imagination. With a continuous, you can do this, you can do this, you're drawn to the knocking of the door.

"Damn, babe, if I knew you actually looked like this, I would've come over sooner." He props his arm on the doorframe as he speaks.

Is.. is that supposed to be a compliment?

Your eye only twitches a bit before you cover your expression with a cute giggle. Holding your hands behind your back, you lean forward.

"Not too bad yourself, big guy. How's a movie sound?"

One thing leads to another, you're seated on your couch, and his hands are immediately on you. For someone who acts so big and tough, his touch is awkward and uncomfortable. Like he doesn't know what he's doing.. probably because he doesn't know what he's doing.

The inexperience helps.

You didn't take into account how large he was. Assuming this would go as planned, you'd be set for weeks, but the actual action of getting him down still worries you.

You're barely an hour into the movie, which you can hardly remember, before his sloppy lips are on yours, which you respond to with a grimace. He doesn't seem to take into account your reactions, grunting against your very unresponsive lips.

Disgusting.

Pig.

He places a large hand on your waist, pulling you roughly to him.

Strong.

Muscular.

You need more. You need to evaluate your prey. You place your hand on his wrist, delicately running your fingers up the entirety of his forearm, tracing and digging into each vein and muscle you can find. That continues up to his chest. Before long, you find yourself straddling him, his wide hips forcing your legs apart a decent amount. Despite his build, his composure clearly shows he's nearly at your mercy. While you're running your hands along his body continuously, occasionally kissing him or letting out fake moans to his ear, you're feeling his ever-growing length pressing into your leg.

You'd be disgusted by the sensation if you weren't planning your next move internally.

You hid weapons everywhere. If you remember correctly, there should be a knife sitting in the crevice between the couch’s armrest and the side table. You just have to reach -

"Take this off." You command with a breathy voice, tugging at his t-shirt that had some unknown stain on it. You almost regret putting so much effort into your appearance.

Oh, well. You're taking notes in the back of your mind for any future endeavors.

You guide his desperate hands to pull the shirt over his head. In one movement, you drop the shirt and take the hidden knife into your hand. You hadn't realized until just now, but -

You're shaking.

You let out a deep breath. With your arms reaching over the arm of the couch, you're essentially caging him in. Nothing looks suspicious yet. Not to him, at least.

You lean in to give him one final kiss. You aren't exactly sure why. It's not doing anything for you. Maybe some sort of sympathy is crossing your mind?

… You'll have to work on that.

You pull away slowly, giving yourself time to examine the state he's in. His eyes are glazed over, his breath shallow.

Now.

Do it now.

You're ready. You've studied anatomy, disarmed yourself to the idea, and prepared for the worst.

You have to do it now.

You straighten your back, the knife now visible to him. He doesn't seem to notice at first until your arms are in the air, hoping to find some momentum in the stab. With your eyes still open, you find the spot where it should end this without too much pain for either party. You dive as fast as you can, but you made a fatal error.

You shut your eyes.

The moment was immediately silenced by the tension of his hand fisting the blade of the knife. He caught it. He stopped it just before it could pierce his chest, only bleeding from his palm. You both sit silently, in disbelief, perhaps.

A silent curse slips from your lips, and that seems to snap him back to this failure of a hook-up.

"You fucking psychopath!" He screeches. He stands, effectively throwing you off his lap as he does so. The action forces a small yelp out of you, and your grip on the knife is immediately taken from you. You stare up at him from the ground.

The tables seem to have turned. He's looking down at you, stumbling and struggling to find his grounding, all the while holding the knife. Despite this, despite his large build and his newfound advantage, he bolts for the door.

Was this better than him attacking you? Will he go to the police? You almost hope he's fragile enough to not admit he was attacked by a frail creature, or that he'll use this as a story to brag to his friends over, I escaped a psycho bitch last night.

You start cursing again. They become more frantic and louder as you follow him out. You watch him stumble off your patio and back to his car. You manage to find reality when a previous thought hits you.

You hid weapons everywhere.

A shotgun sits by your front door. It wasn't the most hidden, but in your defense, it was dark enough outside that it went unnoticed. And you're in a rural enough area that some wouldn't bat an eye at the sight of it.

With shaky hands, you pick it up, already loaded, and aim it at him. He's already in the driver's seat, but you're too exposed to let him just drive off at this point.

You didn't really know much about guns. But in an emergency such as this, it seemed like it would come in handy. So when you took your shot, you never considered the consequences of shooting bullets at a running car, especially with your poor aim.

You come to moments later, fire and pieces of metal surround you. You try to take in your surroundings, but your ears are ringing, and your senses are overwhelmed by the severe burns covering most of your body. You manage to find your home, still mostly intact. The car, on the other hand, is completely decimated.

In the corner of your eye, you think you can spot some resemblance of your date sprawled along the asphalt. With a heavy breath, which you consider might be your last, you let your head drop onto the pavement.

-

"My my, what a predicament you've got yourself into!"

A voice?

It echoes through your head. You can still only see the crackling of the fire surrounding you, and your ears still ring, but the voice seems clear as day. There's a bit of a static to it, but still it's clearnes startles you. You attempt to respond through the pain.

"W-Who-"

"Save your strength, my dear. I'll be quick since it seems you won't be with us much longer." The voice says. You can hear footsteps, a clear clicking of heels that echo in this ethereal space you find yourself. You struggle to lift your head, only catching a glimpse of the stranger kneeling in front of you.

"I'll clean up this little mess of yours, and we can discuss my repayment once you're in less of a.. scorched state. Deal?"

How could you consider the consequences? Or even comprehend his words while you’re like this? You aren't sure what he means, and you have no time to question. Your consciousness seems to be honing in on the burns.

You let out a horrific scream, clutching your arms, only intensifies the pain. If you could see the stranger, you'd see a disturbingly unphased smile.

"Help me - H-Help me! Please!" You beg and cry out, finally reaching out your hand to him.

"So? Do we have a deal?"

"Deal - Deal! Fuck- I-It hurts..!" You sob, biting your blood-dampened lip to prevent any more screams.

He takes your hand, gripping onto the raw skin of your burns. Your next scream comes out silently. You feel your vision blur before your body finally comes to terms with its seemingly sealed fate.

-

You shoot up from your bed, your face running with tears. They feel cool, running down your heated cheeks. You quickly wipe your face, leaving a wet smudge of makeup and sweat across your fingers.

Right.. make-up from the date.

You scan your bed, no man in sight. It’s a relief to wake up in your bed alone. Shifting out from under the covers, you look to your hands, waving them in front of your eyes and running your hands across your own skin.

Smooth.

Maybe even softer than you remember previously.

Some sort of calming amenity seems to be sweeping over your body. With glazed eyes, you examine your body that should be severely burned, yet you feel nothing.

Still, in a state of shock, you rise and wrap yourself in your blanket before leaving your bedroom looking a mess. You roam your home, looking around with still-damp eyes. You feel like a tourist. Like none of this is yours.

Not anymore.

You find yourself standing by your front door, opening it without hesitation. It's a clear sunny day. The grass is just as green, if not greener, and there were flowers there that you don't recall ever planting.

Suddenly, your bare feet against the heated pavement sends a slight panic through you, as the more gruesome details of the previous night conjured in your mind.

That's why nothing looks right. You were sure your porch was blackened by the fire. The grass was a flame, and there was a car - and that man and the voice -

You approach where his car was parked, only to find a torn-up strip of rubber, assumingly from its tire.

"What the.." unable to even complete a thought, a familiar voice only brings up more questions.

"Ah, my apologies! I assure you it is quite out of character for me to miss a spot." You see a disturbingly tall figure come from behind, swooping down to pick up the rubber scrap. He examines it within his red talons, turning it back and forth. You stand dumbfounded, but he goes on anyway.

"So, what exactly caused your date to ..implode? Was he not to your liking? Too handsy? Too-"

...

You're too tired for this.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, turning on your heels and letting the blanket drag across the rugged pavement behind you as you head back inside. You almost expect some sort of resistance from him, a qwip on how rude it is to walk off in the middle of a conversation, but there is none. Maybe you just imagined that little interaction. Maybe there wasn't really anyone there, and you're still tired or still sleeping.

You open the door, and that same bright smile greets you from inside your own home.

That seems to wake you up.

Your wide eyes scan his face, then peek inside your home behind him. You turn back around to see where he previously was, and obviously there's no sign of his travels. You slowly turn back.

"May I speak now?" His voice is laced with a radio filter, and it hits your ears in the strangest way. The reality of the situation turns your exhaustion into apprehension, yet you nod your head anyway.

"I may have caught you in the midst of your disarray, but I must admit, I'm curious about what led to it." He steps aside and gestures for you to come inside. To your own house.

"H-He got the upper hand is all." You decide not to comment, moving inside sluggishly. As far as you know, this strange being has no idea of the sins you've committed. You quickly fib.

"He attacked me, actually."

"Oh, how devastating!" He lets out a saddened sigh, a hand over his heart with fake sympathy. "Now, was that before or after you attempted to drive a knife through his chest?"

With a defeated groan, you flop onto the couch.

"What are you? A sleep paralysis demon? A.. nightmare? Am I still asleep?" You grumble, running the possibilities out loud and not expecting a true answer. You actually hoped that it would all go away. That this voice in your head, this hallucination, is just that.

In your head.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that.. A nightmare~ has a nice ring to it wouldn't you say?" He stands in front of you, his hands folded formally behind his back.

"Now. Enough with the compliments. What truly happened, my dear?” When his voice suddenly turns sympathetic, you find yourself actually in need of someone to vent to.

“Well, since you're clearly just a nightmare - or.. something - ” You sit up, take in a deep breath, and with its release, you reveal yourself.

All of you.

Every single animal you've killed to curb your pain, what seems to work and what doesn't, and the previous nights failure. You talk about the number of friends and family you've scared off throughout the years, everything.

“I.. was gonna eat.. him…” You squeak out your final sentence. You've never really said it out loud before. And never in front of someone else. It made your own blood run cold. Not the thought of the act itself, but just sharing it aloud. your eyes stay fixed on your fidgeting hands in your lap when a loud cackle interrupts your anxiousness.

“My word, aren’t you just the cutest basket case? You're lucky to be dealing with a demon of similar tastes.” He hisses his final words, all with a sly smile. He sounds prideful in his admission. His words seem like they're meant to disarm you, and even though he essentially admitted to being a cannibalistic demon, it works.

“Well.. since we have sooo much in common-” Your voice drags, the notion of being similar to this demon feeling strange to mention out loud, “-would you.. help me? With all this..?”

Expecting another laugh, maybe some more teasing, you're met with a confusing expression. His smile is still there, unmoving, but you catch the smallest twinkle in his eye. He stands and faces away. The hope of finding an outlet for your cannibalistic intent starts to dwindle.

Your misplaced disappointment is overtaken by the flickering of lights and the soft tunes of a radio nearby, one that you recognized but were sure had been broken for decades. He turns his head unnaturally, looking over his shoulder to meet you with blackened eyes.

“I would be absolutely delighted.”

-

“Lucky for you, some of your late-night delivery seemed to withstand the flames!”

You follow that transatlantic accent to your kitchen, unamused by his continuous puns and casual speech. This big scary demon friend of yours presents a commically large plate, with a very familiar carcass sitting atop.

He did nothing to make it look any less disturbing than it truly was. the skin was nearly burned off, the smell was just awful, and the shirt was somehow still recognizable through it all.

You cover your mouth in response. The fact that it doesn't smell much different than some of the other carnivorous meals you’ve prepared nauseates you more than the sight of the corpse itself.

“Quite a specimen, very good choice! But, you needed tips, correct?”

All you can think of to respond is a simple nod of your head.

“Then let's get started!” With a snap of his clawed fingers, a sleek black apron covers his suit.

The next few hours were grueling, but.. fun? If you're allowed to call it that. You were given multiple pointers, and sure, they were all quite helpful, but they were in excruciating detail. What certain parts of the body you should pick or avoid was one thing, but discussing what wine pairs with what organs? It's not a conversation you ever thought you'd have.

By the time the meal looks normal, all decorated with spices in a baking pan and in the oven, you instinctively go to do dishes. As you fill the sink and start bringing things over, a little creature has you nearly tripping. You look down, seeing a strange little stitched doll carrying most of the dishes to the sink. No matter how strange it looked, you respond with a curious hum, fully desensitized to it at this point.

“Huh..” is all you can say. You take any remaining dishes and follow suit, plopping it all into the water. The little doll seems to be tugging at your leg when you try to walk off. It's holding its arms up to you, letting out little murmurs that sound restrained by the stitches across its mouth. You hesitate at first, but scoop it up in your arms and place it aside the sink. And it gets to work scrubbing away.

“Damn, you're cute, and you clean? Can I keep you?” You ask it quietly, giving it a quick pat on the head. It seems to smile.

“Quite a delightful little thing, one of my better creations, I must admit.” The response from him seems to scare the poor thing straight. It immediately lowers its head and focuses on cleaning. You scoff at the interaction between the two. if his own toy is scared of him, should you be as well? “That being said, I simply can not part with it. My apologies.”

“Oh, I was kidding. Mostly.” You reply quietly. You hear the first chuckle from him that seems genuine. No ill intent, just a joyous response to your little quip. It felt kinda.. Nice.

-

“So, Mr. Scary Demon Man-” You clear your throat before you speak. “-why are you here, exactly? did I do something to summon you? Or-” He cocks his head to the side at the title, a little twitch to his eye.

“Not at all, my dear. I simply wanted to help you in your little endeavors, from one cannibal to another, Haha!” His tone goes back to that of a salesman. Like he’s trying to convince you he’s something he’s not.

“Well.. thank you, I guess. I don't really understand why you’d want to help me without wanting something in return, though. You don't seem like-”

“-A charitable man? I suppose that’s fair.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “If you’re so desperate to return the favor, why don’t we strike a deal? Just a little one. Between friends.”

You weren’t stupid. His words made it clear that this was his intention from the moment he chose to save your life. You shrunk a bit.

“Sure, between friends.” You let out a sigh, your somewhat chipper attitude immediately fading. He takes no time to be empathetic.

“Good! Now, you seem to have an eye for food. This meal was ideal considering your poor execution.” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling. “And you can’t get meals quite like this where I’m from. How about you keep providing, with my assistance, and I’ll make sure it’s prepared to the best of my abilities. In exchange for all my hard and generous work, I get half the spoils! Seems far more favorable on your end, but I’m feeling rather generous today.”

Where he’s from? You want to question it. You want to know more about him, you want to know -

“What’s your name?” Your sudden questioning leaves him speechless for a moment, but he’s quick to recover his charming smile. “You never told me.”

“Well, considering you won’t need my name if you don’t agree to this little game, how about I throw that in as well? You provide the living flesh, and I’ll handle the rest. And, you’ll get my name.” He stands before you, a bit too close for your comfort, as he reaches his hand out to you. “Call it a deal?”

An ominous green glow surrounds the two of you. It sends some kind of wind through your clothes and hair. His hand is especially bright, and his eyes go back to that frightening black that you experienced previously.

At the end of the day, if this is what you have to do to stifle those damned pains, it doesn't seem all that bad. You extend your hand, instinctively flinching at the seemingly impending danger. But that still doesn't stop you.

“O-Okay.. Deal.” With the touch of his palm against yours, the glow flashes, forcing your body to tense and your eyes to squeeze shut. It only lasts for a moment, though. When you open your eyes, you first examine your connected hands. His hand is huge compared to yours. From this proximity, you can truly take in how unnaturally tall he is.

Attempting to tug your hand back, his grip tightens, forcing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss to your knuckles. An outdated and surprisingly intimate action leaves you a bit flustered.

“My name is Alastor. It’s been a pleasure, my dear~”

-

And so, your transactional deal went on, right until your demise. You used a similar tactic to bring more meals to your doorstep, finding a handful of poor saps online. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant when he offered his assistance, but when the time came, a strength took over your body that you never experienced before. There were no more shaky hands or sympathy. Your aim was always true, and it was just so easy. Any impending dangers or possible retaliations were alerted to you by a subtle whisper, a voice, coming from just behind you. It was startling at first, but quickly became a comfort.

When it came to preparing the food, which Alastor said he’d handle, you’d essentially leave your victim's remains in the kitchen and would come back to a meal ready for the oven. Sometimes, you’d leave the body as is, limp on the couch, or sprawled on the floor, only when you were too exhausted to deal with the clean-up. On nights like that, you’d wake up to a completed meal the next morning. You liked to picture him going through your home, rolling up his sleeves and wearing that apron, cleaning things up, and cooking in your kitchen how he did that first night.

That being said, you didn't normally see his physical form. There was the lent strength and whispers during your hunts, but other than that, contact seemed to nearly cease. Why was that upsetting you? You cursed yourself for being too much of a romantic - for making this seem like anything more than a delusion you conjured up to make this whole action easier for you.

And that pain? That constant hunger that was never sufficed nearly went away. In fact, you’ve never felt fuller.

He did return on especially rare occasions. You never complained, and you attempted to hide your excitement when you'd catch him lurking in the corner of your eye.

Sometimes, it was to cook for you again. Despite the deal being in full swing, you would ask him to show you some of the recipes. Normally, it would just appear, looking delicious and homemade as always, yet you still pestered him to show you how to prepare some things. He always acted burdened by it, but seeing him cooking felt.. Domestic. Like, when he was cooking, he was truly in his element. It made it easy to forget what he was, which you found yourself questioning less and less. It simply didn't matter anymore.

One particular visit was late into the night. He actually woke you up from the racket, which had never happened before. Stumbling out of your bed, expecting to see police raiding your home or something worse, you’re instead met with a swaying radio demon and a shattered vase. Whenever he was around, soft music would play from your busted radio, a contrasting notion to the fumbling man in front of you now.

“Alastor?” You call out, a wave of relief hitting you and bringing the baseball bat from your hands to the floor. “What the hell are you doing? It’s like.. three in the morning..” The realization of the time makes the previous adrenaline seep out of you.

“Ha-ha! Isn’t that an interesting concept? The Devil’s Hour. Throw some religious implications, and it drives people mad! In reality, it’s just when your feeble body is at its most vulnerable.” He rambles on, spilling the drink from his bottle as he exaggerates his actions. He walks to you as he goes on, his body still swaying. “When your little fragile human heart reaches its lowest speed. When waking you would cause.. distress.” He goes on, his words suddenly sounding melancholic.

“Your breathing is erratic.” He adds, staring intensely at your heaving chest. “And you are hot to the touch-” The back of his claws trace the apple of your cheek, where even you can feel the heat radiating from your skin. Because his voice has no filter. You’ve never heard it like that before. You’ve never heard him sound so human.

His hand traces down your face to press against your chest. He’s feeling your heart. And it’s beating erratically.

“Your heart is fast. Are you distressed?” He leans in closer, to the point where you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Do I make you distressed?”

In a flustered panic, you push him away. His closeness, his touch, it all threw you off guard.

“N-no, I’m just tired. You woke me up in the middle of the night, asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest, watching him laugh and struggle to find his bearings after being shoved. With a groan, you pull him by his slender arm over to the couch. He sits down with a thud, and you sit a careful distance next to him.

“That is what is so refreshing about you, my dear.” He lets out a dreamy sigh, and you pull the whiskey from his hand before he can break anything else. “Why - you have no idea who you’re dealing with, I could be a powerful demon overlord,” He slurs his words. “But, to you, I’m just your sweet radio demon~” He sings out.

Alastor leans into you, uncharacteristically tapping your nose. You swat his hand away, forcing another loud chuckle from him. He stays leaning forward, even seated beside you, he towers over you. Your wide eyes meet his.

“Even your eyes show no sign of fear. How curious.” You stay like this a little longer. His breath still reeks of expensive whiskey, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes from him. You’re terribly focused on keeping your distance, but he doesn't seem to have the same concern.

With a sly smile, he removes his coat and flips to his back, laying his head in your lap. With his long legs crossed over each other and hanging very much off the couch, you’re almost nervous to touch him. He wasn’t especially touchy, only doing so when necessary; fingers brushing against fingers, a hand on the shoulder for a mere second- why can you remember each moment so vividly? Why is it so fresh in your mind?

“Alastor, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home? or.. wherever you are when you're not here?” That’s still something you’ve questioned. You weren’t one to pester him so insistently, wery on losing the good thing you have going on.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure! Be careful with your alcohol, my dear! Ha-haa!” He slurs out with a grin. “I suppose.. I prefer to be here.”

“What? Why? If you’re some powerful overlord, don’t you have somewhere better to be getting sloshed?” You scoff, keeping your eyes away from his head that was still perched comfortably in your lap. He seems to even nuzzle into your thighs a bit, and it only flushes you more. You take an unpermitted swig of his confiscated drink.

“Hm! Well, I can’t exactly get meat this fresh in Hell-” He taps his chin in thought to your rhetorical question that clearly went right over his head. “-besides! It’s not nearly as nice without you.” He sounds so matter of fact, so sure of his words. You hold your breath, suddenly reliving every moment together before this.

You’d chat and joke around in the kitchen, but you’ve really learned more about him than you thought. How he sews together those strange little creatures. And he seems so proud of them, despite their clear fear of his presence. You noticed he always puts some sort of spice in the meals he cooks, and that even if it's too much, you eat it anyway. How he simply hates getting dirty despite his occupation. He rolls up his sleeves, has that dumb apron, and uses those little toys of his to keep clean.

You loved it.

You’ve done nothing but enjoy every moment with him. You don’t need to know what he is to know that.

Wait, did he say Hell?

“You’re from Hell? There’s a Hell??” With a more shocked exclamation than feared, you finally look down at him. He’s too far gone, humming along to the music, he barely hears your questions. With a clearly defeated sigh, you brush his hair from his face. He winces from the action, his smile wavering but not breaking under your touch.

“Ah, I wish I knew how you survive this cozy little life.” His voice is quiet and mumbled.

You.

I can live this way because of you.

He manages to finish off the bottle with one more swig - when did he take that back?

Your thoughts begin to wander, absent-mindedly twirling strands of hair through your fingers, raking your fingers down his scalp, only to startle yourself with the sensation of animalistic ears. And they’re twitching. Whether it be your reaction or his, it seems to force a little yelp from you, so you reel your hand away.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you, darling.. Could you - or.. You can.. Continue. If you’d like.” His voice had dropped that strange filter again. You feel woozy. That whiskey you had shared, maybe it was strong. Or.. it was the middle of the night, you were sure you were just tired. You spiraled to come up with any reasonable excuse other than developing feelings for a Hellbound demon. You wonder if you-

Oh, you’re definitely going to Hell.

But, could it be something to look forward to?

Your intimate thoughts cloud your mind, leaving your hand mindlessly petting a literal demon. Your fingers combed through his hair, delicately clawing up the ears and pinching the softness at the tip of each one. Despite your thorough and elaborate massage, your mind has wandered to how a relationship with a possible hallucination of a demon would work out. But that's ridiculous, isn’t it?

“Alastor, can I ask you-” your words are brought to a halt and your eyes drop. A quiet hum of satisfaction, leaving a barely conscious radio demon, who’s head still sat in your lap. With a curse under your breath you decide you're trapped.

There was absolutely no chance of escape. What, were you supposed to wake him? What if you upset a powerful overlord demon, or whatever he claimed to be? Albeit uncomfortable, you force yourself to sleep. Enjoy it while you can, who knows if it's even real?

You didn't see him for awhile after that.

-

Alastor was a poinient man. He never missed a pick up before. So when you realized the meat you've portioned off for him was still sitting in your fridge, you start to worry. You're not exactly sure why, you’ve pushed any and every intimate thought from your mind.

This is purely transactional.

Even though his portion had gone untouched for a few days.. A few weeks, if you really think about it, you already had a date set with another victim.

It went on as usual. A dumb hunk of meat thinks he’s all that until you’re straddling him. You decide to stick to what you know works; a knife to the heart.

You mapped exactly where to plant it, as he fiddles with your top, and with a raised arm, you go to claim your next victim.

There was no warning.

There was supposed to be a warning.

The next thing you know, you're pinned to the floor, your wrist being gripped so tightly you have no other option than to scream and lose your grip on the knife.

Your date took no time. No hesitation.

The last thing you see is the opposing view. A stranger straddling your body with a knife held high above his head.

It seems so quiet.

And it's awful.

Where was the warning?

If anything, you should've at least heard Alastor's voice telling you how to avoid this. You always do. A slight pang of worry hits you, but it's quickly overtaken by anger.

With a final yelp that's fueled with frustration, hurt, and a broken heart, you met your demise quickly and alone.

By the time you've come to, you're surrounded by a handful of black eyed children. You immediately scramble backward, hitting your back against a brick wall. You’d notice your surroundings if these little scavengers werent eyeing you with an innocent curioustity. You let out a hiss, holding a hand over your eye. A streak of blackened blood comes from it, your palm thoroughly stained with it.

“You must be new~”

“You’re very handsome!”

“How did you die?”

A bombard of tiny voices and questions go straight over your head, a ringing in your ears forcing your mind to go hazy.

“Alright, give ‘em some space, kids!” A sweet voice seems to bring you back. You look down to your seated body. Your skin is a deathly gray, and your top is stained with your own blood. It’s still red. “Don’t overwhelm the poor thing, I’m sure they’re quite shaken!”

Your eyes then trace up the silhouette of a vintage looking entourage, then to a sharp-toothed smile. The woman stands before you, a hand held out to you.

Her eyes are just as black and her skin is just as pale as those children that now whisper and giggle to eachother nearby.

It didn’t take you long to realize your misfortune.

You died.

You’re upset sure, but you find that you’re mostly angry. None of this wouldve happened if you- if he-

“Come on, cutie! Let’s get you cleaned up.” Her considerate smile clears your mind almost immediately. You don’t hesitate accepting her assistance.

-

“He was supposed to help me. He said he would be there for me! I died because of him..!”

A strained smile and a quick nod is the only response you get to your angered rambling. The kind face that scooped you off the streets was Rosie, one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, who just so happens to own most the souls in Cannibal town.

Lucky you.

She did exactly as she said, having her fun and playing a bit of dress up with you. It wasn't exactly your style, but there were more concerning things when it came to your appearance. Your eyes were just as black as Rosie’s. As those children who have been following you around.. In fact, most residents of cannibal town had this feature.

You really are in Hell.

Right where you belong.

Right along side people who are just like you. It almost felt.. Comfortable.

You confided in her, going on and on about some jerk of a demon who broke a promise that cost you your life. How he had been helping you in fights, saved your life a number of times, taught you how to cook, showed up drunk to simply sit in your lap, then just fucking disapeared when you needed him most. Your face was turning red, from anger or the way you gushed about him, Rosie couldn’t quite decipher.

What wasn’t comfortable was the period clothing you were put in. But according to Rosie, it’s Perfect! What a doll!

“Is Alastor. The radio demon?” She completes your sentence with a sigh, standing to tower over you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, hun, but no one’s seen him in quite a while.. If i’m being entirely honest with you, he’s a dear friend of mine.” You instantly tense at her words. You just went on a rant about how shitty he was, only to find out he’s disapeared with no explanation. Maybe it was a good reason. A good enough reason to leverage your own life? You aren’t sure.

“I have to find him!” You finally say, as if a lightbulb switched in your head. He seemed so unattainable all these years, but now? You’re in his house. “Miss Rosie! Can you help me? His name-”

“I can’t say he didn’t wrong you, but he’s a man of his word, hun.. If he’s not holding up his promises, then he might be in some real trouble.. ” You hear her voice crack, yet she doesn't let her smile drop.

Another factor to consider that Alastor might have bitten more than he can chew, yet she still sympathises with you. You nearly knock the wind out of her with your arms encircling her small waist. Your head rests just at her chest. You can’t see her face, but her arms are around you almost instantly.

-

As you got settled in town, you did actually use the skills that Alastor had taught you throughout your lifetime. You understood why he made your previous deal. Demon flesh was just fine, but you really needed to spice it up to be anything special. And even then, it still couldn't compare to fresh, living, meat.

You started off just making and baking your own food. Then, when one cannibalistic child asked to try some, they told their friends, who told others.

After a while, you were cooking for half the town. You had a line every morning out of your own home. Once Rosie took notice, it was time for you to make a deal.

“Why can’t I sign a contract with you? You’ve done so much for me, I trust you with my soul.” You had taken Rosie out for dinner, where you planned to discuss a potential deal. Even with you barely being in Hell for a year, you heard plenty about Extermination Day, contracts, dealing in souls, all of it. You did your research. You talked to some of the townsfolks and saw no real downside in giving your soul away. Your proposal seems to surprise her, though.

“You still have your soul? Didn’t you make a deal with Alastor?” She asks, quieting her voice when she says his name, as if just the sound of it would make you upset. It only makes your eye twitch, though, just at the thought of the whole ordeal.

“I did, but he didn't say anything about my soul.. Was he.. Supposed to take it?” You question.

“Well.. he’s made deals like that before, favors for favors, right?” You nod. “But to go all the way to Earth just for some food? That’s.. Not like him…” Rosie seems to be lost in thought, trying to piece together his intentions. You clear your throat, and attempt to calmly bring her back. You slide a tupperware container of lady fingers you had made just before this.

“I want a restaurant, Rosie. I’ve been keeping an eye on that abandoned shop in the town square. I can feed everyone in town if you’ll let me. And.. protection, of course. Would that work?”

She opens the box with a sparkle in her black eyes, almost immediately popping one of the delicate treats to her lips. With a hum of satisfaction and a snap of her fingers, the glowing golden paper floats in front of your eyes.

“It’s a deal, darling!”

-

You could barely call it a restaurant at first, but you were elated. Rosie granted you some extra hands to make deliveries and assist in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be going your way. Your first extermination day went by quickly. For some reason, angels weren’t destroying everything in town. And you and your little shop were both safe, untouched, really.

You had a steady job, loving customers, and a residency near the center of town. You were almost surprised how having a shared interest, in eating human flesh, can bring people together. And after just a few years, you had a community.

You had a family.

Something you never really though you’d have, in life or death; A home.

Things were going so well. This was supposed to be your happy ending. It had been a few years since you had signed the contract, and you still feel satisfied with your decision. You could really be yourself here.

In Cannibal Town.

In Hell.

It made you laugh sometimes, how much joy the underworld brought you.

On a say that seemed like any other, you had sold out your stock for the day early, and went on to send the rest of yout employees home, when you heard a ruckus near the gazebo.

The screech of a microphone, and a very distant agitated Susan, is all you can truly hear from where you are. You drop everything to join the crowd.

It was the princess of Hell.. You weren’t one to keep up with politics or media, there was no need for you. You entertained yourself plenty just by residing in town. But, you managed to hear her blow up before being dragged away. A tall, rugged figure takes their place, ready to entertain the crowd while the Princess gathered herself.

“Come one, come all! While our little princess is collecting herself, who would appreciate a quick song, hm?”

“There is no fucking way..” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Alastor.

He holds his hand up to his ear, waiting patiently for the adoring crowd to praise his presence before he went on. You knew Rosie was a friend of his, he was a cannibal afterall, but for the entire town to love him just as much? Including Susan?

It’s absurd.

He went on to perform some showtune, one that sounded familiar to you. The crowd excitedly surrounds the pavilion, dragging you nearly to the front. You held a look of disgust. A look of betrayal.

You didnt want to see him, you told yourself. Things were perfect as is, you felt no need to repair a relationship with your imaginary friend you conjured up while alive.

Although, you never thought you had to. He had been gone for years, he nearly became just a passing thought.

An unreasonable part of you stayed put. A part of you wants him to see you and recognize you, to remember what he had forgotten. You stood with your arms crossed, your heart beating rapidly just at the sight of him.

He looks entirely the same, completely unphased. You’ve changed so much visually, and you’re happier now. Bolder. You’re not shying down now.

He catches your eyes.

The music screeches to a halt, sounding like a record player needle dragging across the disc. You’re holding back a smile, almost proud that you were able to stop him in his tracks. This had to be the first time he’s thought of you in over seven years.

And stops singing.

Lucky for him, the princess is finally ready to make her own point. You stick around, not exactly paying attention to her lyrics. You keep your face of disdain strong, stepping away and flinching at any advance Alastor would make to reel in the crowd. He seems to distract himself just fine until Charlie whisks away the crowd. Again, you're firmly planted in your spot.

Alastor turns to you, much more apparent of who he’s dealing with now that you stand alone from the crowd. His ears are flat against his head, and his smile is turned at the corners. His eyes seem to dart back and forth as if he’s deciding whether or not to stay. To be with you.

Oh, he’s nervous.

You’ve never seen him nervous before. It feels good. You’re making the almighty Radio Demon nervous. You smile just slightly. But not a smile between old friends, but a smile in response to his realization that he fucked up.

Despite your delay, Alastor continues on with the rest of the parade. Your body immediately lost all tension once he leaves.

-

“Well, well! I knew I recognized that menu. I was ready to tear apart some poor sinner for using my recipes.” A familiar, antagonizing voice echoes throughout your little empty shop.

You turn on your heels, almost startled by the sudden intrusion.

Almost.

But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping for it.

Just a little.

Of course, he'd come back. Maybe to make another lowly deal. Or to get you to do more menial tasks for him, to flaunt his power and authority.

“Yeah, well.. when you've been left for dead, and all you have is your skills, you do what you have to, to survive.” You snap, turning your back to him to continue wiping off an already spotless counter. “Plus, it never hurts to marginalize.”

“I've actually tried some of your food here.. Hm! And I hadn't the slightest idea who prepared such a meal. You've gotten better, I'll give you that! Such a small world.” He says with a nostalgic sigh. You can hear his heels clicking throughout the empty store, circling the room before eventually approaching you.

How can he speak to you like you were still.. aquitanced?

“I hope whatever kept you busy these seven years was worth my life.” You mutter. You weren't sure if you wanted him to hear that or not. Maybe if he did, he'd finally apologize or-

“Oh, it was! A nice little sabbatical is exactly what I needed.” You quickly turn to see him polishing his claws against his coat and smiling quite brightly. “I will say it is a pleasure to be meeting you here! I'm glad you settled in so easily.”

“You killed me, Alastor! You were supposed to keep me safe.. and now I'm dead! Because you disappeared without a word!” You start to scold him, finally hitting a breaking point. All he does is scoff at you.

“Oh please, I didn't even take your soul. And it's not like you'd end up anywhere else if you were to perish later on.” He speaks so casually about it all.

But, you were ready to cry. To kick and scream at his arrogance.

The feeling of sharp fingers engulfing your shoulders leaves you suddenly tense and puts your murderous thoughts on hold. He's vanished from in front of you and now looms over you, his eyes meeting yours from over your shoulder.

“Plus, you seem to be quite happy here! Why don't we just call it even then, hm?”

He can not be serious.

You pull away from him, the tears welling in your eyes finally letting loose.

“Alastor, stop!” You yelp, turning to face him. “That’s.. so unfair! You broke a promise! And you-” you hold your finger out to scold him even more, but you feel your body simply going slack. “-you hurt me.. I just.. thought that after all that time, after that night, you'd care a little more..” You look up to him, in the hopes of being met with some sort of sympathy. But his unnatural smile goes unwavering. You rub your arm awkwardly, losing your confidence as your words turn more vulnerable without your realizing.

“Oh, I can feel your pain, not to worry dear. I truly meant no harm when I couldn't hold up my end of the deal.” He's smiling and drawing out his words, only setting off a sense of unease within you. You finally let out a shaky sigh.

“With everything you've done for me.. I thought that.. you might've liked being around me…” You let out, your voice running slightly ragged from the previous shouts. “I thought we were having a good time! Then after all this?” You grow an uncertain smile.

A previous sight that made you giddy before only brings you dread now. His ears are flat, his eyes struggle to meet yours. He's losing his composure.

“I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted it to happen.” You laugh through your words, your hands raking through your hair in a stressed manner. In your little pits of passion, you don't get the chance to see his wavering smile, the grimace on his face, any of it. When your words are met with silence, though, that's when you finally look up to him.

He's nervous, again.

“Oh.. my-” your sentence barely starts before he attempts to cover his slip up.

“Now let's calm down, I really didn't mean for- I didn't intend-”

“Isn’t there rules to this? Were you ever allowed to meddle with my life in the first place - let alone - be on Earth??”

“-God! You killed me on purpose?? Just so I could come down here to do your bitch work?” You snap, your laugh becomes delirious and your tears betray the anger you're meant to be showing.

He’s scrambling for a witty reply, his expression finally showing his true intentions for the first time in a long while. He’s speechless.

“I’m such an idiot.. Of course, you never cared. Bastard.” You mumble your words to the room, losing any fear of him hearing your insults.

Your vulnerability sends a strange shiver down his spine. One he’s never felt before, one that makes his chest ache and his muscles tense.

“Well - Now, let's just talk for a moment before you-” Alastor extends his hand out to your turned back, but it never reaches you. A delicate grip takes his wrist, bringing him to a full stop. He stops, unnaturally snapping his neck to see who would dare disrupt the Radio Demon himself.

His ears flatten against his head, and with a sudden disbelief in what he’s seeing, his eyes return to their normal crimson.

Rosie towers over his hunched form, her eyes stern.

♡♡♡

“Al, sweetheart, you gotta go. You're disturbing my client.”

I love when Alastor fucks up and found out

THIS IS A TWO PARTER I PROMISE

Tag list:

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee / @0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @the-maladaptive-daydreamers / @str4wberry-t00th-anon / @voxrei / @raythegay )

[scorpioriesling]

Invisible String - Part 2

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): light angst if you squint. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You paced back and forth awkwardly around your room, not sure what to do with your time. Normally, you'd give Riley a bath and see her off to bed -- but not tonight. Her father had come home during dinner today, and you almost couldn't believe your eyes when he'd materialized before the both of you in the dining room.

Gods, you'd never seen her so excited to see him come home in all the time you'd known the two. She truly missed him when he was gone, just waiting to see her dad come home at the end of the day. You understood; to be honest, you worried some nights when he would be gone late, always apologizing like his timing was the end of the world. He failed to realize that it was his safe return you were more concerned with.

You paused, shrieks of laughter heard from the opposite end of the Wing and you smiled to yourself. Padding over to your open doorway, you peeked your head out, listening as Eris' faint voice spoke with his daughter, saying something that had her giggling once more before you heard the distinct sound of her door latching shut. You retreated back into your room, trying to find anything to busy yourself as the sound of his shoes drew nearer toward your room.

"Could I offer any help with the last of those?" Eris asks, leaning casually against the doorframe as he gestures toward the stack of heavy boxes piled in the corner of your room. You turn, crossing your arms and then uncrossing them, not quite finding a comfortable position.

"Um... well, I could probably get them, tomorrow." You shrug, biting on your lower lip. Eris' eyes study your face for a long moment before he chuckles, walking over to the pile and pushing up his sleeves with such grace. He lifts the top box, his arms flexing under the weight as he adjusts his grip under the edges.

You try, really, really hard not to stare.

"I'll leave these outside to be picked up in the morning, unless you needed them to be kept for something?" He asks, and you all but shake your head before he heads out of your room, leaving you in awe. You shake your head, get it together. That is your boss, for Gods sakes. You take a deep breath, pushing your hair behind your ears before reaching for the next highest box, barely reaching the upper rim before its contents nearly spill over on top of you.

"Cauldron damned-" your curse is cut off when the box doesn't completely dump out on to you, but is caught haphazardly between your hands and one of Eris'. His other one is wrapped around your waist, preventing your impending collision with the floor.

"Woah! Woah," he says, his voice much closer than you expected and you open your eyes you'd inadvertently squeezed shut. He loomed over you, holding you so close to his chest that you sucked in a breath, your eyes widening when they met his peering down at you.

"I'm..." you made to stand, and he lifted the cardboard from your hands. "I thought I could help with that one." You said sheepishly. He chuckled, glancing sidelong at you.

"Always trying to do everything," he muttered. "Honestly, I'm just surprised to hear Y/N actually say a bad word out loud."

You set your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow and ignoring his teasing remark.

"This is my mess, anyhow. I was just trying to help."

He turns, heading for the door once more.

"Allow me to help you for once, hm?" He says, winking and walking out. You roll your eyes, irritated at how warm your cheeks feel. You flit about the room, putting random smaller items away and folding a few articles of clothing as Eris makes the last few trips. When he comes back in for the final time, he sits on the edge of your bed with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You look to him, noticing his exhaustion from the day again. "Thank you," you say, and he looks to you again. He offers you a small smile, leaning back on his hands.

"For all that you've done, helping you move a few boxes is incomparable." Your lips curve upward as you place a few more of your skirts inside the drawers of the dresser, averting his eye. After a few shared moments of quiet, he speaks again.

"This room... its... I'm glad someone is using it again." He says, his hand running softly over the duvet. You glance at him, his fallen expression puzzling as you go about tidying up.

"Oh?"

He's quiet again before he looks at you. "I used to avoid coming in here, after... well, after Selene left." He says quietly, and you pause. The air feels thick, you try to keep breathing evenly as your mind races.

"She... the two of you didn't share...?"

"No." He whispers, looking at the floor. "She thought only mates should share a room."

You shoved the drawer closed, walking slowly to the bedside and sitting next to him.

"I'm sure this is common knowledge by now, but our marriage was simply a transaction, a sign of goodwill between our courts." He let out a humorless laugh. "No magic, golden thread there."

For everything he'd done for his court, all the battles he'd won, every fight he'd fought and all he'd witnessed... this was a subject he rarely discussed, as it seemed tomdrag him down the most.

"Eris..." You said softly, reaching out a hand timidly and placing it on his arm. He braced lightly against the touch, and you leaned closer. "I'm so sorry that you were treated that way-"

He sniffed, his hand rubbing along his jaw quickly before he stood, your outstretched hand slowly retracting with the distance between you two.

"It's alright. Nothing for you to worry about, anyway." He flashed a humorless half-smile, and you stared up at him with concern. You could tell it was a tough subject for him, and you definately didn't want to pry; but he didn't exactly have many other people to open up to.

"Well... alright then." You say defeatedly. He nods, turning and heading for the door. He looks over his shoulder only once more before closing the door behind him.

"Sleep well, Y/N."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Apple juice, please?" Riley asks, and you pour her a fresh glass, delivering it to her awaiting hand. She sips quietly, then blinks a few times when you sit down beside her. "Oh -- thanks!" She smiles.

You nod, silently praising her good mannered habits. You could still remember when you arrived at the Forest House, the little spitfire was ordering people around at the ripe age of three. "Give this!" and "Do that!" was all she managed, and though her heart was pure, you did encourage better etiquitte; luckily, it stuck.

"Daddy said he have a surprise," she swung her legs under the table, some of her juice swishing in her cup. You raised an eyebrow.

"Did he, now?" You weren't sure what she was talking about, or if there really was a surprise at all. Eris had made haste this morning, rushing past you this morning on his way out the door. He'd barely kissed his daughter goodbye before he was on his horse and halfway to the border-

"He did! He said he had one." She insisted, and you nodded in understanding. What it could be, you had no clue.

"Well, lets finish our dinner so we're ready when he gets home, yes?" You suggest, and Riley agrees, jamming the last of her chicken nuggets into her mouth and chewing with maximum effort. You shake your head, smiling at just how normal the girl was. You were just glad she found joy in chicken nuggets still, and didn't request challenging dishes every meal quite yet.

Insisting on wearing her fluffy pink footie pajamas, Rylie then sat in your lap on the couch, her stuffed beagle clutched in her hands as you brushed out her wet-clean locks.

"Braid it pretty?" She asks, and you leaned in, kissing the top of her little head. She grinned, holding her little beagle's head to her lips and kissing it's head just the same.

"Anything for you, Riles," you say, getting to work on the long strawberry strands. She sits very patiently for a four year old; that is, until you've secured the band at the end of your work and the front door creaks open.

"Daddy!" She's up in an instant, running to the door with glee and clinging to her father's leg the moment she spots him. You stay seated a moment longer, listening from the living area but not quite ready to see Eris yet. After the tense conversation last night, you couldn't help but feel... awkward, after the conversation.

After a few minutes, Riley has retreated to the living room looking rather dejected. Your brows knit as she stalks toward you, her beagle hanging limply from her fingers.

"Daddy says bedtime. You take me please?" She says, looking down at the floor. You frown, your hands lifting under her arms as she wraps her legs around your waist.

"Of course sweetie," you try to sound upbeat, but she only lays her head on your shoulder. You pet her head, wrapping your other hand around her to keep her propped up against your waist as you make your way to her end of the Wing. You look around as you go, not seeing any sign of Eris on your way. He literally just got home, what the Hell could he possibly have to do right now?

Once you reach her room, you place her gently atop her plush duvet, her eyes half closed when her head touches the pillow. You pull a loose blanket over her legs, knowing sometimes she gets cold at night, and kiss her little cheek one last time before moving toward the door.

"Y/N," she whispers. Your eyes meet hers in the dim light, your fingers stalling as they reach for the glowing tableside lamp.

"Yes dear?"

"Can you please read? Please?" Her bottom lip trembles. "D-daddy always reads... he reads my book..." she sucks in a breath of air, and you rush over to her bed, taking her little hand in yours.

"Yes, of course honey!" You say, hoping she will feel better. "I would love to read you a story," you look left and right, searching for any tomes near her bed. She lifts a limp hand, her finger pointing to the book resting at the opposite end of her bed.

"You'd like that one? The Kissing Hand?" She nods, one tear slipping free and running down her cheek. You hastily grab the book, and she scoots over, making a space for you to lay beside her. You scoot close, reaching an arm around her and she snuggles close as you flip open the book. Her little fingers wipe her tear from her cheek, and you begin to read.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren't sure when you'd drifted off, but when you slipped back into consciousness, your back ached from its cramped position on the small bed. You looked around, the darkened room coming into view as well as the peacefully sleeping babe next to you.

You must have fallen asleep reading to her, you thought. Surely you'd left the lamp on though; its glow would come in handy now as you tried to slip silently out of her embrace, sneaking out in absolute darkness. At least the door was still cracked open.

You'd stumbled around quietly enough and made it down the hallway to the kitchen, the clock on the wall coming into view.

Four in the morning. Gods.

You kept walking, feeling along the walls until you found your bedroom door, and let yourself inside.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You woke up that morning to the delicious smell of cinnamon and sugar, the comfort of your plush bed surrounding you as the first light of day drifted through your curtains. You yawned, stretching out your arms and slowly opening your eyes.

Ahh, what a lovely morning.

Morning. The sun was out.

You threw the covers off of you hastily, your bare feet hitting the cold wood floors in a rush as you lunged for your door handle. Riley was surely awake by now, and surely starving. You bounded down the hallway, your steps faltering when you heard her familiar ramblings from the kitchen and registered the smell of food wafting through the air.

As you approached, you watched in pure shock as Eris stood over the kitchen island, his hand holding his daughters as he helped her spread icing over a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, smiling and talking along with her. He hadn't noticed you walk in; but she sure did.

"Y/N! Finally! You're awake!" She squealed happily, and you forced a smile, still confused by the scene before you. Eris looked up then, his eyes meeting yours only briefly before he went back to the treats he was making.

"Good morning Riley," you said hesitantly, stepping closer toward the island. Eris' eyes flicked up again, snagging on the silk pajamas you'd changed into before collapsing onto your bed last night. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Good morning. Eris." You said, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Morning Y/N." He said plainly before turning to Riley, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the ground.

"Bunny, why don't you set the table," he handed her the silverware and a few plates. "And we'll join you in just a few minutes?" She nods, skipping into the dining room, as Eris braces his hands against the countertop, his eyes locked on yours once more.

You stare back, shrugging when you can't understand the point of standing in silence. "What?" You ask. He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for the... discussion. We had. The other night, it was... highly, unprofessional." He nodded, looking down at the pan of cinnamon rolls once more. You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh erupting from your lips and causing him to flick his gaze to you again.

"What is funny?" He asks, seeming a bit taken aback.

"Nothing, no," you say, smiling softly at him. "I just... Eris, I live in your home. I spend every day with your daughter. I think we're beyond professional, aren't we?" You say. He cocks his head to the side, a small smirk curving the side of his lips.

"I suppose we are, then."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Daddy. These cimanim rolls. Are. Delicious!" Riley grins with delight, Eris' expression a mirror of his daughter sitting next to him at the table. You watch the two and your heart swells; one day, you could only dream of having something so special as that.

"Why, thank you Princess!" Eris says, and she holds her chin high. You shake your head at her, and Eris' eyes meet yours, his face giving away exactly what he's thinking. After a few more quiet moments, he speaks up again.

"Bunny, I wanted to ask you about doing something fun today," he says, and Riley immediately perks up.

"Fun?" She asks, and he nods.

"In the Town Square, there is the Autumn Festival, and it would make me very happy as your daddy if you would go with me-"

"Yesss!" She shrieks, every single one of her teeth showing as she smiles in excitement. You can't help but feel so happy for her -- she deserves time with her father, and he's finally home to spend it with her, doing something she had been longing to do anyway.

"Ohmygosh I can't wait! I will wear my Princess dress so everyone knows I am a Princess, okay," she explains hastily, only pausing to take a sip from her glass of milk.

Eris nods, looking to you. "I figured you may appreciate at least a day off as well," he adds quietly, and you offer him a gentle smile. Truly, you didn't need one, but you appreciated his consideration all the same. Riley doesn't quite catch the incinuation, though.

"Y/N, you have to wear a dress. You can't borrow from me this time because you're too big," she says, hopping from her chair. "You have a dress?" She asks. Your eyes meet her dad's and his mouth opens to answer first.

"Bunny," he starts. "I don't think Y/N was going to come today," he explains. Rileys brows knit in confusion as she looks at him.

"Why not?"

"Well," he says, trying to tread lightly. "Maybe Y/N has other things she would like to do today. It's okay though; just me and you can go." He says, but Riley looks to you, her eyes looking you up and down.

"What... what else do you want to do though?" She says, and you chuckle.

"Riley, honey, today you can go have fun with your daddy, alright? Me and you play here everyday," You reason with her. She doesn't let up, and Eris studies you from across the table.

"Daddy -- can Y/N just come too?" Riley says. You sigh, looking to Eris for help, but he only stares quietly at you, a small smile on his lips.

"I really will just stay here-"

"Yes." Eris says, and you meet his eyes, Riley spinning in happy little circles at the end of the table. "Y/N can absolutely come with us today."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[wordsbyrian]

Ma’am do you write for Leila Ouahabi? A writer posted a bunch of old requests she won’t be writing and this one caught my eye: (Leila uses R as a shield everytime ESPWNT teammates scare her)

A/N: Look I wrote a thing after *checks watch* ... actually lets not talk about how long its been.

If there is one thing you’re certain of in life, it’s that your girlfriend is a massive scaredy cat.

As tough as she may appear to people who don’t know her very well (especially when it comes to her antics on the field), you and all of your national team teammates know that the slightest noise or sudden movement can make her jump out of her skin.

And since everyone knows this, they all make it their job at camp to scare her at every possible movement.

In the past, you had been completely fine with this but recently Leila has taken to using you as a shield against all of your teammates' attacks.

The first time it happened, you had no choice but to be shocked.

The two of you had been walking down the hall after training when Mapi jumped out at you from an alcove.

Leila’s hand, which had been loosely wrapped around your waist immediately tightens, but instead of pulling you behind her like you thought she would, you get tugged against her chest as she crouches down behind you and hides her face in your back.

This leaves you staring blankly at Mapi who can barely hold herself up she’s laughing so hard.

Sighing deeply, you loosen Leila’s grip on your body and turn to face her.

“Seriously?”

You watch for a few seconds as Leila stutters and stumbles her words, Mapi still laughing behind you.

“Seriously,” you say again.

“Mi amor,” your girlfriend tries, reaching out for your hand, only for you to take a step back while glaring at her.

“Idiotas.”

You glare at her one more time before turning and leaving the two best friends standing there.

Of course, word of what happened spreads quickly through the team, which means that you find yourself in the position of a human shield with increasing frequency.

Which, in turn, means that Leila finds herself on the receiving end of your glare with that same frequency.

Your teammates all take any and every opportunity to scare your girlfriend into the dog house.

Even Alexia has gotten in on the action, quietly walking up behind the defender and scaring her so badly that the older woman leaps into your arms.

Rolling your eyes, you adjust your grip on her to hold her more securely and continue walking back to Leila’s hotel room. Tossing nothing but a simple ‘bye Ale’ over your shoulder on your way.

In its own twisted way, your non-reactions become a challenge to your teammates in it’s own right.

As time passes and more camps come and go, they come up with new and increasingly outrageous ways to try and get a rise out of you.

Most of them fail.

Ona is the one with the best attempt. It’s probably because she knows that both you and Leila have a soft spot for her.

It happens one morning at breakfast, near the end of camp, just as you point out to Leila that the younger woman she’d claimed as her cousin hasn’t been seen yet.

Just as you finish saying, Leila begins freaking out saying that something touched her leg.

Rolling your eyes, you lean over to check under the tablecloth to reassure your girlfriend that there’s nothing down there but you don’t do much other than look at your feet before sitting back up.

Unfortunately, Leila continues, to insist that something is touching her leg. So much so that you reach down and move her legs so that their resting on your lap.

Breakfast continues mostly in peace after that…

…until you feel something grab your leg.

The first few times it happens, you just shake it away and continue eating.

But eventually, it wraps itself fully around your ankle.

Naturally, this startles you. So in a surprising display of coordination, you pull Leila into your lap while pushing away from the table at the same time.

There’s also a very impressive string of curse words that you let out.In the middle of your tirade, you spot Ona crawling out from under the table.

“Joder. Hijo de la gran puta.”

Clearly, you are causing a scene and drawing the attention of all your teammates and the coaching staff but you can’t really find it in you to care. Especially not with the way both Leila and Ona are laughing so hard their faces are turning red.

Rolling your eyes at the pair of clowns, you stand up (letting your girlfriend drop to the ground) and begin to walk away.

Stopping just before you reach the door, you turn around and look back at Leila and Ona, who are now leaning on each other trying to catch their breath.

“Alright I’ve let everyone have their fun,” you say, “but we all remember what happened the last time I joined in on a prank war.”

And with that, you walk out of the room, trying not to laugh at the sound of multiple people scrambling to chase after you.

[ghostyeyestohide]

Space & Time

(I Put A Spell On You Part 2)

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC) x Junior (Foe) x Hen (Foe)

Warnings: Buildup (if you got the attention span of a squirrel, DONT READ), some bisexuality (from m and admission from f), caught kissing (bxb), panic attack, masturbation (m), moaning (m), tension, cussing, drinking, emotions, jealousy, angst, mentioning of climate change, and Non-Canon.

Summary: Valerie and Terrance go to Junior and Hen’s for two nights, where tension builds up between the quartet, specifically Junior and Valerie.

Parts: Part One • Part Three

A/N: This was supposed to be the one where the threesome happens. But as I was writing this, I realize this is gonna be way too long for it to be one part, hence why I ended up turning this from being a three part series to a four part now. I think I made the best decision as this is like perfect development in my mind (and showing more of my style), so I hope you guys enjoy this one!

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

Valerie adjusts the top of her blue milkmaid dress as the self driving car, carrying her and Terrance, wearing a matching color suit, drives down this empty road.

Surrounded by puddles and dirt, the climate had gotten increasingly worse over the years, the whole forest in the area died due to deforestation, leaving most towns baring it all in the worsing weather every year.

“Do we have to spend two nights? We’re only an hour away.” she asked, looking at him, who was working on his laptop.

“It’s mandatory since he’ll be home in 96 hours. It’s only just to wind him down so we’re prepared to shut him off.” he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“And how is she handling it?” she asked, looking down the pan of rosemary-vanilla frosted honey pound cake she’s carrying in her lap.

“Not well. She’s still not understanding, but is accepting it slowly.”

“….how are you holding up?”

“……I had better days.” he sighed, trying to not let his emotions out.

She touches his thigh, gently rubbing it. He places his right hand on top of hers, squeezing it.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I won’t say something you wouldn’t want to hear.”

He looks at her, giving her a small smile before bring her hand to place a kiss on it.

“I’m fine. I swear. It’s…..still brewing. But I think I’ve calm down a bit. He seems even more annoyed with me constantly taking notes and pictures, but I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh, I would know. I was so confused when you were doing that as her memories were being uploaded slowly into my head.” she says, chuckling as he rubbed her hand against his face.

“She was like that when we started the preparation for the trip too. Hated the scans, made sure I was noting what she believed was worth including, self conscious about how you were gonna come out…..” he replied, trailing off with the last word.

Terrance lets go of Valerie’s hand, turning his head back to his laptop. She looks ahead, placing her hand back on the pan, thinking if she made a mistake by mentioning her. He doesn’t get emotional about the accident anymore like he used to, but it’s still a soft spot since that was his wife he lost.

“Can you promise me something, Val?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“….depends on what is it.” she replied, looking at him again.

“Its nothing I would put you through. Unless you want to be.” he said, looking at her.

“I thought I can call the shots when you say that?”

He laughs before kissing her softly, grabbing her face in the process. She responds with kissing him back for a few seconds before pulling herself back.

“As much as I would like to take this to the next level, I don’t wanna drop this cake I worked hard on.” she said, lifting it slightly.

“Mmhm. But seriously: don’t reveal your true self to any of them when I’m not around. Its best to keep it private so they don’t freak out or try to do something that might have consequences for all of us. And watch what you say too. Understand?”

Valerie nods in agreement. He gently pushes a few strands of her hair out of her face as he shut his laptop, placing it in his suitcase.

“So where are we moving to now?” she asks.

“That is up in the air as I have requested if we stayed here permanently.” he replied, grabbing one of her hands and holding it in his lap.

“What? Why? We always traveled to the next one when the assignment is done.”

“You seem to enjoy living here more than the previous locations we were at.”

“How would you know? You were only with me a few times since we moved here.”

“Always remember that one of the things I do great at my job is taking notes. And since we’ve been living here, I noticed you feel more calmer, enjoying the quietness and darkness a lot. I mean, you do sit on the porch and crochet as you watch the stars bloom. I never hear you complain about being overheated, uncomfortable, squished in…I see everything, even when I’m focused on work.” he said, tracing his fingers over her hand.

“But you still have to travel to your next assignment. After you said you would never leave me alone out here ever.”

He smiled, making her look at him in a confused way.

“Except, I’m hoping I won’t be doing that much longer. See, OuterMore’s slogan always mention going to space to improve the future. While I do enjoy helping our customers with having a replica taking care of their spouse while the other is in space for two years, I want to move up in the company as I feel I have outgrown this.”

“Like what? Being a board member? CEO?”

“No, no.” he chucked. “A lab analyst. I’ll be looking at tests, data, new files, old files, watching them make the replicas, disabling the old ones, just to name a few.”

“So. Somewhat similar to what you do now, but you’re at the main headquarters?”

“No. I would be at the regional headquarters that’s on the opposite side of the airport we came in at. Which is a two hour drive, meaning I won’t be gone all day or too far from you, my love.” he said, rubbing her face.

Valerie smiled, blushing at the thoughts of them possibly settling down instead of worrying about where they’re going next.

“Hm. I like the sound of that.” she responded with, nudging her face on his shoulder.

“That’s why you have to hope they’ll approve it. I think they will with how much data I provided them with over these last few years. But, like I said about hiding your true self, keep this between us as well.”

“Understood.” she said, nodding slightly.

The couple sat in silence, caressing each other hands as the car turns on a road.

“We will be arriving to your destination in about five minutes.” said the voice of the car, starling Valerie.

“You have got to get use to the car.”

“Hush. I don’t ride in this usually!”

Terrance laughs as he rubs her hip, glaring out of the window as they get closer to Junior and Hen’s.

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A few minutes later, the car pulls into the driveway of a house on farm, with a man working on it, moving hay around. As it got closer, the man’s visibility becomes clearer, revealing him as Junior, who automatically gets annoyed as he looks at the car. Dressed in a white shirt, blue jeans, and brown boots, he drops the batch of hey from his hands, slowly walks over to them.

“He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.” said Valerie as she looked at him.

“On cue as soon as he sees me.” said Terrance.

The car parks in front of the porch, turning itself off before unlocking the door and lifting it up. Terrance steps out first, sending a smile towards Junior before helping Valerie get out, fixing the bottom of her dress.

Soft stomps are heard before the front door swings open. Out comes a young, blond haired woman in a peach button top, a brownish plaid long skirt, and brown knee high boots. She looks at them with an emotionless stare, as if they are trespassing and should leave.

“Good to see you again, Junior and Hen.” said Terrance, gently pulling Valerie close to him.

“We don’t have a choice at this point, do we?” says Junior as he stands next to Hen. Terrance chuckles, nodding at the question.

“Patience is key. We still got a long way to go before you depart for your trip.”

“Well, you and your company hasn’t made it easy for us at all. Just different things every time you show up.” said Hen, looking at him.

“He’s just doing his job with getting everything that’s needed for the replica. He understands that you two are very upset about his selection to go to space and how you feel like you don’t have enough time before he goes, but at the end of the day, this is just his job’s requirements and probably wants to get this done faster so he can be out of your hair.” said Valerie, who is now visibly irritated.

Junior looks at her with curiosity as Hen gives her the death stare, making Val feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Oh, where are my manners! Junior and Hen, this is Valerie. My beautiful wife that I have mentioned quite a few times. She’ll be staying here as well as we do a couple more tests, if you don’t mind.” said Terrance, doing a ‘showing her off’ gesture, with Valerie smiling a little.

Hen nods as she looks at Junior, who is still looking at Valerie with curiosity in his face.

“Luckily, the room is big enough for the both of you and your things, so I don’t mind.” said Hen, forcing a smile.

“Excuse me?” asked Valerie.

“Not like that. I meant if you bought a bunch of suitcases for your things……or some random boxes from your husband’s job.” she said, shooting a look at Terrance.

“If it makes you feel any better, she only brought two.” said Terrance as he turned to take out her suitcases and his.

“As long as she’s not doing random tests or taking notes while watching me do anything, I don’t care.” said Junior.

“Makes you uncomfortable?” asked Valerie.

“A little. I tend to lose focus in whatever I’m doing.”

“….makes sense. You fit it well.”

Junior stares at her, slightly turning red, as Hen shoots her a look while Terrance stares at her in confusion.

“And what is that supposed to mean, Valerie?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just an observation. Tend to take after Terrance sometimes. A natural habit.” said Valerie, staring at Junior.

Terrance lets out a ‘hm’ sound before grabbing the suitcases and walking towards the door.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he said as he walks up the stairs.

The rest followed behind, with Hen running over to open the door and held it for Terrance and Valerie as they walked in, with Hen and Junior following.

After Terrance places their suitcases in their room, he comes back downstairs to the living room, where he takes a seat next to Valerie as Hen sat in one of the chairs while Junior stands, pacing back and forth.

“So. Do you often spend the night or…nights at his assignment’s house?” asked Hen.

“When I was first accompanying him, yes. But, I guess after he completed enough assignments, they started paying for any place we wanted to live at as he worked. That’s been our routine ever since. But, this is also my first time doing this again.” said Valerie as she looked at Terrance, who smiles back at her.

“So….are you in a different city when he accepts a new assignment after he completes the previous or you two move immediately?” asked Junior, who now takes a seat in the other chair.

“The latter. It’s important that the partner/spouse of the agent stays with them as they wait for the two years to go by, examining whatever’s going on up there close by at home.”

“OuterMore takes it seriously. They too can feel when our workers might feel lonely as they travel.” said Terrance.

“Hm. They understand that, but doesn’t seem anything wrong with randomly selecting people to get put on a rocket ship and sent to space as a replica operates their daily lives as if they’re the actual person.” said Junior, looking at Terrance.

“Junior.” Hen whispered.

“What? It’s not like I’m lying cause it’s not fucking normal and he acts like it is!” he said as he stands up, very heated.

Valerie thought ‘hothead’ to herself, noticing a common trait she sees in Terrance’s subjects when talking about this.

“It’s for a better future for the planet. You seen the videos, my explanation, and the many success stories that came out of it. I say it’s very normal as the government approves it.” said Terrance, watching him pace back and forth.

“And you’re fine with what he’s doing? Coming in the middle of the night, telling strangers they been selected to space, disappearing for a while, and then suddenly returns, saying “we need to your measurements, memories, looks, what time you eat, how you shit, how you eat for your replica” constantly? Then when it’s all over, you move onto the next? That’s normal for you, Valerie? Your agent husband rolling into strangers’ house with a deal of a lifetime as you sit home, being oblivious?” he said, standing a few feet from the couple.

Valerie looks at him with a glare in her, processing what he just said to her.

“Junior, that’s enough! That is not how we welcome guests into our home!” said Hen as she got up, staring very anger at him.

“She’s not a guest. Just someone who follows everything he tells her to do.”

Valerie chuckles quietly, trying to find the right words to say without making this moment even worse.

“That is not how you talk to a wo…” Terrance attempts to get up to confront him, but she pulls him down, signaling him to not doing anything that might get him in trouble.

“You know…..I knew it was going to be you, and I mean specifically you, that was going to utter that.” she said, looking at Junior.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You think everything is perfectly fine here, but don’t realize the people you love are suffering around you. But I’m the oblivious one here?”

“Because everything is fine. I’m fine. Hen’s fine. The house is fine. All of this here? Definitely not.”

“Hen is definitely not fine. You just ignored her pleading to stop. In fact, you ignore everything she wants because you think being home and away from downtown is what makes life worth living.” she said as she stands up, placing the cake on the table.

“Valerie, baby, don’t.” mumbles Terrance as he tries to pull her down, but she snatches her arm.

“Oh, so we’re telling secret information to people that shouldn’t be knowing, Terrance? I thought you valued that.” said Junior as he stepped closer, but Hen pushes him back, mumbling “Stop!”.

“He does because he didn’t tell me. The notes on the file did. At least he knows how to value something instead of blowing it off for their own needs.”

“Valerie….” said Terrance, looking at her.

“Oh, so now it’s my own needs?” asks Junior.

“Yeah. Your own needs since you can’t please Hen’s.” says Valerie.

“Please stop.” said Hen, looking at her. Valerie shakes her head before gently moving Hen out of the way to stand in front of Junior.

“No, cause what we’re not gonna do here is let Junior walk all over you, me, and him because he hasn’t found his happiness yet. Which is why he’s very angry, dismissive about everything, and if anything, too possessive. So tell me. What are you hiding behind this tough guy persona, Junior?” she says as she gets in Junior’s face.

Junior looks her up and down, before glancing at Terrance, who sends a glare back at him. Junior leans near her ear, lowering his voice.

“You know he’s been spending a lot of time with my wife, right? Secret meetings, going in town for something, helping her out. You don’t find that worrying? Your husband being around another woman that’s not you?” he whispers.

Valerie looks back at Terrance, who is slowly getting angry and stands up.

“….I’m not dumb and I think you know that. If anything, you should be very cautious with your behavior because I know everything that she doesn’t know. Mentally, physically, and sexually. Especially that night.” she whispers back, glaring at him.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Is that a threat? Or is this your way of getting something you want from him?” she asks in her normal voice.

“Why you little….” he says, getting even more close to her.

Hen and Terrance look at each other before getting between the both of them, separating them. Junior reacts by flipping the chair and storming out, starling Hen. Terrance shakes his head before looking at Valerie, who looks down in an impertinent way.

“I told you to watch your mouth.” he says.

“Nothing gets better if you let someone like him walk over you.”

“He’s just uncomfortable.” said Hen.

“Well, he needs to grow up and be a man.”

“That’s just how he is!” she said, now extremely pissed.

“Oh well. This will all be over soon anyway. Oh, and I made this cake for you guys, if you give a damn.” said Valerie as she picks up the pan and carries it to the kitchen.

“Val!” said Terrance.

“Gee, thanks. That will go well with whatever we’re eating after I go grocery shopping as soon as I find Junior!” she yelled, storming out the house.

Valerie rolls her eyes before placing the pan on the counter. Suddenly, she feels a painful sensation from her stomach, causing her to fall on her knees and clenching it as she lets out a painful groan. Terrance rushes over, kneeling down to lift her up.

“Where does it hurt at?! Locate it to me!” he says.

She grabs his hand and places it over her stomach, breathing harshly. The area has a warm feeling that kept rising until it went away, along with the sensation. He stares in confusion, looking up at her, who now had an uneasy expression on her face.

“Seems like you were overheating a bit, but it went away.” he said, rubbing his hand over to check other areas.

“I probably need to rest. My tab is still half full, so I’ll be fine until tomorrow night.” she mumbled, slowly becoming tired.

“I’ll carry you to the room. But I might be gone by the time you wake up. Get some rest, sweetheart…” he says, watching her fall asleep in his arms before carrying her up the stairs.

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A few hours later, Valerie wakes up, breathing hoarsely. She sits up, looks around the low sun setted room, realizing that this is their bedroom. She turns to her nightstand, which has a glass of water, a pill, and a note, written by Terrance, that says:

“Take this when you wake up. It should calm down the shocks and whatever else is aching. Me and Junior went in town to do the grocery shopping for Hen and find something to eat for dinner since it will be little too late to cook. Behave yourself while I’m gone.

- T. “

She smiles, shaking her head at the last part before placing the pill in her mouth and washing it down with the water. She gets up, stretching herself out, before walking towards the window. She looks at the empty ground, with some puddles sparking from the blueish-purple sunset.

She thought about how peaceful it is out here. Not having to hear loud traffic, feeling overstimulated by people moving around, arguing, having sex, loud music overflowing your sounds. Just simply doing anything you like without having to worry about anything.

Walking out with her book, ‘Parable of the Sower’ by Octavia E. Butler, to indulge in the view of the growing night sky, she sees Hen lying on a massive branch, looking out in the distance. She calmly walks up, waves at her before taking a seat about a few feet away on the stump.

There’s silence between the two women for a few minutes before Hen looks down at her, watching her read quietly.

“What are you reading?” she asked, making her break out of her focus.

“Parable of the Sower. It tells a fictional story of a girl growing up in her poor stricken gated community as the world is going to chaos during the 2020s Los Angeles. She wrote this about 30 years before it actually happened, and before our time. Basically predicting it.” said Valerie as she showed the book to her in a better view.

“Like what?”

“Well. Climate change, the economic crisis, social inequality, inflation, escape from forced slavery, useless government, the collapse of cities by its citizens. Just to name the important details. Ms. Butler unfortunately didn’t live long enough to see it actually happen.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of predictions to get right.”

“Yeah. He got this for me when we were staying in Los Angeles for his assignment at the time. Said I would like it since I tend to read books like this. And he wasn’t wrong.” she says, smiling a little. It was one of her favorite things about him: getting her things he knows she would like.

“Were you downtown?”

“Not really. We stayed Hidden Hills. His assignment lived on Mulholland Drive, so he wasn’t too far from me.”

“Must be hard being alone all day.”

“Oh, that depends on where we’re at. I sometimes visit historic places on my own, go to the grocery store, shopping sometimes, or just drive around. With his awareness, of course.”

“He’s not bothered with you doing that?”

Valerie makes a confused face before looking Hen, who is still laying down.

“No. Terrance encourages me to explore the areas we’re around instead of waiting for him. If I’m comfortable with doing that. And then, he wants to hear about it or see it, incase I bought something, when he comes home because he doesn’t like being the only one explaining what he did today.”

“…..and what do you do for a living?” she asks as she sits up, keeping her eyes on her.

“Stay-at-home wife. I read, I crochet, I cook sometimes, bake a lot, clean if the place is messy, relax, listen to music on our vinyl player, and sleep in if I’m too lazy to do anything.”

Hen stares at her, at a loss for words with the information she gave her. Valerie, in her head, is thinking “wow, he’s keeping her locked up and she’s letting him for his love”, about to continue reading her book before she heard her laugh.

“Something funny, Hen?” she asks, looking at her again.

“That sounds like you’re using him. And he’s falling for it.” Hen replies slyly.

“Excuse me?”

“You do anything you want as long as he’s okay with it while he works? He wants to hear about your day so he’s not the only one talking? Showing him stuff you bought and he doesn’t get upset?”

“Why would he be upset if I told him what I did and he’s aware? He likes hearing me talk about anything even if I didn’t do nothing and if I have concerns or I’m not happy, he wants to hear it so he can reassure me or find a solution. Not just give up.”

“Oh, I find that very hard to believe he would be doing all of that for you.” she scoffs, looking away.

Valerie looked at her in an appalling way, couldn’t believe she’s accusing her of lying about what her and Terrance do after a long day. She shakes her head, getting up to leave, but stops and turns around.

“You know….envy doesn’t look good on you when you’re the one causing it. Because you’re the one who’s trying to save your marriage here, it doesn’t mean you have to put me down to get me to suffer in your misery.” she states, glaring at her.

“Oh, fuck you, Valerie. Pretending traveling all over the country so he can get information to make replicas of people going to space to replace their home life while you do absolutely nothing is not normal. Waste of time if anything!” she responded, not looking at her.

“Oh? But….you’re the one….who wants to explore, right? You’re the one with the idea of walking out on him, leaving him in an envelope with a letter that has nothing written, just to show how you thought of your relationship.”

Hen looks up, with a scowl on her face. Valerie smiles evilly, leaning forward.

“Yeah. I heard that part in the files. You two both come from sad backgrounds, it’s amazing you lasted this long.”

“And you think you and Terrance are gonna last longer?”

“We have. Hence why I’m here, right? He loves his job and loves taking care of me because he actually loves me. And you hate that. Cause Junior loves you, but not how you want him to. And that’s why you’re reacting the way you are because when the real one comes back, it’s not gonna be the same. Just this replica is willing to try to make you happy, I’ll give him that.”

“You don’t know me. You only know what I told your husband. That’s why you think you can stand there, give advice something you have no idea about. Just taking after his writing and whatever else included…..Junior’s right. You do follow everything he does because you have nothing to go home to after you’re done using him. I feel sorry for you, having to adjusting things to his liking.” Hen says, shaking her head.

Valerie’s jaw drops, in shocked at what she said to her. None of this is true, but watching Hen’s anger towards Junior make her believe that she’s using Terrance because she has nothing for herself just woke up something inside her that she didn’t have: overwhelmed anger. She walks back slow, keeping her glare up.

“I understand that you want to explore things that he won’t let you do because he’s afraid of losing you, hence why you’re taking it out on me and Terrance. I would suggest leaving him, but based on how you two met and looking around…….can’t really do much. But I’ll leave you with this: slap him one more time and I’ll fuck you up.” she uttered before storming off, walking to the house.

As she gets closer, Junior’s truck, with him and Terrance inside, pulls up. The men get out the car to unload the bags of groceries from the back when they see Valerie walking, not noticing her anger all over her.

“Hey baby. I see you’re enjoying the beautiful night sky out here.” said Terrance as he pulls down the tailgate and grabs a few bags.

“Your wife’s a bitch, Junior!” she yells, walking past them and onto the porch, swings the door open, and walks inside.

Both men look at each other, very confused on what just happened before resuming getting the bags.

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Valerie is sitting on the couch on the porch, reading Parable of the Sower, with the hanging bulbs being used as her lights.

Soft steps are heard until the front door opens, with Terrance walks out, carrying a tray of food and drinks.

“Hey.” he says, gently walking over.

“Hey.” she replies, not looking at him.

“I thought you might’ve been hungry and a little thirsty, so I brought you dinner.” he says as he places the tray on the table before sitting next to her. She looks at it, moving her book to the side.

“We decided on burgers from this local place, so I got you your favorite: a Spicy Jack burger with jalapeños, pepper jack cheese, chipotle mayo, sautéed onions, lettuce, and no tomato & pickles, of course. I wasn’t sure if you wanted the spicy seasoning on your fries, so I asked them to put it on the side. And I got you a Sprite. I just got a regular American and a Coke. Hope you like it.” he said as he places her drink and plate in front of her.

“Thanks, but I’m not that hungry right now.” she replied, going back to her book.

“That’s fine. Just don’t let it get cold.” he says, beginning to eat his food.

She nodded, still reading the page. There was silence for a few minutes, with the sounds of Valerie turn a page occurring a few times. Terrance watches her for a few moments, taking in her be focused on reading.

“…what happen between you and Hen while we were out?” he asked, laying back in his seat.

“Nothing.” she replied, not looking at him.

“You sure?”

“Very.”

“So why are you being dismissive?”

“….I can’t read after I said I’m not hungry?” she replied, now looking at him.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying…..you’re normally talkative. Asking me things. Just….being you.”

“Well, what if I’m not in the mood to be that right now?” she said, going back to her book.

Terrance frowns at that response, looking out in the opening as he thought about his next move that won’t make her mad.

“….did you two do something that you regret? I wouldn’t be mad if that was case, considering you know. We can always erase it.” he says letting out a small laugh.

Valerie, now anger, throws the book on the ground and stands up. She walks in front of the table, pacing back and forth before turning to him.

“Why the fuck would you assume we hooked up while you and hothead were out? Hm? She’s not even my type! Just because you got attracted to her husband, it’s doesn’t mean I’m going for the wife and I hope that’s not what you’re trying to get me to do.” she said, staring very angry at him.

“Valerie, I wasn’t being—“

“Serious? Because wow, that’s a terrible thing to joke about with me. I would never, ever lay next to someone as miserable as she is and you are a disgusting asshole for that…..”

Her voice trails at the end as she leans on the pillar. Suddenly, her chest begins beating fast, creating a painful sensation that it hurts for her to breath. She places her hand on it, trembling onto her knees as Terrance got and races over to her fast.

“Breathe…breathe….breathe.” he whispers to her as he holds her, mimicking a ‘inhale/exhale’ motion.

She follows, wheezing each time as the sensation slowly went away and her breathing was back to normal. Then, she cries, collapsing into him. He pulls her into an embrace, holding her tight as she cried into his chest, letting it all.

“What did she do? Cause this is not normal for you to be crying over and I’m getting very worried.”

She looks up, wiping her tears as she sniffles.

“She said….I’m using you because I have nothing to….to go back to once “this” is done.” she said in weak voice.

“Oh, baby…..” he mumbles, cuddling her.

“I know it’s not true and it’s stupid to throw a fit about…but, my god, it stings! People are so cruel and for what?!”

“It’s just a rough time for them. Just give them some space and they will be apologizing.”

“Fuck their apology.”

“You don’t have to accept it. I’m not gonna force you.”

Valerie lays against his chest, trancing her left hand over his chest before looking at him again.

“How are you so calm about this?” she asks, slightly sniffling.

“I’m used to it.” he shrugs. “If I break, they’re gonna use that as an advantage to do it again and I don’t want. Which is what you need to adapt. Don’t let what Junior and Hen get under your skin more than it should or else, you’re going to be stuck in an endless cycle with it. Ok?”

She nods. He smiles at her before kissing her nose, carefully helping her up and walking back over to the couch, sitting the both of them down.

“Please eat. I don’t want you going to sleep on an empty stomach.” he says, sliding her plate over a bit with her drink.

She smiles a bit before picking up her burger and biting into it. She moans as it still tasted very warm, even after her outburst a few moments ago.

“We have one more night and this will all be over for you.” he says as he picks up her book and places it on the table. He watches her eat as he peered into the window behind him, slightly locking eyes with Junior for a few minutes before he broke them and looked at Hen, who was drinking.

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Valerie is sleeping in the bed with Terrance, constantly moving around as she’s having a nightmare about being separated from him after OuterMore found he violated the policy by sleeping with a subject.

As she’s being held down to the ground by guards while Terrance attempts to get to her while being handcuffed and screaming her name, a man walks up with a needle in his hand. Just as he kneels down in front of her, he begs the man to leave her alone, just take me only. The man ignores, raising the needle high up, and as he is about to inject her..

She wakes up, breathing shakily. Doing the motion he showed her early, she relaxes, with each exhale bringing her back to normal. She looks over at him, who was peacefully knocked out, his light snores filling the quietness of the room.

Feeling very dry in her throat, she quietly gets up and puts on her robe before opening the door carefully and slowly walks down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone up.

She looks both ways before walking into the kitchen, noticing no one’s around. Opening the cabinet door carefully, she takes out a tall glass before walking to the fridge. Opening the door, she grab the pitcher of water and carefully pours it in her glass, filling it until it’s enough. She takes a sip, releasing a quiet moan as the coolness and wetness hit the back of her throat.

As she turns to walk back up to her room, she hears a sound from the living room. She peers in, looking to see if anything catches her eye. “Nothing.” she said in her mind, turning back to the stairs.

“Fuck.” moaned a familiar voice, very quietly.

Looking back in the room, she scans the room once more before landing her eyes on something bewildering that she gasped.

In the one of the living room chairs laid Junior, whose eyes were closed, but his hands? Stroking himself as the moon shined on him. Recreating a scene Valerie saw weeks earlier where he was stroking himself as he watched her and Terrance make love. As much as she was slowly getting aroused by this, guilt filled her mind quickly and she had to do something or it will be very awkward if Hen or Terrance woke up and saw this.

“Junior?” she said, loud enough but not too loud that it wakes everyone up.

Junior opens his eyes, looks at Valerie, and immediately stands up quickly to pulls his shorts up, trying to make this situation less awkward, but failed. He chuckles shyly, not trying to look at her.

“Whatever you saw me doing……you didn’t see.” he says.

Valerie chuckles before walks up the stairs to her room, quietly closing the door, leaving Junior feeling embarrassed.

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A few hours later, Valerie wakes up again. This time, the sun is beaming into the room. She blinks slowly, running her eyes before letting out a big yawn. She touches behind her to see if Terrance was still in bed, only for cold emptiness to hit her hand. She frowns, hoping he was still in bed.

Rising up, she grabs a washcloth and bath towel before walking to the bathroom to shower. After rinsing her body and wrapping it in the towel, she heads back to their room, taking out a long, cream colored, leg slit crochet dress that had an off-the-shoulder top that she made when they were first starting to see each other. After oiling her body, putting sunscreen on, placing her curls in a half up-half down hairdo, and grabbing her crochet bag, she heads down the stairs to sit on the porch and make something.

Just as she’s about to pass the kitchen, a cinnamon sugar scent hits her nose. She walks in, where she sees Terrance chopping onions as Hen was stuffing the turkey with vegetables. She clears her, causing the both of them turn and look at her.

“Oh! Good morning—well, afternoon, Valerie. We didn’t hear you walk in.” he said, walking up to kiss her. “No issues with anything?”

Valerie shakes her head ‘no’ before kissing him, watching him walk back to his position as she looks at the uncooked food spread out across the kitchen.

“Assuming you two are making dinner?” she asks.

“Yeah. Just a simple roasted turkey, mac and cheese, collard greens, rice, mashed potatoes, and cornbread.” said Hen, not looking at her.

“Huh. You may be miserable but you got exquisite taste in food. I’ll give you that.” said Valerie, very amused at the menu.

“Valerie.” said Terrance, eyeing her with a “please drop it” look as Hen scoffs loudly.

“Well. Ima go sit on the porch and crochet a new piece while y’all cook. Its suppose to be very hot, so I thought it would be a perfect weather to sit out and do something.” she said as she turned to leave.

“You’re not gonna eat? I made you some pancakes, scrambled eggs, and some turkey scrapple since we don’t eat pork.” he said as he opened the oven and took out the plate, handing it to her.

“Oh. I didn’t think y’all saved me anything since I woke up late.” she said, gently taking the plate out of his hands.

“No? I always make sure you eat, even if you’re last. Did you want water or OJ?” he asks as he places a fork and knife on the plate.

“I’ll do a water.”

“Hen, do you mine pouring her a glass?”

“No worries.” she replies, taking out a cup before heading to grabbed the pitcher.

“Hothead not up?” Valerie whispers, making sure Hen doesn’t her farm.

“Working on the farm. He seemed a little off today.” Terrance replies in a whisper tone.

“Technically, he is…that.”

“Yeah, but…..he was being nice? He’s not usually like that.”

“Hm.”

Hen walks over to hand her the glass of water, but Terrance takes it from her.

“I’ll carry this for her. Thank you though.”

Hen nods before walking back to the turkey. Terrance walks to the front door and opens it, with Valerie walking out and over to the couch, placing the plate on the table before sitting down and placing the crochet bag next to her. Terrance hands her the water and kisses her forehead before walking back in.

After finishing her breakfast, she began crocheting her new piece: a sun shaped cone bra with a cloud hanging between. Using the colors, yellow, white, and orange to create a three colored pattern, she begins her piece, moving at a modern pace so she doesn’t mess up.

As she’s doing that, she looks up and sees Junior doing work on the farm. From sweeping up the hay to moving wood logs around, he seemingly focused a lot on cleaning, amusing Valerie a lot. After finishing up, he sees her sitting on the porch, working on her piece.

Cautiously, he walks over, taking a seat on the edge of the porch floor, his back facing her. She doesn’t notice him sitting there until he clears his throat and she looks up.

“Hello, Junior.” she says.

“Good afternoon to you as well.” he replies.

“I see you were working hard out there.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm. Seems exhausting trying to keep something clean just for it to get messy by the next day.”

“Yeah. That’s farm life for you.” he says, letting out a stifled chuckle.

She nods, looking down to resume crocheting her bra. There’s an awkward silence between the two for a few moments before Junior turns to face her.

“I wanted to apologize for not only last night, but my behavior towards you yesterday.”

She looks at him, moving her hook and bra to the side.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did since you are only his wife that travels with him on these…..assignments as he calls them. We were talking yesterday as we drove into town and he was explaining everything about you and….I realize you are adored a lot by him. He’s mentioned you a few times since being here, but I never seen him talk about you in a captivating way that it slowly made me think that….maybe I do need to listen to things Hen wants and not put my needs above hers. And maybe this trip to space will save us in the end because I could come back a better husband and caretaker for her instead of fearing of losing her permanently. But, I do apologize and hope you can accept it.” he says, giving her a genuine look

Impressed by this apology from him, she smiles as she thinks of a response. But, the growing guilt of knowing that less than 72 hours from now, the real Junior will be home to rightfully take back his spot, settles in. She feels bad that she can’t tell him, but having the nightmare of being taken away keeps that reminder in tact.

“And, I should check my surroundings before I start pleasuring myself.” he adds, making the both of them laugh.

“Well…..I do accept your apology as it seems very genuine. But, if you’re thinking about taking what Hen wants seriously, you need to do it now before it’s too late. Life’s too short to be distant with each other all the time.”

“Thank you, Val.”

“No problem.”

He gets up and walks to the door. But before he opens it, he looks at Val again.

“….what happen between you last night? You were very….explosive with the bitch part.” he asks.

“All I can say is my intelligence was insulted, which hurts my feelings. And I can careless if her ass gives an apology.” she said, sighing in the process.

“…..I’ll talk to her when she’s done prepping dinner with him. I don’t want your last night here being ruined by what happened yesterday. And I do wanna try that cake you made.”

Valerie laughs, making Junior smile before walking inside the house. Wow. What a change of heart, she thought, resuming work on her piece.

Hours go by and Valerie finishes the bra, which came out very nice and fitted perfectly for her chest. She walks in the house and lays on the couch, deciding to take a hour nap since dinner was currently baking in the oven as Terrance and Junior were upstairs, doing another session. And Hen was….well, Hen.

She was peacefully sleeping when she felt someone gently shaking her, making her open her eyes. As her eyes unblurred, she can tell person in front of her was Hen, now dressed in a red and brown pattern dress.

“Sorry for waking you up. Dinner’s ready and I was wondering if you can go get the men while I set up?” she said, walking back to kitchen.

“Yeah….I’ll get them.” said Valerie, letting out a stretch before getting up and walking upstairs.

She gently knocks on the door, patiently waiting for Terrance to greet her.

No response.

She knocks again, a little louder, thinking this will get his attention.

Once again, nothing.

“Terrance? Junior? Is everything okay in there?” she asks, putting her ear against the door to hear.

Nothing. No movement, no sound, just silence.

She grabs the doorknob, turns it, and hears an unlock sound, signaling it’s not locked. She pushes the door open and walks in.

“Hey, Hen wanted me to tell y’all that dinner is re…..”

Her voice trails off, in shocked at what she sees.

On the bed, against the wall opposite to the window, was Junior and Terrance, passively making out with and rubbing on each other. Junior looks up, sees her standing there, and breaks away, backing up in fear.

“Why did you sto….” Terrance asks, slowly turning his head to see what he’s looking at.

Startled by Valerie’s presence, he gets up slowly, placing his hands in front to calm her.

“Baby, its not what it looks lik—“

“Dinner is ready. She doesn’t want the food to get cold.” she blurted out with a forced smile on herself, holding back tears.

Afterwards, she storms out, slamming the door behind her. She leans against the hallway banister, silent crying. All of those happy memories of them begin playing in her head. From the day they met to their wedding day to romantic dates to making love…..all just coming in to wash over her broken heart.

Wiping her tears, she walks downstairs, heading to the dining room where Hen was placing the turkey in the middle with the rest of the food.

“They….should be down…soon.” she said, clearing her throat as she sat down.

“…..you okay?” she asks, looking at her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seen a little…..flustered?”

“I’m fine, Hen. Really….fine.”

Loud movement is heard before both men entered the room, cautiously pretending they didn’t get caught. Junior walks over to Hen and kisses her head as Terrance sits next to Valerie, gently brushing past her.

“Okay, so we should be ready. I’m just trying to figure out what am I forgetting.” said Hen.

“Drinks, plates, and utensils.” said Junior, looking at the table.

“Shit. I knew it was something important!”

“Come on. I’ll help you get it.” he said, pulling her into the kitchen, leaving Terrance and Valerie alone.

Silence fills the room as Valerie turns away, not wanting to see him.

“So…..when do you want to file to end this? After they approve you?” she asks with a cold tone in her voice.

“Don’t say that.” he replies, turning her seat to face him.

“What? You don’t like the sound of it? Being a divorcee? You don’t mind behaving like one.”

Terrance pulls her seat even closer, bringing down the distance between them. He leans forward, placing his hands on her thighs.

“You know….you’re acting the way she did when we butted heads. Distant. Insults. Not wanting to look at me. Sometimes slapping me if I said something wrong. But, I deserved it. Just like how I deserve you acting the way you are right now.”

“If this is your way of apologizing, you’re gonna have to try a lot harder.” she says, pushing his hands off.

“Which I am. You know I do. After everything we been through and yet, we’re still here.”

“For a reason I’m not gonna say cause I don’t want to hurt you. Hell, I don’t even want to hurt me!” she said, her voice beginning to crack.

Terrance leans back, sniffling a little as he hands her a napkin, with her taking it.

“I don’t know it’s because she never felt this whenever y’all were going through it or this is something else, but I just feel….not me. I don’t know if it’s because of what’s about to happen or I’m missing something that I want but can’t have…” she says, wiping her tears.

“Like what? Another person romantically? Being on your own?”

Valerie shakes her head, looking at him, who is now crying.

“….l can never be on my own. Or love someone else other than you, even if I tried. But I have no interest.”

“Then what do you think it is?”

“…..maybe it’s a memory I never seen that she wants me to unlock. Maybe I have to see something to get there.”

“I think I can help with that. I don’t know how, but I’ll try.”

“Do you think that’s enough?”

“I know it’s not. It just means I have to prove myself in order to earn your trust back.”

She looks away, wiping her face with the napkin as Terrance looks at her. She exhales, looking back at him.

“…..he was there.” she confessed.

“What?”

“The night we made love, when you asked if something was out there that I kept looking, it was him. Junior. He watched us.”

He lets out a surprise laugh, covering his mouth. He wipes his face as he looked to see if Hen and Junior were coming.

“What the hell……”

“And I liked it.”

“You’re telling me this now?”

“You kissed him. After telling me you had control over your urges. And I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the only time with the way you and him were going at it.”

He doesn’t respond, just nods. Confirming it. She rolls her eyes, not mad, just disappointed.

“….do you want him? Like in a romantic way?”

“No.”

“….me either.”

“But you want to fuck him.”

“……yes.”

“…….I’ll keep that in mind.” she replies, turning away from him.

He about to ask her what she meant when Hen and Junior walked back in with the missing items, placing them on the table.

“Sorry for the wait. We were debating which ones to bring out!” said Hen, putting plates in front of them.

“That’s fine. We’re just having a conversation.” said Terrance, fixing himself.

“Oh, is everything okay?” asked Junior, with a concerned look on his face.

Terrance and Hen look at Valerie, who feels the pressure building.

“Yeah, Junior. Everything is fine.” she replies, smiling at him.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A/N II: trouble in paradise? or is the paradise about to cause some steamy trouble in the bedroom? A little long, but I liked it! Part 3 should be out some time next week, but have a good night/day everyone 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Taglist: @urfavblackbimbo @blyffe @literallegendicon

[stupidlittlespirit]

Rating: SFW Type: Longford, multi-chapter, Ford Pines x reader Word count: 7339  Tags: Fluff (lots), no pronouns used, Ford being silly, housekeeper!Reader My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Ch.1 here In which a simple expedition with Ford goes increasingly sideways and you learn more than enough about thermodynamics to last you a lifetime.

This chapter: Ford shows off in the woods and you get to muse lyrical about him while you tag along.

“Just for the record,” Ford says as he leads you along a narrow path into the treeline. “My brother is right.”

Stepping carefully over a fallen log, you glance up at him and frown, confused at his meaning. “How so?”

Ford watches you from the corner of his eye as he walks, a tiny smirk ghosting across his mouth. “Technically, I am experimenting on you….”

Oh shit. Your stomach somersaults nervously. Just how much of that conversation did he overhear….?

“He was just kidding around,” you hurry to clarify, attempting to brush Ford’s comments off with a weak laugh. “I'm not-!”

“Oh, so you don't enjoy being my test subject?” Ford asks, and much to your surprise, he seems to be fighting a teasing grin. “You wound me.”

You’re so taken off guard by his unexpected ribbing that you almost trip over your own feet.

Though Ford has his own wicked, dry sense of humour hidden underneath his many layers, it isn’t often that he dares to be so outright playful with you.

You’ve had your moments with one another, no matter how rare, and though you’re not the strangers you had been at the beginning of your job, it’s still always a surprise when he acts so impish around you.

From the moment you’d come on board, it had been crystal clear that Stan was the social butterfly out of the two. Even with his occasionally grumpy demeanour, the man is capable of bantering over absolutely anything, of spinning a yarn about the stupidest of things on the spot like it’s the easiest thing in the world for him. He’s joked with you plenty of times before that he’d been the twin to soak up all the charisma in the womb while Ford had gotten everything else and for the most part, he isn’t entirely wrong.

In areas of a more extroverted nature, you’ve noticed that Ford lacks his brother’s (sterling) silver tongue, for the most part.

Not necessarily because he can’t don it himself but more because, although you think it would pain him to admit his shortcomings, he seems to struggle with such things.

Ford is stiff around people he isn’t accustomed to and the best of his communication skills generally extend to a very specific set of circumstances. He isn’t completely incapable of interacting with other people outside of his own bubble. He just…. Isn’t the best at it.

You often overhear him laughing and messing around with the kids or, when they’re not bickering, his brother. Their conversations flow easily and, although Stan has suggested that might not have always been the case, Ford is naturally more relaxed around them. He can let his guard down.

It’s understandable. They’re his family and his safety net. For Ford, interacting with them is much easier than interacting with a stranger and he knows his audience when he talks to them. He knows what to expect and he can comfortably risk being more open with them.

But, in Stan’s words, Ford is still adjusting to returning home, both physically and socially, and he struggles to extend that grace to others.

Your initial meeting with him had been…. Tumultuous, to say the least.

Your second week on the job, you’d wandered into Ford’s study in order to clean it, only to find yourself shoved face-first into the wall barely seconds later, your body forced flat against the panelling and one arm twisted painfully up behind your back while Ford had barked orders to his family about ‘dealing with intruders’ and ‘fetching the crossbow’.

It hadn't been until Stan had come careening down the hallway, shouting his head off at his brother and swiftly negotiated your release, that Ford had seen fit to let you go.

To his credit, Ford had offered several apologies (though only after he had chastised you for entering without knocking) and so far, it's never happened since.

But from that point onwards, getting more than a single word out of Ford had been downright impossible for the first couple of months in your time with the Pines.

Elusive, severe and not particularly interested in being any less of either when it came to you, Ford had avoided you like the plague. Whether out of embarrassment or pride at your less-than-stellar introduction, or something else entirely, he hadn’t made much of an effort to try again and so you’d barely had the opportunity to say a word to him to rectify it.

Where the kids were desperate to interrogate you about your life or your time in town, and where Stan was pleased to have someone new to pick on, Ford had oscillated between staying hidden within the confines of his own private space, blinkered to your existence, and behaving like his own miniature storm, sweeping in and out of the house with the purpose of a man possessed.

And when he had shown his face, on the rare occasion he chose to step foot outside of his study or his lab, he’d been brusque and far too caught up in his tasks to deign you, the newcomer, with any sort of acknowledgement.

Admittedly, you’d been left disappointed.

Ford had caught your attention immediately (how could he not?) and his lack of reciprocity had only served to increase your interest. Yet any tiny moment you’d seized to see if things might change, be it passing one another in the hallway or being roped into joining the kid’s games, had only gone down like a lead balloon.

When the two of you had been left alone, Ford had been even worse: Switching from his severity to being skittish or dismissive each time you’d attempted to strike up polite conversation and even so much as a simple 'hello' had been enough to make him freeze up.

Right up until he’d almost burnt the skin clean off of his hand one dull Tuesday evening, that is.

On silent feet, he’d flown through the kitchen doorway at the exact same time you’d been passing through it yourself, colliding solidly with you and sending the lukewarm mug of coffee in your hands flying, its contents tumbling to the floor.

The mug had been flung halfway across the room, shattering on the stone tiles underfoot, and the only reason you hadn’t joined it on the floor had been thanks to an artful dodge Ford had thrown in at the last second in order to avoid knocking you flat on your ass.

Before you’d had the chance to say anything, he had dashed for the sink, swearing profusely and clutching his right forearm, and after a few moments of watching him flap about, your brain had recovered in its shock and you’d sprung into action to help him.

As it had turned out, Ford had apparently been doing some spring cleaning that evening and while carrying what he presumed to be an empty jar, a small amount of liquid (which you’d later learned to be aged sulphuric acid) had seeped through a crack in its glass and immediately eaten into the thin skin of his palm.

With him lacking in dexterity, you had slapped on the cold tap and forced his hand underneath it immediately, instructing him to stay still until told differently while you’d wracked your brains to remember your high school science safety classes.

“You didn’t spill it anywhere else, did you?” You’d asked, alarmed.

“What am I, an idiot?” Ford had scoffed.

“Says the man moving chemicals without gloves,” had been your curt reply, and Ford had quietened down a little after that.

The burn hadn’t been too bad, thankfully. Nothing more than a pink, dime sized mark had been left by the time you’d let him take his hand out from underneath the stream and even though he’d protested that he’d be perfectly fine with just a band-aid, you’d forced him to sit at the kitchen table and allow you to give him some actual first aid.

Half an hour and a roll of bandages later, and Ford had managed to hold his first proper conversation with you.

Granted, most of it had been on the topics of various sciences and such, but it had been a conversation all the same and you’d been secretly thrilled to have it.

He had even helped you to clean up the mess on the floor, too.

The next time he’d seen you in passing, Ford had offered you a curt nod and a small, wary smile. A miniscule improvement upon being ignored or run away from, and just enough to raise your hopes that he might not entirely hate your existence.

And, like the erosion of his own epidermis, a new part of Ford had been exposed to you over time.

Ford had (very, very slowly) come around to the idea of having you in the house, and with each passing day, he’d warmed up to you some more.

Passing nods turned into stiff little 'hellos' in response to your own greetings, and those 'hellos' into 'how are you’s', and before your eyes, the impenetrable ice around him had melted away to expose someone much more human and something far less enigmatic than the front he’d put forward to begin with.

The revelation of his genuine personality had only served to change your natural curiosity over him into something closer to a childish crush and from that point on, you’d been toast. Hopelessly smitten toast.

And although he still struggles depending on his mood, the six months in particular have seen real growth: Ford has been more amenable to chatting with you about his work and even though he keeps you at arms length from the depths of his scientific endeavours, even though he’s still hard to get a read on some days, he’s far less aloof for the most part and every now and then he’ll take a cheeky shot at you when you least expect it.

It always knocks you off balance.

When you’ve recovered from your shock and your brain catches up to your mouth, you find a lame comeback to throw his way:

“I’m not a mouse, you know,” you tell him, primly.

“Of course not,” replies Ford, rather fondly. “Mice are rarely such good company.”

You meet his eyes in surprise and for a second, you share a look with him that you’re not quite sure how to decipher. There’s something warm in his gaze. It’s not unwelcome.

The moment is fleeting and almost instantly, Ford looks away and clears his throat. His strides extend until he’s practically power-walking ahead of you along the forest’s path, his back to you and his voice hardened again as he slips back into the familiar, commanding personality you’re much more accustomed to.

“Dipper tells me you’ve never been into the forests properly before, correct?” He asks, hands clasped behind his back as he walks briskly.

You trot along to catch up with him a little, shaking off the odd feeling. “Correct.”

Ford nods. “Then allow me to give you a run down of how things work out here,” he says, and abruptly, you realise you’re about to witness one of the first special circumstances in which Ford’s communication skills make a rare appearance:

When he takes charge.

Ford snatches control of the reins during any situation that (in his opinion) requires a clear leader and it’s as intimidating a trait as it is admirable.

According to Stan, he’s gotten better at being slightly less militant around the kids, but old habits die hard and you’ve seen him turn on this persona plenty of times before.

Part of you often wonders if it’s a symptom of his time in the portal. If he’d been all alone, thrust head first into (what you can only imagine to be) exceptionally dangerous situations, he’s probably learnt to lean on it for survival.

The other part of you knows full well that Ford is a smart guy anyway. Of course he takes charge when he’s the authority on the subject.

Sometimes, however, you have a suspicion it might be reactive: You’ve noticed that he has a tendency to smother his awkwardness with that bossiness at times. He tries to hide it and make the change seem casual, but it’s obvious when you look a little closer that he’s attempting to claw back his footing and come out on top again. A defence mechanism of sorts.

Telling others what to do comes naturally to him and he can often rely on it a little too heavily sometimes. It can make him come off as a bit of an asshole (see: very much like an asshole) and it’s taken some time to get used to, but you do your best not to take it too personally.

Unless he’s being particularly obnoxious, it’s easier to let him get on with it than it is to fight him. You’ve tried before and it hasn’t gone well.

“Rule number one,” says Ford, holding back a low hanging branch to allow you room to duck underneath it. “Stay close to me and don’t wander off. There are things out here that are much worse than your average predator and they’re not fond of disturbances, trust me.”

Ford’s tone holds gravity; undoubtedly he’s speaking from a place of practised experience with that exact scenario.

“Rule number two: You do what I say, without question. Don’t hesitate. If I tell you to run, you move like there’s fire at your heels. If I tell you to stay still, you turn to stone. Understood?”

“Understood,” you assure him.

Though you should be annoyed by how overbearing he is, you find yourself quite taken by seeing him out in the field like this.

It’s a new environment in every way for you and for all that you’ve heard about his adventuring and disciplined nature from Dipper, it’s quite something to behold.

“And rule number three,” he says, shooting you a coy grin over his shoulder. “Is to have fun. This is your fledgling expedition after all and the first time is always the most exhilarating. Don’t forget to enjoy yourself.”

His smile is contagious.

Ford's initial assurance that the trip to the mushroom patch would take you both little more than an hour dies an early death.

He's comfortably confident, as he so often is, that the weather will hold out long enough to allow you both some time to sightsee on the way and despite your anxiety about getting lost or dry drowning before you can even reach the place, you find yourself unable to talk him out of it.

Not because if you put your foot down he'd ignore your wishes, but because it is just so damn hard not to be charmed by Ford's demeanour when he gets all excited about adventuring.

He’s clearly delighted to have an opportunity to put on a display for someone other than Dipper, no matter how much he refutes his brother’s claims of doing so, and you’re more than willing to give him the floor to do it.

Wariness aside, it’s not like you’re not curious about all of the things lurking in these woods. The concept of cryptids and monsters being real is as thrilling as it is terrifying and you’d be lying if you said you haven’t at least hoped Ford might take you out with him one day.

Stanley had informed you that his brother was a scientist with particularly unique specialisms right at the start of your employment, that his areas of interest weren’t exactly what most would consider ‘normal’, and you’d been intrigued by it immediately.

You know that Ford has an extensive lab beneath the lodge and although you’re rarely granted access, he’s allowed you to deliver him coffee once or twice since he’s become a little more comfortable with your presence.

The place is huge, but Ford is a private person and even when you’ve expressed interest in touring it to see his work in more detail, he’s always assured you of its dangers and kept you (quite disappointingly) at arm’s length from the practical aspect of it all.

Which makes today a dream come true.

As he strides through the chilly, grey forest with you in tow, Ford sheds some of his sharper, more authoritarian attitude as soon as he starts to pick out things he thinks you might find interesting.

One of the other ways in which Ford can communicate well, and by far your favourite, is when he's excited. Usually it's about science; perhaps something special shows up in his test results or maybe he discovers a new species of creature, but whatever it is, it's enough to blow the lid off of his usually stoic self and expose the big, curious kid that he carries close to his heart.

He can’t resist the urge to go into detail about his finds and to flex his disgustingly impressive intelligence on those around him.

Stan insists it’s simply because his brother is a geek who likes to show that off to anyone who will listen, and while that isn’t entirely untrue, Ford is absolutely a clever clogs with tendency to be pompous about it, it’s still exceptionally endearing to watch him get so eager about things.

Ford will get a familiar glint in his eye, shove his glasses up his strong nose, and then launch into a spiel about some of the most complex topics you've never even heard of, talking a mile a minute and waving his hands around all of the place as he explains all of it to anyone who will listen.

You're no mathematician, nor a high IQ scientist, and everything he talks about is well above your intelligence level, but when Ford gets like that you just can't look away from him.

Having been prohibited from his lab (and sometimes even his study, for reasons he never clarifies), you’re always ecstatic to hear about what he’s found or whatever he’s spent his week working on, and being privy to his joy offers a rush that not even the most potent of drugs could beat.

The first forty minutes of your walk together is mostly made up of you watching Ford dart on and off the path, scraping things from trees and narrating his work.

The sun’s rays are dull and watery, reduced to a shitty grey by the time it sneaks its way down through the clouds and canopy over your heads, but even its miserable tint can’t take away the shine that Ford gives off.

As you progress through the woods, Ford fills you in on every piece of flora that the two of you pass, pointing out their colours and attributes, and informing you which flowers make nice bouquets and which ones will kill every member of your household when they bloom.

He explains the discrepancies between moss and lichen on the trees, and goes into detail about his favourite types of each one. It’s so sweet that it makes your teeth ache and admittedly you’re not paying much attention to whatever it is that he’s showcasing for you, despite your polite displays of pretending to.

You’re too busy watching him, taking in the way his eyes light up and his silvery hair glitters each time a glimpse of sunlight makes it down to the forest floor. The way his lopsided grin makes his crow’s feet crinkle more on one side and his dimples pronounce amongst his slight stubble.

He’s truly a sight to behold.

Being as unfit as you are, however, it’s challenging enough to keep up with him physically, let alone mentally. Every time he pauses to point at something, you just about reach his side before he darts off again, always moving a step ahead to ensure he maximises his time in the outdoors.

Rule number one might be stay close, but he’s not too fussed about making that easy for you.

Every now and then, though, Ford slows down just enough to return to you, reappearing with something clasped between his big hands like an overenthusiastically happy dog bringing you a stick in its mouth. The first couple of times had been to show you some different types of plant life or tree bark, but this time is different.

This time, he waits for you to catch up to his side before he nods to a large, plum coloured bush that rises up above your head a little way. Its leaves are long and slender, and they almost look like hearts.

Their faces are marred with silvery, chevron-shaped markings that curve over and reach down to the tips of each one, and the leaves are so dense that you can't see inside no matter how to crane your neck.

You look up at Ford, who is practically puffed out with how much he's enjoying himself, and he puts a finger to his lips before leaning down closer to you.

“This is a form of persicaria microcephala, sometimes referred to as Red Dragon.” Ford says, voice hushed. “They’re not native to this country, you’ll find them primarily in China or Britain, but we’ve got a few bushels dotted about around here.”

Unsure as to why he feels the need to whisper the fact to you, you simply nod.

“But,” Ford continues, clearly picking up on your silent confusion. “Ours is more literal than the stuff you’ll find abroad or in cheap garden centres….”

Careful not to be too rough, Ford slowly pries open an area of the bush with a practised touch and nods for you to peer inside.

You're a little wary at first; you're not in the habit of sticking your nose into wild things in a town like this, yet you know Ford isn't going to set you up to land in harm's way on purpose. You trust him enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Cautiously, you lean up to peer into the small clearing he's made and feel your mouth drop open.

On the thin stems inside the plant, there are at least a dozen little creatures nesting. They're all about as long as your pinky finger and initially, you assume them to be lizards.

Each one is a varying shade of purpley-red, some darker, some closer to a pinkish hue, and they're so well camouflaged against their setting that it’s a bit difficult to make them out at first.

That is, until one of them stands up from its perch and stretches, cat-like, with a yawn. It unfurls gossamer wings that flutter like a bee’s and hops from one branch to another, aided by them, before settling back down again.

They’re dragons. Teeny little honest-to-god fucking dragons.

You look back at Ford, aware that your expression suggests that your eyes appear are about to fall out of your head, and whisper as loudly as you dare: “Are you serious?”

Ford, who looks exceptionally pleased with himself, nods again. “We call them Dragon Flies, for obvious reasons. Dipper coined the name. Lovely, aren’t they?”

They really are. Dragons are up there at the top of your list of Really Fucking Cool Stuff as far as you’re concerned, and for all the weirdness in Gravity Falls, you can’t say you thought such creatures to be among it. The notion seems too fantastical. Yet, here they are, tiny and utterly adorable in all their glory.

It’s enough to take your breath away.

“I love dragons,” you whisper, grinning through the leaves at them. “They’re my favourites.”

“I know,” says Ford, and in your surprise, you whip your head back around to meet his eye.

He seems a little taken aback by his own words too, like he hadn’t meant to say them out loud, and a redness blooms on the tops of his cheekbones.

“That is,” he clears his throat softly. “I overheard you talking to the children earlier this week about them and I remembered on the way that we’d pass by here, so I just…. Thought you might like to see.”

You can only barely remember the conversation yourself. Dipper had been sitting at the dinner table, sketching furiously in his notebook whilst Mabel had given random, rapid fire requests to help him practise his speed for field work illustrations, and Dipper had offered you an opportunity to try one when you’d passed through to fetch some water.

Obviously, your answer had been 'dragon' and Dipper had scratched out a shockingly good diagram of one in under thirty seconds. It had been incredibly impressive and he had even given you the sketch. It’s still folded up in your bag at home.

You don’t recall seeing Ford during it, though….. Damn his alley-cat footing.

Still, that means he remembers your off-hand comment from so long ago despite not even being part of the conversation, and it makes your chest burn with appreciation that he’d put two and two together like this, just to show you something you might find fun.

You laugh softly under your breath, restraining the happiness that surges through you so that you don’t frighten the Dragon Flies, and Ford’s nervous expression melts into a lopsided smile of his own once he realises you’re happy with his offering.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, with as much meaning as you can heap into two words.

Ford shrugs one shoulder, his attempted nonchalance overwritten by delight. “You’re welcome,” he says softly. “They’re quite friendly, too. I was a little concerned they might be a risk for forest fires in the summer months but they don’t appear to actually breathe fire. The most I’ve seen them do is burp a few sparks and even then that’s rare. Fairly even-tempered creatures, it seems.”

One of the Dragon Flies turns to glance at you over its shoulder, giving you a disinterested, lazy look as though to illustrate Ford’s point, and your smile grows even more.

After a few more moments of silent, avid observation, Ford carefully lowers the leaves again. “I’m afraid we’ll have to keep moving if we want to avoid the rain today,” he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “But I’d be happy to bring you back another time. I can even help you handle one, if you’d like.”

As much as you’d love to stay, you know he’s right. You’re already behind schedule. Plus, a second opportunity to hang out means more time to spend alone with him and if today is anything to go by so far, you’ll be thrilled to do it all again.

“That would be incredible, Doctor Pines, thank you.” You smile, stepping away to follow his lead. “If you wouldn’t mind then I’d love to.”

Ford chuckles as he starts off again down the path with you in tow. “My dear, it would be my pleasure.”

Quite suddenly, the forest doesn’t feel as chilly as it has done for most of your walk. Ford’s words warm you up from toe to tip and you’re very grateful that he’s too busy marching along to look at you. If he turned to face you, he would undoubtedly catch the big, stupid grin that’s eating up half your face.

My dear.

My dear.

You’ve heard him call Mabel the same thing plenty of times before. Ford isn’t one for terms of endearment except when it comes to the kids and although you’ve heard him refer to her with several, he’s only ever referred to you by your name.

Up until now, that is.

He’s probably just being nice and playing along with the excitement, yet it rolls off his tongue so casually that it makes your stomach flip-flop.

If accompanying him on a miniature quest is going to result in things like this then you wonder if maybe the next time you cook, you ought to leave your ingredients out overnight for Waddles to pick at as he sees fit…..

The rest of the walk to the patch is amicably quiet, bar Ford's occasional quips about some more interesting things he spots. You’re both content to simply absorb one another’s presence as you move through the forest floor together.

It isn’t long after you leave the Dragon Flies that the wind begins to pick up.

It forces its way through the canopy of fir trees overhead and makes their branches ripple and thrash as it chases through them, tearing out fresh leaves and strewing them across the damp mud under your feet.

The grey clouds above aren't as easily pushed aside, though. If anything, they knit together as if to defend the sky from the gales and their density, combined with the thick trees, only makes it even darker.

Visibility in the forest becomes less and less, and by the time you make it to the patch, Ford swings the heavy pack off of his shoulder and fishes two camping flashlights out from within. He flicks both of them on and hands one to you.

“Just to be safe,” he says. “I don’t want you to trip.”

You thank him and swing the beam around to illuminate the tiny clusters of mushrooms sticking up through the dirt. The clearing they sit in isn't much more than ten feet by ten, the edges lined with bushes and a few gnarly old trees whose roots leech out through the grass in search of sustenance. It’s a quaint little break from the dense trees.

Under any other circumstances, it would look pretty. The place is picturesque and you can imagine sitting down here to eat a picnic and enjoy the view, but right now all you want to do is dig up your dinner and get home to safety.

The weather is ticking quickly over from ominous to outright worrying.

“Let's start there,” Ford says, voice slightly raised so that you can hear him over a sudden, particularly strong gust of wind.

He flicks his torch beam across yours and settles the light on where you're already looking.

“The last batch I picked were from this area so it'll be safest to start here,” he says, coming to your side and dropping into a squat to inspect the scattering of fungi that dot the ground.

Ford lays his torch by his left foot before dumping the backpack beside it. He rifles through the bag until he pulls out a small plastic tub, popping off the lid and putting it beside his other foot.

Keeping your torch as steady as you can so that you can both see what you’re doing, you kneel in the grass beside him and watch as he gently digs his fingers into the cool, damp soil, and breaks off a single mushroom.

The stem is thick and long, and it curves upward until it blooms outward like a tiny, flowery trumpet. The lip of the cap curls underneath just slightly and it has a rich, jewel-pink hue that fades halfway down the trunk to an off-white.

When Ford turns it over in the beam of your light, it glitters slightly, as though it has some form of iridescent quality.

“It’s almost too pretty to eat,” you say, admiring it with quiet awe. “I feel bad for just disturbing it, let alone putting it in a pie.”

Ford chuckles, dropping it into the container. “Don’t worry, plenty more where this one came from. Ready to get your hands dirty?”

“Always, Doctor Pines.” You grin.

Ford matches your expression and you find a suitable angle with your light before you begin to help him unearth more of the things. They don’t appear to go very deep into the ground and the earth is moist enough that it barely takes much effort to get ahold of their stems.

The two of you work in silence. You're sure Ford would be happy to chat but the wind is making such a racket as it passes through the trees that it would be hard to have a conversation at a normal level, and it feels rude to shout at one another in a place as peaceful as this.

The whole place is silent whenever the gusts die down, almost unnervingly so, and you're sure you'll only disturb whatever wildlife is hanging around if you invite Ford into another lecturing session.

You're almost done excavating the mushrooms when you feel the first fat, freezing droplet of rain hit the base of your exposed neck. You've been expecting the rain, of course, but the coldness takes you by surprise and instinctively, you snap a hand up to where it lands, sitting back on your knees and breaking your focus on the dirt to look at your surroundings again.

It's then that your gaze lands on a shadowy figure, standing just at the edge of the clearing and off to the side of a tree.

The appearance is so unexpected that it instantly makes you jump.

For a terrifying few seconds, you forget Ford's presence at your side and your heart feels like it's about to burst through your chest. What if it’s a monster? What if it’s one of the horrible beasts the kids always talk about and now it’s going to tear you to pieces and eat you alive and-

Instinctively, you snap your torch beam up and shine it across the clearing to illuminate the newcomer.

The light lands on the form of a big, broad, red stag.

He's got to be at least four feet tall at the shoulder and the impressive set of antlers on his head must boost that height to nearly six. His body is covered in thick, mahogany coloured fur that's matted at the ends and slowly darkening under the drops of fresh rain.

Definitely not a monster.

You let out a sigh of relief.

Strangely, he doesn't flee when your light hits his face. He stands stock still and blinks back at you with black eyes, nostrils flaring as he puffs out a cloud of foggy breath.

Ford huffs at the loss of light and looks toward you. “I can't see anythi-!”

You shush him, pointing forwards to the deer, and although he seems annoyed at being told to be quiet, he looks at where you direct his attention.

The deer doesn't move.

Ford laughs under his breath. “Cervus elaphus, “ he says quietly. “Just a red deer. Now, if you wouldn't mind putting the light back so I can-”

“It's just staring at us…..” You say, interrupting him again.

The stag still hasn't broken eye contact with you and a feeling of unease settles in your stomach.

Deer are easily frightened, even a flash of bright light would normally be enough to send one running. It's not even close to rutting season, when you might expect to encounter one in a bad mood, and yet this one doesn't even turn its head away.

“Yes, well,” says Ford. “They do tend to do that.”

You know he wants to go back to nabbing the last of the mushrooms. There's an edge in his voice that only ever comes on when he gets a little pissed off about something. You've heard it enough times to recognise it, and yet….. You don't want to do what he's asking. Not yet, anyway.

The stag blinks and huffs another hot breath. Its shoulder shudders reflexively, likely out of irritation from the rain drops that are starting to fall readily now, and he stomps his hoof into the dirt with a wet thump!

You flick the torch further along him to check out his entire body and as expected, he really is just a regular deer, if a very beautiful one. It's not often that you get to see something so majestic up close and having moved here from the city, it's a pleasure to witness. Just like with the Dragon Flies, nature has a way of taking your breath away whether out of admirable wonder or sudden panic.

“He's beautiful,” you mutter.

Even after so long in this town, it’s still a pleasure to see a sight like this. There are no deer in the cities and moving out here has brought with it not just a plethora of new, supernatural creatures, but also an opportunity to reconnect with the old, natural ones, too.

The stag lowers his head until he nearly looks like he's bowing and then flicks it away. Raindrops fly off each point of his antlers as he does it once and then again, each time punctuated by a stomp of his foot.

Is he….. Shooing you off?

It snorts again, moving as if to step closer, and Ford sighs.

“Not the brightest of creatures and hardly the most interesting thing in a place like this. They're ten a penny out here,” he says, clambering to his feet with a groan. Under his breath, you catch him mutter: “Unlike, say, the literal dragons I showed you.”

He sounds a little peeved that you’re admiring such a simple creature in comparison to his own unique reveal and you have to bite down on a smile to hide your amusement.

He seems borderline jealous that your interest has wandered to something so…. Normal.

“Off you go now!” He claps his hands once, hoping to dissuade it from moving further into the clearing but the stag motions again with its head, ignoring Ford's rejection.

Ford frowns. He seems confused by its refusal and again he attempts to encourage it to move on, this time by stepping closer, but the stag remains resolute.

It holds its head up high and refuses to budge, its eyes never drifting from Ford.

Something feels off. Like he’s trying to communicate with you both, playing charades with horns instead of hands.

“I… Think he wants us to leave,” you say quietly.

His presence has gone from being peacefully pretty to setting your teeth on edge.

Gathering up the plastic tub full of mushrooms and keeping your movements slow and cautious so as not to spook the stag into panicking, you pack away your things.

You've collected more than enough fungi for both cooking and experimentation now, and the rain is falling steadily now. You'll both be soaked before long and you're about ready to get out of here anyway. The stag is just an easy excuse.

Ford glances down at you, brow raised. “I didn't know you spoke deer.”

Quite chivalrously, he offers you a hand to help you to your feet and you take it. His touch is warm, if a little gritty with dirt, and his palms are rough from the callouses that come with his hard-labour lifestyle.

You try not to notice how nice his hand feels in yours.

“You've no idea how far my talents extend, Doctor Pines,” you say dryly, ignoring the way your knees scream with effort after spending so long glued to the cold ground. “I’ll have you know that I'm fluent in Cervus quidvis.”

“Quodvis,” Ford corrects automatically.

“I’m fluent in know-it-all, too,” you add, rolling your eyes. “Now get the rucksack and let’s do what he says before we get any more drenched.”

Ford looks down at you, caught somewhere between being affronted and laughing at your quip. “I’d have thought twice about bringing you along if I knew you were going to be this bossy,” He smirks, half-serious.

“Takes one to know one,” you retort, struggling to stifle a smile of your own.

You give the stag a small wave (which does make Ford laugh) and lower your light so that you can tuck the tub into a side pocket of the rucksack.

“Sorry for bothering you, buddy,” you tell the stag, who doesn’t even blink.

You can feel Ford’s eyes on you and although you know he probably thinks you’re mad for trying to converse with the thing, you feel compelled to let it know that you mean it no harm.

Maybe it’s paranoia or maybe you really are going insane, but it feels important to do. The uneasy feeling still hasn’t passed and if talking to the local wildlife makes you feel better then you’re not afraid to be judged for it.

It seems to be appeased by your reaction, whether it's the apology that does it or the fact that you're clearly moving on, and the stag gives one last snort before it launches off into the bushes again.

The sound of its galloping hoofbeats is swallowed by more wind and you wince against the chill it brings with it. Alone it’s bad enough but being even the slightest bit damp only enhances the feeling.

You suppress a shiver.

Before you leave, once he has the backpack over his shoulder again, Ford reaches into his back pocket and procures a little bag of what look to be shiny stones. They glint, even in the dark, and he empties them out onto the dirt where the mushrooms had been.

“Thank you!” He says aloud to nobody in particular, and then he pockets the bag again.

It’s your turn to look at him like he’s lost his mind and Ford catches the expression.

“For the fairies. They like shiny things,” he explains, like it’s obvious. It probably is to him. “If you take something from the forest, you always give something back. Otherwise the next time you come back they’ll make your life a nightmare, trust me.”

“You’re talking to fairies but I’m weird for talking to the deer?” You scoff, following after him as he starts back towards the way you came in.

“I never said you were weird,” Ford says, checking what looks to be his wristwatch before he guides you back towards the correct path out of the clearing. “I said I didn’t know that you could speak to them.”

‘Didn’t know’? That implies it is, in fact, a possibility to communicate with deer, doesn’t it?

“Wait…. Are you being serious?” You ask, curiosity piqued. “Is that possible?”

If the existence of all the creepy, beyond-natural things Ford has warned you about are real, and you know that they are, then is it really that much of a stretch to consider there might be some weird, hidden language the common deer speaks? Or perhaps some kind of thing that might allow you to do that?

If that is the case then you absolutely must know how to do it. It might not come in useful in everyday life but it would certainly be novel. Deer are privy to all sorts of secret goings on in the forest and you’re sure they’d be a great source of gossip.

Ford shrugs one shoulder as he walks beside you, smirking enigmatically.

Excitement surges through your gut.

“No way, are you serious?” you say earnestly, trotting alongside him. “Will you teach me? You have to teach me. Imagine all the stuff I could ask….”

Ford raises a brow. “Such as….?”

“God, I don't know….. I mean for one thing, what's it like being a deer? What kind of stuff have you seen? What's the-” You cut yourself off abruptly when you catch the look on Ford's face that he's been trying to hide in the collar of his trenchcoat.

He's very blatantly fighting laughter.

You deflate instantly.

“Oh, you asshole,” you huff, swatting at his arm. “There's no such thing, is there?”

Ford breaks finally, laughing the same deep, gravelly laugh that you've grown so fond of over the past year.

“I'm sorry,” he says, breathless with mirth. “Forgive me, you just seemed so invested, I couldn’t help myself.”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing along. You want to be more annoyed at his teasing, but if you’re honest it’s really quite nice to be teased by him. He’s clearly in a playful mood today and you’re elated that you get to be the main recipient of his prodding. You suppose it's fair game for him to give as good as he gets.

“I am serious about the fairies, though,” Ford adds after a moment. “They've quite the set of teeth on them.”

Teeth?

“Noted.”

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[seraphdreams]

NO PHOTOS — BAJI KEISUKE/KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

— CONTAINS. fem!reader, 3some, slight choking, praise/degradation, reader is referred to as sweetheart and doll, multiple rounds, tora is an energetic fucker. 18+ mdni.

— WORD COUNT. 4.0k

— NOTES. this is like my 50th repost cause i’m trying to not get flagged but i hope you enjoy the first addition to this miniseries. i really loved writing it all and i hope i don’t have to repost it again :( also listen to the song “no photos” by don toliver!

— LINKS. series masterlist — general masterlist.

They say rivalries could fuck up a friendship.

Not particularly for Baji and Kazutora though.

Rivalry was invigorating to them, something they needed in their day to day lives like water to survive, and even after their childhood years, they still found themselves battling against each other somehow. So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Kazutora when he arrived at Bonten’s freshly established headquarters, complete with its own separate hotel and casino, to see that his opponent was Shibuya’s best, Baji Keisuke.

A smirk then followed a laugh when Hanemiya thought over it more. Baji? It’d been years since he last saw his best friend, his only fond memory being attending Keisuke’s graduation; How strange of someone with their veterinary degree to take on racing. To each their own, he presumed.

In turn, however, Kazutora spent most of his time in jail. Trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went like a lost puppy with its unreliable owner. And at the end of every day, he promised himself he’d get better—He had to. And he did. Prison struck the opportunity for him to pick up new dexterities, other than his last hobby of breaking and entering. With that, he grew increasingly knowledgeable in the field of motorbikes. Once he got out, he landed himself a job at a local bike shop. Comfortable; the pay was great, he did what he loved, and when he was exceptionally lucky, he’d get to compete against others in his area, being an undefeated favorite as well.

Now with him settled into his suite, alongside his roguish roommate, the need for competition grew stronger.

“It’s been a minute, huh, Keisuke?” Kazutora sighs out, laying across the opposite side of his bed. Coming from Tora, it was rich. Rich in the sense that whenever it came down to the two going head to head back in Shibuya, Kazutora conveniently found himself sitting in a cell. “Sure has. I was startin’ to think your bum ass was scared of me.” Baji responds with a snicker, adjusting his head on the headboard of the luxurious hotel bed.

“Never. But hey..” Kazutora starts, sitting up straight and resting his weight against his hands behind him. From the shift in octave of his last vocables, Baji knew to listen intently despite aimlessly scrolling on his phone. Probably looking at bikes again..

“Y’seen that new girl Bonten’s been hoarding? Fucking gorgeous.” Kei’s focus flits immediately to Hanemiya. “New girl?”

If you could only see the look on Tora’s face when he described you, as if he’d seen an angel from Heaven and came back down to Earth just to report it back to Baji. It was entertaining to say the least, how expressive he got when telling Keisuke you were about this tall, and your hair was the sexiest shade of this color, and he can’t fucking forget about your body. Each dip and curve of your frame was engraved into his brain with so much depth that if he’d somehow end up with amnesia, he couldn’t forget—He wouldn’t forget.

“Sounds like a real peach. The hell they need her for?” Baji queries. The truth being, Bonten needed you as a morale booster. Someone to remind them they were human even after a gruesome day’s work, and of course at times they’d get distracted, bend you over the desk in God-knows-who’s office just to make the prettiest mess out of you. It kept their spirits high, and they were fun men so you didn’t mind as much as you should’ve.

Kazutora thought for a second on what his next words would be. Spontaneously, he asks, “Wanna find out?” The question didn’t quite register in Baji’s mind until Tora graciously added that you were the designated flag girl. What a shame it’d be if you didn’t get to know your racers a few hours before they become less than friends and more than foe.

—

Last night’s packing took an immense amount of your energy, leaving you only to manage a quick shower in the morning after less than a full night's rest. You blamed Haru; That forgetful bastard, only he would make the mistake of relaying to you that the flight leaves at 6 A.M instead of P.M, which forced you to scramble for time you thought you had.

When you finally arrived at your suite, you opted for a nap to rejuvenate lost time, and fortunately you had been granted the night shift at what was beginning to feel like your new part-time job. You slept soundly without distractions for the next few hours, and once you awoke, a necessary shower was in your presence.

It wasn’t until you stepped out of the shower that you noticed your phone buzzing on the counter, paired with an unknown caller ID at the top of the screen. Normally, you’d ignore it, wait for the ringing to stop and carry on with whatever plans you had for the day, but since Bonten had a particular way of wiring your phone, to say the least, who knew what business you could be called in for.

“Hello?” You hold the phone between your ear and shoulder as you drape the towel around your dampened body. A soft voice projects through the other line, so gentle as though it were merely a whisper. “Is this Y/N?”

You move on to heading out the bathroom and into the bedroom where you set the phone on speaker and begin to apply your smell-goods. “Mhm, what’re you calling for?” There’s a brief bout of silence from the other side until the familiarity of hearing that docile tone vacated and it was replaced by a deeper, brasher timbre. “Y’not busy, are ya? Gotta race in a minute ‘nd ‘m losin’ motivation, sweetheart.” The sentiment of the pet name had heat surging through your body.

This must’ve been what Rindou was talking about. And to think all that talk about needing to “stick close by his side” because the others were bound to want you, was just a scheme to be possessive. Maybe actually listening to Bonten could teach you a few things.

You weren’t dumb as to not realize who was on the phone. It clicked for you the moment you heard his voice. He was your Boss’s friend, the one you reigned attractive against the others in the photos he’d shown you. Mikey had warned you that he was an unpredictable man, but seeing as Sanzu was someone you dealt with on a daily basis (regardless of if you wanted to or not), Baji was nothing.

Surely, you weren’t too busy with anything, and a quick welcome visit couldn’t hurt. “Not busy at all. Which room are you in, Keisuke?”

Fucking hell. Just how cute can you get? Kei tries his hardest to not let the grin on his features go noticed, or to not let the excitement rush straight to his dick, yet he fails at both. “Na, Kazutora..” You could hear him on the other end calling for Tora’s attention. “What room are we in?”

You couldn’t hear Tora’s response over the phone but luckily Baji was gracious enough to repeat it a second time, not necessarily just for you to hear; but for emphasis. An allure, roughly.

Room 602 — Who knows what’s to come?

Luckily, you were provided with the cutest checkered set, a gift from Ran Haitani himself—complete with a teensy tiny skirt and tight little crop top that left no part of your chest to the imagination. Truly adorable, the way it had fit your body, the uneasy feeling of bareness waning away once you stepped into your platform Miu Miu heels.

After some twirling in the mirror, you felt ready enough to make your way to their suite. You knocked gently against the lacquered door, in contrast to how sturdy, heavy almost, it felt underneath your knuckles. The handle turns and the door is pulled from the inside, revealing the men who occupied the area.

They had to be over 6’0, the both of them. You weren’t expecting to be towered over within the first ten seconds of arriving, it was evident on their features that they found you rather cute. The one you came to recognize as Baji was posted against the wall with his arms crossed, sharp eyes taking you in gradually. Hmm, intimidating.

The other held the door open, a soft close-eyed smile on his face. Ran would make the same expression with you at times too. A dark mole near his right eye gave him a more feminine look in comparison to the raven haired male a foot behind him. He seemed friendly, this must’ve been the carrier of the dulcet voice you heard from before.

“Cute outfit, that what you’re wearing tonight?” Baji queries, relaxing his stance in the slightest. Kazutora pulls the door in more, allowing you ample room to slip past him and to shut the door behind you. It takes a while for you to slowly nod while taking in the view of their room. Bonten really outdid themselves when coming up with floor plans for the hotel because every inch of each square foot seemed to be crafted specifically to fit their divine tastes. Nevertheless, a golden view of the water from the window situated in the living space. “I’ll try not to ruin it then.” Huh? What does he mean by that?

Your focus hastily snaps back to the man before you, a sinister smirk quirking at his lips that reveals two sharp… fangs? He’s far more frightening in person.

A hand on your wrist enthusiastically guides you to their room, it’s Kazutora, sitting you down amongst the bedsheets. Baji follows behind him, sitting across from you two. “Tora, relax. You’ll scare her.” You giggle at Keisuke’s assertiveness, receiving an eyebrow raise from him as soon as the airy chuckles reach his ears. “‘m not scared.” You respond, hands placed over your bare thighs.

“You’re so cute, like a doll. You’d let us get to know you a bit?” Kazutora’s voice resonates from the side of you he sat beside. You turn to look at him only now noticing his golden-hued eyes.

Very pretty.

“Of course.” Your response came out in a reassuring tone, the pair falling harder and harder for you as each second passes. Kazutora’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him, the tips of his fingers dancing dangerously close to your inner thighs.

“You gotta boyfriend?” He sing-songs. Baji leans in closer despite only being two feet away, his hands folded and rested over his lap. “Not technically.” You chime out, feeling as though you’ll go dizzy from the tantalizing scent of the man beside you.

“Not technically?” It’s Baji’s voice you hear now. “I mean, ‘m not with Bonten, but sometimes they treat me like a girlfriend.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. Your relationship with Bonten could be described as something similar to a friends with benefits ordeal. Not quite, but not far off.

“Your little boyfriends would probably be disappointed if they found out you were here, huh?” In response to Baji’s question, you shake your head. “They don’t have to know.”

So perfect and so fucking dumb. What did they do to deserve you?

Kazutora’s hand trails up your abdomen, to your sternum, and right under your jaw where he grips your throat with the lightest pressure and angles your head upwards to meet his eyes.

Those same friendly orbs from before diminished into something colder, with the faintest hint of mirth behind them. “Be honest with me, pretty baby. Who do ya think is gonna win today’s race? Me, or Keisuke?”

Hypnosis is what it felt like when you stared into his eyes, attempting to muster up an answer that would satisfy both parties, although you just… didn’t know. Kei’s eyes narrow as they land on Tora’s, the quick glance they give each other filled with devilry.

“I-I don’t know.” You give him your final resolve. Kazutora releases his grip on you and moves his hands back to your thighs, slightly pushing them open to reveal the barely there panties you wore underneath your skirt. “Don’t know?” Hanemiya’s voice is whispered against the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “How ‘bout we show you? You’d like that?” Hands that were previously between your thighs find themselves tugging down your little shirt, kneading the flesh of your tits softly. You elicit a low whine, nodding your head as Baji situates himself between your thighs, using his sharp teeth to pull the fabric of your panties down until they hang off one ankle.

“Imma make ya feel fucking good.” His eyes lock onto yours as he uses his tongue to switch between flicking and sucking at your clit. Kazutora settles behind you, allowing you to somewhat rest against his back while he continuously plays with your nipples.

Baji’s tongue is dangerous, he’s messy. The feeling of the wet muscle in and out of your core causes a docile whine to reverberate from your throat. He keeps your shaky legs open with his large, calloused hands, his pointed nose inadvertently aiding in the pleasure stemming from your clit and the only way you can really react is by bucking your hips up like a desperate whore. You couldn’t help it, he knows he’s too good.

“Kei-Keisuke!” You stutter out, hand moving to tangle in his dark locks, tugging gently. He returns your whine with a groan, speeding up his ministrations which make your hole twitch around him, legs threatening to close any second. From his perspective, you looked like an angel. Everything about you so sweet, cute, and innocent. Just the thought of knowing how other men have had their way with you, gets him harder than a fucking rock.

It’s incredibly messy at this point. Kazutora’s lips take purchase on yours, kissing you sloppy and rough. His fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples cause you to go crazy, just a thread holding you back from your orgasm. You’re so incredibly wet too, Keisuke can’t even tell if the strings of slick dripping down the bedsheets come from his saliva or the growth of your arousal.

You can't take anymore at this point, opting to run away from the pleasure instead of giving in, but Baji’s hands grip hard around the fat of your thighs, keeping you still as he gives you a sharp glance, one that’s only a warning. Kazutora pulls away to recollect his breath, eyes scanning over the scene on display. There’s a dopey grin on his face that you miss as he watches your clit twitch. “Fuck, her pussy’s so pretty!”

“Gonna cum! L-Lemme cum!” Your voice is slurred, hips uncontrollably rutting into Baji’s mouth. He slows the jerking of his own hips against the mattress, pulling away from your heat and replacing the lost feeling with his fingers on your clit. He circles them against the nub with slight pressure, watching how your jaw drops open and sonorous mewls slip out.

“This whatcha wanted? Y’sound so pretty, even that pussy’s talkin’ ta me.”

You were too caught up in your own pleasure to even notice the raunchy squelches of your creamy cunt resonating throughout the room. How embarrassing.

It only takes a few more moments for your body to convulse under the sensation, your juices dripping down Kei’s arm and back arched against Kazutora’s chest. “Atta-fucking-girl! Look at that!” Tora coos. That signature smirk returns back to Baji’s features, mesmerized with the way your pussy pulses in orgasm. “We’re gonna have so much fun witcha tonight.”

Keisuke sits up, kneeling at one side of the bed, repositioning you so that you’re arched nice and pretty for him while Kazutora kneels at the other end, your face millimeters from his cock. Kei wraps five digits around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him to meet his eyes. You stare up at him with those angelic orbs, doe eyes rendering nothing behind them, just pure vacancy while you pout in the slightest, a reaction from his vice-like grip around your throat. “Y’gonna take it all for us?” A quiet mhm is muttered from your throat, Baji beaming down at you with his menacing smile, satisfied with your answer. “Be careful with Tora,” Keisuke lets his grip go and he leans down over you, whispering into your ear, loud enough for the other to hear. “He’s a throat fucker.”

He sits back up straight, unzipping his pants slowly before taking out his hard-on. If only you could see how much Kei leaked, just how huge it was. You could only guess when he teasingly slipped the tip in and out, entertained with the way you stretched around him. Kazutora, on the other hand, slides his length down your throat fully, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around his shaft, gradually building up a bobbing rhythm.

Kei wanes his teasing enough when he watches how well you envelop the half-blond. He slowly pushes into you at the hilt, sighing out a deep rasp before practically pounding your hole, leaving you no room to adjust to his massive cock.

God, his dick is fucking heavy. It stretches you out wide enough to the point where you feel as though your cunt can’t take anymore, all while your hands grip the sheets underneath you for leverage that only helps in the slightest. Tora’s hand grips at the hollow of your cheek while you continue to take as much of him as you can. He’s really trying his hardest to not let his hips take control and accept the pleasure you’re languidly giving him, yet he fails, letting his hips reel back and cock slip down your awaiting throat. His thrusts are hard in tandem with Baji’s, both the men using you to get off.

Little tears begin to pool at your waterline which Kazutora finds amusement in, fucking your throat at a faster, wilder pace. Vibrations from your throat shoot through the parameters of his length, eliciting a whimper which follows a groan. “So fuckin’ good, baby..”

A harsh slap stings across your ass once Keisuke finds his rhythm, the warmth and wetness of your hole inviting him in like he was just meant to be there. You wince in response, trying your hardest to not run from the pleasure. “Guess your men are good for something, cause fuck, you take it so well.” His hand slips down partially, enough for his thumb to enter your puckered hole, pumping the digit slowly. From this, your eyes roll into the back of your head, legs starting to feel like jello and even you can’t seem to keep yourself arched for him. “Y’got so tight after that, ‘s like you want me to cum in you.”

Your mind goes hazy, the only thing bouncing around in that empty brain of yours being the need to make a mess. Just the feeling alone of being used like a toy has your core tightening, the sign of your next orgasm. Tora’s grasp on your cheeks reach lower, the taut sensation of his hand now around your neck. He groans while watching as his cock struggles to fit down your throat. He could virtually grab his phone and record how he’s having his way with you, possibly use it for future reference when he’s alone and missing the warmth you give him.

“Ah shit, I think the little thing’s gonna cum. Is that right?” Keisuke goads, using both hands to pull your faltering hips back up. A tiny mhmm is sounded from your throat and he takes his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he coaxed your orgasm from you, spit dripping from your lips and around Tora’s shaft as a sheer layer of your essence coats the entirety of Keisuke’s cock.

The sight of it all has Tora’s eyes crossing and balls tightening, being the first to shoot his load into your mouth. He gradually slows his movements to a halt, pulling from your mouth to give you a chance to finally breathe. You’re gasping, practically choking when air settles back into your lungs, your body shaking from the overstimulation of Baji inside your heat.

There’s a hard thrust, then another before Baji releases inside you, creating a beautiful mosaic of the messes you both made. Quite the artist, he was.

Before you know it, you’re being manhandled into yet another position, this time being ass up for Kazutora and face to cock with Baji. Just how much stamina do these guys have?

Kazutora’s first to slip in, a more fucked out moan leaving his lips when he observes the way his cock slips easily into your cunt. You’re so fucking wet, he can’t think straight. Baji lines his length up with your lips, shallowly pushing in. “Just the tip, sweetheart. Wanna see if you know how to control yourself.” You wrap your lips around his plush tip, sucking harshly.

Tora finally starts to move. You’re just too fucking wet he can’t help it when he’s already getting carried away, fucking you senseless. Such a mess on his cock, he’s lost.

It was easier to take in as much as Baji prohibited but with the trajectory of Hanemiya’s thrusts, you’re going past your limit.

“Kazutora, slow the fuck down. You got her chokin’ on my cock more than she usually does” Baji hisses out, vexation fueling his arousal. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you’d probably apologize if you could, let the man before you know that you were totally capable of at least trying to keep control. Much to no avail, Kazutora refuses to ease up, instead letting pleasure overrun his senses.

It was loud. The sounds of skin slapping, mixtures of whining and groaning, anyone from outside the door could probably walk past and hear just how cute you sounded getting fucked out your mind. Maybe that’s what they wanted, the whole establishment to know that you weren’t just Bonten’s little slut, but theirs too.

The next few moments whizz by like nothing, your hole getting stuffed for a second time and your tongue met with the acrid flavor of cum. You’re splayed across the bed, heaving for air with fatigue growing inside you hastily. “So, who d’ya think was better? Me or Kei?” It’s that giddy tone that lets you know it’s Kazutora speaking. Both the men seem unaffected from the previous situations yet you're the one left winded. “Both..You both were really, really good.”

Kazutora makes a buzzer-like sound, as if you’d been mistaken in your resolve. “Wrong! There’s only one winner.” Baji scoffs at Kazutora’s antics, checking the time on his phone. “We should probably head out, seems like races’ll start soon.”

“Do me a favor, baby..” Baji’s words hang off the tip of his tongue purposefully as he makes his way to you, standing you up and adjusting your outfit back in place. “Be good and keep our cum stuffed in this tight little hole, or else your boyfriends’ll be real upset.”

He tilts his head in a mocking manner and you nod along.

A quick wave of goodbye and wishes of “good luck!” leave your lips as you finally leave the BajiTora abode. Tonight’s race should be interesting one.

— In the end, it was Kazutora who reigned victorious, leaving Baji to his first defeat. The victor didn’t matter to them, they just enjoyed it; enjoyed being together whenever they could. For sure, Chifuyu would have to hear about this once they get back home.

After your limited experience of waving around a flag while trying to keep your panties from revealing too much, you grew tired, quite frankly. There had to be other things to do once races completed.

“Wonder what Koko’s doing!”

[procyonloser]

"You fucking kidding me right now?!" Adam yelled, dropping his bags, though his guitar case stayed firmly in hand.

Across the front of his van, someone had painted the word, CHEATER, and that was just the first offense he'd noticed. They'd keyed up the paint job, which was a super fucking awesome duochrome that shifted from gold to orange to purple - fucking ruined now. On the side were a litany of worse insults, saying he had a small dick, that he was a man whore, that he was a shitty musician.

He knew who'd done it, and he wasn't even fucking dating the bitch. She was just a groupie he'd fucked a few times on the road; yeah, he'd fucked a few other girls, so what?

"I'm so going to take you to court, you stupid cunt." Adam hissed to himself, getting in the driver's side. But, the van wouldn't start at all. It wouldn't even try to turn over. It just did nothing. She must have fucked with the engine too.

Which left Adam standing on the sidewalk, fuming, as he waited for an Uber to show up. He didn't even fucking live here! He was just on tour! People all over wanted to hear him play, or they would after they heard him at least!

An unremarkable car pulled up along side him, and the passenger window rolled down, and a blond man in the driver's seat leaned over to smile up at him. "Need some h-"

"Fucking finally!" Adam complained, getting a startled look in return. "I've been waiting for you for like twenty goddamn minutes." Adam waved his Uber app at the man, and told him the code.

"Please, get in. I'm Lucky, by the way." The man said with a wide smile. "I have water in the back, if you'd like."

Adam was still fuming, but he tossed his stuff in the back seat, grabbing out a water bottle and jumping into the passenger seat. Yeah, he knew ubers didn't like that, but he didn't do back seats. He was always in front.

He chugged the water, and crushed the bottle, before tossing it out the window.

"Charming," Lucky said, in not so subtle distaste.

"Fuck you, you don't know the night I've had. Some cunt ruined my van, my gig went shitty, cus the bar was like, no you're supposed to pay me. Like shit I'm doing that. Fucking pussies. Chick run, obviously. Can't do anything right." Adam huffed, reaching down to adjust the seat, pushing himself back and getting a bit more leg room. "So suck a dick and just take me to my hotel, shorty."

"Sure," Lucky said, barely even blinking at the insults.

Adam closed his eyes, and began to feel increasingly drowsy. Well, he'd had a long night. "Wake me up when we get there," he mumbled, before sleep took him.

Adam woke up to a not so gentle slap across the face. He startled upwards, eyes wide, finding himself unable to move. He was restrained, cuffs around his hands and legs, and he was entirely nude.

"W...what the fuck? Where am I?" Adam whispered, horror setting in. He'd woken up with some hard 4s before, after getting drunk, but nothing like this.

"Morning," a voice called, and Adam looked up to find the cabby sitting beside him, smiling brightly.

"...Lucky?" Adam asked in confusion.

"Oh, my name is actually Sam, but the news calls me Lucifer." He reached down, caressing Adam's cheek with heavy lidded eyes, not caring that Adam tried to jerk back and away from him.

"I'm a serial killer, sweetheart. And from what I can see, no one particularly likes you, your girlfriend dumped you, your car was ruined, your band is a joke... It would make sense that you'd just...go missing? Wouldn't it?"

Adam's blood went cold, horror began to set in, even though he wanted to scream and shout and curse the man. He tried pulling on his cuffs, but nothing budged. His attention was drawn back to Lucifer as he pulled out a very sharp looking ritualistic knife.

"W- wait, wait! I can...I can help you!" Adam got out, and Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I can help you! I don't like people either! So, I'm not going to say anything about this, you know, I could even tell you about...I don't know, people alone in bars and shit!" Adam tried to persuade him, but he knew it sounded more like begging. "I can...I can be useful, I promise."

Lucifer hummed to himself, appraising him. "You'll be a good boy for me?"

Adam swallowed hard, nodding his head. For some stupid fucking reason, he started to get slightly hard from that.

"Maybe I'll think about it," Lucifer said, but Adam's relief didn't last. "But I can't have you getting away in the meantime. I need to clip your wings."

[lonelystczennie]

Babysitting

San x Reader

Summary: San helps you babysit for the day, and let's a little secret slip.

Word count: 600+

Warnings: mentions of having kids, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I'm not the best at writing about kids, so I'm sorry if this isn't quite what you wanted.💙

Masterlist

Requests are open

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When San came to pick you up for your lunch date, he thought it was slightly odd when you didn't answer the door right away, usually you tackled him in a hug before the bell had even finished ringing.

He considered ringing again, only to stop short when you opened the door, met by the surprising sight of you holding a baby who couldn’t be more than six months old.

“Did I miss something?” He asked, confused.

“No, this is Haru.” You explained. “My friend's babysitter canceled at the last minute, so I offered to look after her for the afternoon.” You adjusted your hold on the squirming infant. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called you earlier to reschedule, but it all happened so suddenly.”

“It's okay, we don’t have to reschedule.” He assured you, leaning down to stroke one of Haru’s chubby cheeks, instantly charmed. “Do you want some help?”

"Really?"

"Yeah, I like kids." He shrugged, cooing at Haru and making her giggle.

“Then yes, please.” You said, letting him in.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of feedings, nappy changes and trying your best to keep Haru content and happy, which turned out to be more of a challenge than you had expected.

You had been trying to put her down for a nap, but she was not having it, becoming increasingly agitated and crying.

“I don’t know what I'm doing wrong.” You lamented, almost in tears yourself at her distress.

“Can I try?” He asked, holding his hands out for the infant.

You passed her to him, watching warily as he tucked her against his chest, bouncing slightly as he walked round the room with her. In less than a minute, she had quieted, already beginning to doze in his arms.

“Why does she only stop crying when you hold her?” You asked, watching him in disbelief.

“She’s just got good taste.” He said, stopping when he caught your expression. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant-”

“I know, it’s fine,” You assured him. “I just…”

You didn’t finish the thought, pressing your lips into tight line, but he could read the worry in your eyes.

“You’re doing a good job, babies are just finicky sometimes.” He reassured you, thinking back to his own experiences looking after kids. “Don’t worry, it’ll be different with our kids.”

“Our what?” You looked up at him questioningly.

He froze again, eyes widening slightly as he realized his slip.

“I was just.. speaking hypothetically.” He said, unconvincingly, but you decided to let it go for the being, letting him bounce away from you again with Haru.

Later, after he'd managed to get her down for her nap and the two of you finally got to sit down together for a very late lunch, you brought up his earlier comment.

“So, you’ve thought about us having kids?” You asked, watching him carefully.

“I, uh… a little.” He admitted, glancing over at you nervously. “Is that bad?”

“No, it just surprised me a little.” You said. “I didn’t realize you thought about things like that for us.”

“I don’t, I mean, not really." He explained, trying to cover for himself. "It’s just one of those things that happens as a passing thought, you know?”

“Yeah, okay.” You said, grinning at his slightly flustered state.

“And it’s not like I wanna have them right now,” He insisted. “Just… maybe someday.”

"Maybe someday." You echoed.

It was quiet for a minute as you ate, before you decided to press him again.

“So how many do we have?”

“Three.” He answered immediately.

“Aha!" You exclaimed.

"What?!"

"It sounds like you've thought it about more than just a little!” You giggled, making him whine.

"Don't laugh at me!" He said defensively. “You asked me a question, what am I supposed to do, lie?”

“It’s cute though!” You said, still giggling.

At that moment, Haru decided to announce that she had woken up, crying loudly.

“I’ll go!” San said, jumping up quickly before you could say anymore.

You let him go, deciding you’d wait till after your friend had collected Haru to tell him how you'd thought about it too.

[am-i-interrupting]

Hello really like your posts, especially the Rosie/hazbin stuff.

If you're still doing requests I'd like to ask for ether f!reader accidently calling Rosie mommy in bed and her teasing them about it(NSFW it sfw up yo you) or f!reader giving Rosie a massage after a long day of overlord work

If you can't or don't wanna is cool I just wanted to give my thoughts thanks again much l. Love your blog

The Coil of Springs

Summary: You decided to treat Rosie, help her relax. Little did you know it would have the opposite effect on you.

Warnings: nudity, suggestive themes

You were not a processional masseuse by any means but Rosie seemed content enough. She was relaxed, completely relaxed beneath your touch.

She let out little noises that sparked a fire you tried to put out what seemed like every other second but was realistically every few minutes. You rolled your hand over a spot at the bottom of her neck and she moaned loudly.

“That’s perfect, dear,” she said. “Can you just— oh, like that.”

You’d clench your legs together if you weren’t straddling her back. Instead you opted for a long, slow breath.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Rosie was a busy woman. She was constantly fixing the problems of those in Cannibal Town. It was something she devoted most of her time to. However, it took a special type of person for her to reveal just how stressed the job made her. She’d chosen you to confine in.

You didn’t mind sharing the burden with her. In fact you were honored. Rosie was a very uptight woman so if this is what you had to do to help her loosen up, you’d gladly do it. You couldn’t help but wish though that you could ignore your own feelings while you did.

It was getting increasingly harder to not grind down against her.

You tried focusing on her. You focused on the way it was smooth and glistening from the massage oil. The way it bunched up when you pressed down with the ball of your hand or the tips of your fingers. The quick to disappear red marks from where your applied pressure.

Fucking Hell!

This wasn’t working.

It was just making things worse.

Rosie hummed before she tapped your thigh, signaling for you to get up. You moved to hover over her, thinking she just wanted to adjust her positioning like she had several times already but no. She moved to face upwards.

Now she was making things worse!

Oh, fuck!

Her entire torso was on a sinful display. Her collarbone (which should not be as sexy as it is, fuck her and her modesty), her breasts that moved up and down with each breath, her dull pink but perky nipples, her waist. Oh, she was just too perfect.

She grabbed your hands and placed them along her ribcage. “Could you be a dear and put some pressure here?” she asked.

You were helpless to do anything but comply. Your ran your fingers along her ribs, putting pressure between the devotes.

You could see her face as she made those small noises. The way she’d bite her lip or leave it agape. The furrow and then release of her brow. Her eyes closed at peace.

It was so beautiful. She was so beautiful.

You could ignore the coiling inside you if it meant she got uncoil.