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prentissluvr · 3 months ago

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the language of love isn't dead — dean winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, frenemies to lovers, petty arguments, ft. sam!, dean is annoying obviously <3, reader speaks latin (i used google translate and it is probably very wrong lol), kissing, one mention of a sexual innuendo, a few joking death threats, non-serious mentions of choking, poorly edited, 2.4K words. requested !

summary : you tend to compliment dean in the dead language of latin after fights so that he doesn't know what you really think about him.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

“you’re being ridiculous,” you frown at dean, arms crossed against your chest as you stare him down in tonight’s motel room.

“ridiculous?” he parrots, indignant. “this is baby we’re talking about. my car. you know, the ‘67 black chevy impala i would kill a man over?”

“yeah, i know her,” you reply, sarcastic in tone. “and your homicidal tendencies when it comes to her. i’m very familiar, dean.” you roll your eyes at him because you just can’t help it. dean makes it very easy to get annoyed at, for a multitude of reasons.

reason number one, he’s annoying. reason number two, he’s very hot when he’s angry. reason number three, he’s very hot pretty much all the time. it does not help that sam got first dibs on the shower, so he’s still covered in a bit of grime and blood from the hunt you just walked away from. it’s his best look, aside from any time that he smiles.

“well, then you should know that getting her perfectly tended to and polished leather seats dirty with wendy’s barbecue sauce is like a goddamn felony and i should sentence you to life of never even stepping foot near my car again,” he fires back, and if you didn’t know him well, which you do, you’d venture to guess that he’s joking. he’s not.

you groan in frustration. “for the last time, i did not get barbecue sauce on your car seats,” you insist.

“i saw you sneaking fries before we got to the room,” he counters, narrowing his eyes at you. “you could have gotten grease on the leather too.”

“i ate two fries dean, and i was careful. i used a napkin and i did not open my barbecue sauce!” you spit back at him. you can’t believe you’re arguing about this right now. except that it is so believable and so like you and him. it’s not like either one of you is going to back down, certainly not about something so petty and meaningless.

“then how come i found some in the back seat?” he says for what feels like the millionth time.

you throw your hands up in the air. “i don’t know! i don’t even use my barbecue sauce for my fries. there’s no reason for me to have opened it!” you argue, huffing out a frustrated sigh. “and how do you even know it was barbecue sauce?”

“it looked like barbecue sauce, it wasn’t there yesterday, you’re the only one who orders it and the only one who’s sat in the back since then. therefore, barbecue sauce,” he admonishes, crossing his arms over his chest to punctuate his point. you can’t help but laugh at him a little bit. he just sounds so ridiculous.

“well then, let’s say it was barbecue sauce—which it wasn’t. did the leather get damaged?” you ask pointedly.

“that doesn’t matter!” he practically rages, taking a step towards you. god, he’s beautiful and you hate him for it (you really, really love him for it). “what matters is that you got it dirty!”

“jesus, dean! just drop it, your car is fine!” you chastise, your voice raising a little in volume as you take another step towards him. you can see his light freckles better now. they’re so goddamn pretty it makes you want to choke him.

“just drop it?” he repeats, fuming. “i will not ‘just drop it.’ this is about baby. i can’t ‘just drop’ something about baby! how can i even trust you enough to let you in my car again, huh?” this is the point where he’s serious, but not that serious. there’s clear frustration and anger in his voice, but he’s stuck with you and he knows it. and when he asks that final question, his volume lessens and he shrugs. he’s looking for you to grovel or offer something to appease him. the question is whether or not to give him that. your instinct is, of course, to not. you let out a huff of breath.

“well, maybe because i’m excellent company in the car,” you suggest, a gloating tone making its way into your voice. “and i like your music better than sam does. which means we always outnumber him. that’s very important.”

he’s unimpressed, clearly. “you gotta come up with something better than that, sweetheart,” he goads.

you curl your lip at him and roll your eyes. “you absolutely suck, dean,” you state. he raises his eyebrows and you groan and roll your eyes yet again. that’s not the word to use around him unless you want a sexual innuendo thrown in your face. “you are absolutely horrible, dean,” you amend.

he laughs at you and his annoyance mostly subsides. “which means i have no problem getting back at you tenfold for getting goddamn barbecue sauce on my car seat.”

“te respicere bonum cum iratus es, ita dampnas,” you grumble, shaking your head and glaring at him. like tradition, you end the argument with a certain latin phrase full of choice words.

now dean, sweet, lovely, silly, gorgeous dean, has no idea what you’re saying. he doesn’t care to learn enough latin for that. he doesn’t need to know, he thinks. your tone of voice says it all. he thinks those choice words are the type that one fills an insult with. today you tell him, “you look so damn good when you’re angry.” which, funnily enough, is not an insult.

it’s the perfect way of looking him in the eye and just spitting it out. you get to say without consequence what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, what you want to tell him so badly. it’s not the same as him knowing, but it helps. it eases your tension until the next time, it softens the blow a little.

sam fails to hold in his laugh behind you. you whirl around and glare at him, freshly dressed and out of the shower. you hadn’t even heard him leave the bathroom. narrowing your eyes at him, you tell your long time best friend, say something and you die. he puts his hands up in surrender, still laughing at you a little.

“shut up,” you grumble, then turn back to dean with a scowl.

“what was that little nerd exchange?” dean teases, realizing sam understood what you said.

“nothing,” you glower. “i’m showering now!”

dean throws his hands up in protest. “you’re making me shower last after getting barbecue sauce on my car?”

“dean, i swear to the lord in heaven, if you–”

“fine, fine!” he relents, the sarcasm and teasing still clearly present in his voice. “you’re right, you should shower first, you probably have barbecue sauce all over ya.” you raise your fist in a threat and it’s dean’s turn to put his hands up in surrender. “i’m just saying!”

“stop saying!” you groan. “just– stop talking, i’m gonna lose my mind.” if i have to stare at your gorgeous face and listen to your gorgeous voice for another second i will go crazy. you sigh heavily. god, you wonder if you could survive not kissing him. monsters and demons and all the strange shit in the world… that’s fine. it sucks but, jesus, at least you know how to deal with them.

but doing it all with dean? you have no idea how to deal with that. so far, it’s by arguing with him, complimenting him in a dead language, and keeping him at an arm’s length. and so far, it’s not working out too well, because you still want him. you still want him to want you back. you still wish and wish and wish that the language of love isn’t dead, not for you and him, not yet, at least.

maybe the shower will help. this motel doesn’t have the worst showers; the water pressure is decent and the water stays hot for a while longer than some others.

you’re not annoyed when you finish, at least, not about his stupid accusations of you getting condiments on his car seats. unfortunately, you are still annoyed about how attracted you are to him. even more unfortunate, you suppose, is that you’re attracted to him, period.

you sigh because you can’t bring yourself to actually try not to be. not that anyone can reverse feelings, but you let your feelings run rampant, more than you should sometimes. you let him eat away at your heart like a goddman movie zombie that’s too stupid to remember it eats brains. then, you figure that the thought of him eats away at your brain too, because he messes with your rationality sometimes.

his eyes are on you as you leave the bathroom and you wonder if sam’s tattled on you. when you shoot him a look he shrugs and shakes his head. you’re not convinced, but you let it slide. you plop down on the pullout couch bed and pack your old clothes away, ignoring dean’s heavy gaze. only when the door to the bathroom opens and closes do you flop against the bed with a heaving sigh.

“i hate your brother,” you grumble, barely loud enough for sam to hear as the muffled sounds of the shower turning on hits your ears. you turn to your side and curl up, not even bothering to pull the sheet over yourself.

you can’t see sam, but you hear him scoff from his spot on his own bed. “sure you do,” he quips, completely sarcastic.

“no, i really, really do,” you insist, not meaning a word of it.

“well, he hates you too, then,” he answers, voice heavy with implication. you know what he means because he knows what you mean. hate, of course, is love.

“no, he doesn’t,” you counter, sad about it. you bet that no one’s ever sounded so disappointed that someone doesn’t ‘hate’ them.

“you’re hopeless.” sam’s probably shaking his head at you as he reads the words on the book in his lap.

“i’m hopeless,” you sigh.

⟢⟢⟢

it’s not until a few days later that dean confronts you about your little latin digs at him. sam did tattle, only because he’s tired of your pining, but dean won’t tell you that. he’s smart enough to know you’ll end up with your hands around sam’s neck if you end up finding out, and he’s not trying to have his… person strangle his little brother.

“hey, idiot,” he starts, the word layered with affection. “why do you always insult me in latin? sorta feels like you lose the point of insulting someone to their face like that.”

he’s leaning against the hood of his car, beer in hand like always. it’s oddly uncommon to find yourself like this; outside, alone with him. the motel’s not busy and there are barely any other cars in the parking lot, and even less people. it’s just you and him as far as you can see. the night air is mild, cicadas singing as summer begins to slip away.

“well… maybe the point is that you know i’m saying something about you, but you don’t know what,” you shrug, sort of proud of the smooth answer. you’re not even lying. inside, you’re panicking a bit. this is dangerous territory.

“the stuff you’re saying is that horrible, huh?” his tone suggests a joke. his eyes suggest otherwise. it makes you pause.

how unfair is it, to the both of you, to lie? to even joke that you’d say such mean things about him? about dean winchester, whom you know sort of hates himself. who has just two people by his side, you and sam.

and you, who only argues with him because it’s easier than being nice. you, who deserves what you want but won’t let yourself even try to have it.

“no,” you sigh out. “i’m not saying horrible stuff about you.” you don’t look at him, you don’t mess around. you take the joking in his voice and strip it away. you take the look in his eyes and put it in yours. it makes him look at you, for once. it’s easy to imagine his eyebrows raising, his lips caught somewhere between his signature smirk and a curious frown. “not in latin, anyways,” you add, letting a huff of laughter leak into your bitter voice.

dean keeps looking at you. you know you’re supposed to explain after saying something like that, but you’d much rather not.

“no?” he asks finally. now you have to say something more.

“no,” you confirm, still staring at the trees across the street instead of him. the street lights are orange in color, and it feels either cruel or hopeful that it’s such a beautiful night. “i… say it in latin because it’s something nice. and you can… ignore this, if you want. i say it in latin because i like you a lot, dean. y’know, more than a stupid, fucking friend.” you roll your eyes a bit, like you’re upset with yourself. then you swallow thickly and ignore the fact that you can see him in your peripheral vision. he doesn’t look like he normally does. he doesn’t look angry.

dean is torn between teasing you and kissing you. you sound mad about the fact that you have feelings for him, like you wish you didn’t. ‘more than a stupid, fucking friend’ is a real funny way to phrase things, if he’s honest with himself. the question is, does he say that to you, or does he look for something better to say? he’s not good with ‘better things to say,’ whatever that might be.

“a little aggressive for a love confession, no?” his voice isn’t even that teasing. it’s sort of gentle. he wants to slap his hand over his mouth for saying that godforsaken four letter word. you had said ‘like.’ it’s freudian slip, he supposes, since he loves you.

“this isn’t funny, dean,” you murmur, voice sort of defeated. and yet, you hear it. it’s not funny to him either. he wasn’t trying to be funny, he was trying not to feel. he was trying to say at least something, because he was having trouble coming up with anything else.

“i know,” he relents. he draws in a deep breath. “will you look at me?” your lips part, then close. you blink a few times. you turn your head and look at him. god, he loves you back. he’s got to, or there’s no other way to explain how he looks at you.

and there’s definitely no other way to explain him kissing you. he looks you right in the eyes and he leans in until his lips are touching yours.

his eyes flutter closed, yours follow. you kiss him back, he kisses harder. the language of love isn’t dead. all you had to do was say something.

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bakugoushotwife · 1 year ago

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kinktober day five: size kink

>>> so obviously there is no other option size kink and toji fushiguro are synonymous in my book! i do call him zen'in in this so i guess we can be mama fushiguro lmao! i hope you guys are having a good time with kinktober so far :D

>>> starring toji (zen'in) fushiguro x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: size kink duh, daddy kink i'm not apologizing anymore, reader is stuck in a washer, doggy, oral (fem receiving), reader is used to shit men lol >>> wc: 2.3k >>> event masterlist

toji is massive, in every form of the word. he’s tall, towering over most people he comes across at his looming stature. most of the time, tall people were lanky and lean, slender with limbs that stretch for days. he didn’t fit the stereotype. toji was beefy, his biceps were the size of your head and his hands could cover your entire face. his arms aren’t where it stops either, his chest is broad; he’s so impossibly wide, always struggling to find clothes that fit him right. not that you mind too much of course, watching those poor t-shirts try to contain him rile you up to no end every time. he was always there to grab whatever you needed off of high shelves, changing lightbulbs and dusting the ceiling fans because it was all too easy for him to do. he was ridiculously strong, able to open even the tightest of jars and sweep you into his arms like it was nothing. it wasn’t like you ever overlooked toji’s size, it’s just that you never thought yourself all that small.

in fact, you struggled with your figure a bit, never quite knowing where you fit in for most of your life. boys either made you feel too insecure over your size or only ever wanted you for that curvy and voluptuous figure. at first, toji was no different, knowing how to talk at a beautiful girl when he sees one. he approaches you, lays out some dirty and cheesy pick up line that’s not even remotely close to original, and is honestly surprised when you snort through your nose and roll your eyes.

“i had more hope outta you, you were actually cute.” you sneer, quickly turning to keep walking down the quiet streets without any more trouble. and that was it–you really weren’t going to give him a second glance even though you admitted he was attractive? he had never really been turned down before, his looks alone enough to open any door. seems with a body like that you were used to gross one-liners.

“hey, little lady, wait.” he said, his voice a little softer than it had been when he was hitting on you before. you had already walked a few feet away, but noticing the slight change in disposition, you halted. “maybe that was a bit much, i got ahead’a myself.” he says, tilting his head down in an apology. “let me make it up to ya?”

your eyes narrowed at him. his arms were folded over his chest, the fabric of the struggling shirt expanding to its fullest potential. his hair ruffled a bit with the warm breeze that blew through, the color of his locks as dark as the night sky—though his eyes shone like the stars above too, something in the green expanses of the hazy orbs twisting your gut and making you decide that if anybody deserves a second chance, it was this sexy stranger. could you even be that angry at him for his lewd comment when you were eyeing him down too, only thinking of his physical attributes?

at your hesitation he speaks again. “let me walk you home. it’s late, and like i said, you’re very pretty.” he raises his brow as if asking one final time. you breathe some air out through your nose, suspiciously looking him up and down at the offer. “no funny business, just protection, little lady.” he swears with his hands by his head.

you hum, nodding your head for him to follow you as you start walking, hips swinging and hair swaying. when he thinks back on it maybe he fell in love right here, watching you stomp towards your house with way more attitude than your tiny body should contain, doing your damndest to try and play hard to get. but toji’s no fool. he follows you, he increases his strides to catch up with a small effort, but he’s walking beside you with a smug look on his face.

he makes meaningless chit-chat, learns about some of your hobbies and about your job. he gets your phone number, and apologizes one last charismatic time before you shut the door of your apartment and he’s walking back home, thinking of how he rarely plays the long game for a woman. but he knew you were worth it, the perfect little thing to brighten his days.

unlike you, toji realized how tiny you were immediately. sure, you were curvy and your chest and ass definitely were not small–you even had a little tummy to you, but you were just so short and compact, he knew he could manhandle you like a toy. not to mention how cute and bratty you were, he was all but compelled to be your man and fuck that attitude right out of you.

so the long game he played, talking to and courting you like a proper adult, though it isn’t long until you’re accepting him into your home and letting him tame that bratty streak of yours.

and you’re so glad you decided to give the ginormous stranger another go. he earns his place in your heart and in your home in under a year, and you’ve been grateful for his presence around the house. he makes you feel safe and protected, your own personal security guard. no place could be safer than those hulking arms trapping you to a chest at least two times as wide as yours. his hands always felt so warm and rough against your frame, seeing them against your body always made you feel like the daintiest thing in the whole world. god, and the way those enormous fingers moved inside your little hole—

maybe that’s why you thought you thought you could rely on the burly man you’ve come to love to be the perfect boyfriend he’s shown you he can be, despite the weird looks you get walking around in public with toji zen’in. you never minded the whispers or the rumors of his reputation, you knew him better than anyone, another reason you thought that when you screamed out his name for help, that he’d come running to your rescue.

to which in part, he did, to his credit. when he heard your voice far away in the laundry room hollering for him, sounding a little too afraid for his comfort, he was there in an instant. but rescuing? nah. he couldn’t help but laugh at your compromising situation. you’re face first in the top load washer, your top-half completely invisible, ass and legs squirming in the air. of course you’d fall in, the height of the washer was something you often complained about; you had to basically crawl inside the machinery to get clothes in and out, and it annoyed you to no end. now, the worst had happened and here you are. you couldn’t even just push yourself out due to how high your legs dangle, you’d surely fall.

you know what they say, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and as good as toji has been to you, he can’t repress the perverted fantasy his mind drums up at the sight of your tiny body stuck in the washer. you kick your feet harder at the sound of his laughter, to which he can only belly chuckle harder.

“you need some help, darlin’?” he teases, large hands wrapping around your ankles, halting your kicking immediately. he holds your legs there by his thighs, standing between them. he smirks down at your fat ass jiggling and recoiling as you try to squirm your way up the washer. he chuckles at your failures and the sounds of frustrations that follow, until you finally whine out for help.

“toji— just get me out of here.” you pout flatly, folding your arms over your chest inside the barrel. he chuckles deeply again, sliding his hands up your bare legs until they came across the mounds of your ass. he squeezes the flesh almost tenderly.

“but little lady,” he hums as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and slowly drags them down your legs. he has to kneel to get the garment completely off, but he doesn’t mind. he decides kneeling is advantageous for him, especially once he sees your pretty little hole clenching around nothing, just eager to be filled. “ya look like a little toy from down here,’nd i’m thinkin i oughta play.” he has to spread your ass cheeks a little bit to see you in all your glory before he leans in to lick a stripe from glistening slit to your puckering asshole. he growls at the flavor, something he just can’t stop himself from doing no matter how many times he gets to taste you. you can feel the soft tickle of his hair against the insides of your thighs, the searing heat of his tongue making your squirm back against him in a desperate search for more.

you should have known toji would be greedy, taking advantage of your inability to move and abusing that to the fullest. he laps at you, shoving his fat tongue into your tiny little hole, fucking it wider for his cock to use. after all these months of him fucking you open, you were still so tight and small. you hug even his tongue, silky wet walls making his eyes roll back a little bit. his large hands hold your asscheeks, kneading like a kitten making biscuits, even though it felt more like a lion pawing at you. you taste so good, it has his cock jumping against his zipper and begging for freedom. he decides to deny himself that simple pleasure, focused on driving more of those cute little whimpers from your lips. the tunnel of the washer was amplifying all your sounds, and he felt the torture of not having your tiny cunt wrapped tight around his cock every passing second.

you were panting, beginning to feel dizzy from being nearly upside down. every stroke of toji’s tongue massaging your fluttering entrance and the intensity of his deft fingers flicking your clit combined sent you spiraling, both physically and literally, towards the edge. he can’t help but lean back and watch the way you fuck yourself back on his mouth for more, picking up the pace of his fingers to send you over your limit. it’s so cute to watch your thighs clench down and shiver as you cum, screeching and begging for his dick next.

and who was the feared sorcerer killer to deny such a sweet request from his beloved? his pants are off, belt clinking against the floor. you ready yourself, feeling the rough warmth of his hands envelop your sides and his hips cleave your thighs apart yet again. he’s so strong, he doesn’t even have to use his hands to toss you around, positioning you exactly the way he needs you to fuck you into pieces. his cock splits your lower lips and he unceremoniously bottoms out, eyes clenched shut at how your tiny cunt grips him. your jaw drops with the feeling of being so full at once, his cock just as broad and long as the rest of him. he kisses your cervix before he’s even started moving and you’re already squirming and crying like always. the stretch burns, every time feels like your first with toji. especially like this, you’re bent in half and he’s so deep in doggy that you’re seeing stars—though that could be due to the dizziness swirling around your head.

“so tight f’me like always, gorgeous.” he chuffs, drawing back to the tip and plowing his length back in, entranced by how you clench and release around him. you mewl your acknowledgement, your hips eagerly moving back against him for more friction, his strokes deliriously slow.

he notes your impatience, amused.

“need more, little thing?” he teases, licking his smirking lips at the sound of your pathetic whines and kicks. you nod eagerly, realizing he can’t see it.

“yes, daddy, please! need you to make me cum–”

before you can finish your sentence, he’s punishing you for asking for it. this angle is so unforgiving, you can feel every vein decorating his shaft as he destroys you, the tip colliding with your womb so hard it has your toes curling and vision going white. his grunts are so low and delicious, a reward for the perfect pussy you offer him nightly. it’s so good, he can’t stop until he beats your insides into the shape of the dick making you scream right now.

your ass bounces around his thrusts, absorbing every snap of his hips into your unsuspecting and fragile body. he loves watching you break, like his own personal little doll.

“cum–daddy oh my god i’m gonna cum so hard!” you whine, thrashing.

“oh coat this cock, babygirl.” he groans, feeling himself letting go, unable to fight back against your vice grip anymore. “cum with me, need to feel it.” his head falls back as you spasm around him, the vision of your little pussy accommodating his size too much to bear.

“god, please toji!! cum, cum, i need it so bad.” you whimper, your voice so breathy and tired, so beautiful as you beg for his load. it’s already established that he can’t deny you, so he doesn’t. he slides his cock in and out of your slick one last time, hissing as his balls tighten and explode into your cunt, white-hot and heavy. it fills you to the brim like it always does, even when his enormous dick withdraws from you and the mix starts to escape down your thighs you still feel impossibly full.

finally, he rights you onto your feet, his strong steady hands keeping you upright as you wobble a bit. when your vision stops spinning and you bring yourself to open your eyes again, you’re met with toji’s smirking face. his eyes are lazy with amusement and love as he looks at you, giving you an affectionate pat to the head.

“kinda wanted to leave you there ‘nd keep usin’ ya like that.”

#kyleewritesjjk #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #jjk x reader #toji thirst #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji zenin #jjk toji #fushiguro toji #toji zenin x reader #toji x size kink

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sweetlittlefawntears · 1 month ago

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♡ my, my girl ♡

au : divider by chilumitos ! sorry i haven’t posted in a while i’ve been so tired n not motivated at allllll but im here haha i wanted to do more brothers best friend ellie ahhhhh i hope u all enjoy n sorry this isn’t that good like i said im feelin v unmotivated haha ;; i know i said yes to requests but i literally cannot do them rn please please bear with me

cw : DONT LIKE DONT READ !! virgin!fem reader x brothers best friend ellie williams , ellie is a bit of a perv , ellie dosent know how to convey her feelings so sometimes she’s mean (lol she’s a loser) , oral (reader receiving), NOT PROOFREAD DONT COME FOR ME ITS ONE AM. that’s it i think ?

wc : 1.8k

౨ৎ your brother had a best friend named ellie for as long as you could remember. she was gorgeous, with emerald green eyes that shone beautifully in the sun, and short auburn hair that looked so soft and cute as it fell around her face and ears.

౨ৎ you walked downstairs from your room, tired from studying and being holed up in your room all day. as you walked downstairs, you saw ellie and your brother sitting together in the kitchen, talking. you usually didn’t pay them any mind, but ellie kept staring at you. you hadn’t realized she would be downstairs, and were caught off guard when you realized she was standing in the middle of your kitchen.

౨ৎ as you walked downstairs, you moved to grab a glass from the cabinet behind ellie, but she didn’t budge. “can you move, please?” you say, exasperated. “look who finally came out of her cave!” ellie said, teasing you. you rolled your eyes as ellie finally stepped out of the way so you could get your glass. you walked over to the fridge, and ellie liked the way she could see your legs and thighs. you weren’t wearing much, just some small shorts and a white tank top, since you didn’t think anyone would be over at your house today. you also weren’t wearing a bra, because why would you do that in your own room? well, it was a bad idea, because ellie could see the entire outline of your body under the tight clothes you were wearing.

౨ৎ “damn, you showin’ off or something?” she says as you sip water from your glass. you glance at your brother, who is too obsessed with his phone to notice anything. “huh?” he says, looking up from his phone, oblivious. “cmon, let’s go watch something” he motions to the living room. ellie follows him, not paying any other glance to you.

౨ৎ later that night, you hear ellie and your brother fighting, no doubt over some stupid video game, or who won the fight they had just gotten into. you walk around your room, bored, but not wanting to go talk to your brother, because that meant seeing ellie.

౨ৎ you eventually decide to just take a shower and call it a night. you gather your things, grab a towel, and head to the bathroom when you see ellie standing right outside your bathroom door. you grab onto the towel you’re holding, and try not to act angry. “did you need something?” you say. “going somewhere?” ellie says in return. “i’m about to take a shower…?” you point to the fluffy white towel in your arms. ellie looks away, and grabs the back of her neck, rubbing it. “fuck, ellie, don’t imagine her naked…” she thinks to herself as she looks at you. “i was just gonna ask if you…wanted to watch a movie with us, but i guess- you uh…” she stutters.

౨ৎ “are you feeling okay?” you asks not used to seeing ellie like this. usually she was making some snide remark at you or pushing you around, trying to get you mad or riled up. she loved it when you were angry, it was so cute, like a little tiger. “i’m fine. are you?” ellie says, deflecting. “right. i’m gonna take that shower now.” you say, opening the door to the bathroom.

౨ৎ after your shower, you get out and walk into your bedroom, slipping on a cute pajama set, a small light gray baby tee and little gray shorts. it was your favorite. you were about to flop down on your bed and tuck yourself in to read your favorite book when you heard a slight knocking at your door.

౨ৎ you got up, a little annoyed that someone had interrupted your relaxing alone time, walked over to the door and opened it ready to tell whoever it was to go away when you saw ellie standing there. it was strange; she had never come up to your room like this before…

౨ৎ “hey. can we talk?” ellie said, and without waiting for your permission she stepped into your room. “nice room.” she commented, looking around. “what is it?” you asked timidly, seeing her walk around and pick up small trinkets and photos on your dresser.

౨ৎ “well…” she said, putting down a picture of you and your brother and turning to take a step closer to you. “we havent always gotten along, but..i never realize that youve gotten so..” she trailed off, wondering how to not sound creepy (which she totally was) talking about how much different you looked. how much more beautiful you looked lately…

౨ৎ “gotten so…what?” you say, honestly curious about where she was taking this. “cmon, you know. you…look good.” ellie said, eyeing you up and down slightly. “and you’re saying this, why?” you ask, slightly bratty since you felt it was your right, after all, she was so rude to you all the time, and never missed a chance to tease you. “cmon, puppy, youre cute. you know what i mean.”

౨ৎ and there it was. that stupid nickname she had given you. “puppy” might have sounded sweet, but ellie only teased you when you were younger for being naive, hence the nickname. but that was in the past, the nickname seemed so different now, almost loving.

౨ৎ she stepped closer to you, reaching out to touch your arms. “cmon, i see the way you look at me now too. i like you, ok?” she said, a little sternly, as if she was trying to convince you to even be in the same room as her. “ellie, this is-“ but she cut you off before you could continue by cupping your face and kissing you.

౨ৎ “are you okay?” ellie said, pulling back to see your flustered face. you took a minute to get used to the feeling of her actually wanting to touch you, to be near you, but once you had gotten over that, all you wanted was to feel her lips on yours. you were nervous, you’d only been kissed a few times and you could tell ellie wanted to do a bit more than just that.

౨ৎ you were pressed against the wall next to your bed, whimpering under her. “needy, huh?” she said, pressed her right knee between your legs. “i like patient girls, y’know.” as she grinded against you, giving you the friction you so desperately craved, you couldnt help but moan softly into her mouth as her tongue brushed your lips, silently asking to be let in. of course you spread those pretty lips of yours to let her taste every inch of your mouth, faint sounds coming from both of you as you kissed filling room with a sinful air of lust and heat.

౨ৎ eventually you two make your way over to your own bed, sitting in ellies lap with your back pressed against her chest, ellie comfortingly shushing you and reassuring you that she would take good care of you. “shh, bun, s’okay. ive gotcha.” she said soothingly as she pulled down the little gray shorts you were wearing and tossing them to the side of your bed.

౨ৎ as her hand trailed down, further towards your panties, slipping under the soft cotton, she felt the wetness of your cunt under her slender fingers. “this your first time…?” she asked, rubbing gentle circles around your clit. “well- thats…” you trail off. “none of my business?” she finishes your sentence for you. “s’okay if it is, bun.” she says as she continues to circle your pearl, drawing out whimpers from you.

౨ৎ ellie puts her hand over your mouth. “sorry bun, s’much as i like hearing those pretty sounds, you dont want your brother to know about this, do you?” she was right, like always. you shook your head slightly, almost unable to comprehend anything except the way her soft fingers felt touching you. “so, so wet for me…” she says among other praises.

౨ৎ “you think you’re ready bun?” she says, sliding her fingers towards your sweet entrance. “mhm…” you said, almost shaking with anticipation, holding onto her forearm, her other hand still gently covering your mouth. as she slides two fingers inside you, you grip onto her thigh as she continues to slowly push her fingers in and out of you. “so good, bun. just like that.” she said as you moaned softly each time she pulled out of you.

౨ৎ “you look so cute like this..i wish i couldve seen it earlier.” ellie said, smiling to herself at the proud moment of being able to be the first one to have you like this. “taking my fingers so well, huh?” she said, not even expecting a reply as you were already too fucked out to think for yourself.

౨ৎ “you can cum whenever you want, bun.” she said. usually she wouldve made you beg for it, or been a little mean, but there was something about how sweet and pure you looked taking her fingers, sitting between her legs on your own bed committing such a sinful act that enticed her so much she couldnt wait to feel you lose yourself and cum all over her fingers.

౨ৎ as you whimpered softly under her, she moved the hand over your mouth to softly stroke your thigh. “s’okay, just be quiet…” she said as she comforted you, still pushing those damn fingers in and out of you. it didnt take long after that for you to cum, trying to hold back your moans, and of course she praised you the whole way through.

౨ৎ “aw, you just look so so cute like this…” she said, looking at your face, slightly flushed and sweaty from the way she had made you feel. without missing a beat she slowly pulled her fingers out of you, and, since she was ellie, bringing them to her mouth to lick them clean.

౨ৎ as you layed on her, breathing still heavy, she got up and guided you to the bathroom, cleaning you gently and whispering sweet nothings and apologies for you being overly sensitive. the coldness of the bathroom and the warmth of her body and hands on you, and the way ellie helped you step into a fresh pair of panties felt so loving to you.

౨ৎ as you laid next to her in your bed, she softly stroked your hair, watching you as you fell asleep, kissing your cheek and cuddling you from behind. she hoped you would still feel good about this in the morning.

౨ৎ it was definitely safe to say that your first time being with ellie was exactly the way it was supposed to happen.

HAIII thank you for reading im literally so fucking tired and this is so so so shitty i swear on my life i hate this but i really reallllyyy wanted to post for you all :( im sorry for not getting to requests i will try my best but like i said ive been so so sooo unmotivated, anyways ENOUGH PITY PARTYING hopefully someone will enjoy this AHHHH

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #fluff #the last of us #smut #tlou #tlou2

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gunnerfc · 9 months ago

Text

(Un)Stuck | Alexia Putellas x Barça!Reader (18+)

Summary: Part 2 to Stuck found here -> “Stuck Part 1”

Warnings: bottom reader, top alexia, strap on use (r receiving), a tad bit of oral (r receiving), nipple sucking, degrading, hate fucking i guess lol, a little angsty at the end

WC: 1.5K

AN: could not for the life of me come up with a better title 😵‍💫

You let Alexia guide you down the familiar hallway towards her door at the end, thoughts clouded with thoughts of the midfielder. When you reached her door, you watched your captain struggle to unlock her door, clearly affected by your presence. You smirked to yourself, enjoying that despite breaking up, you could still drive Alexia crazy.

After what felt like forever, the blonde threw her door open, pulling you through the threshold with her. Alexia kicked the door closed with her foot and you were roughly pushed against the surface. Alexia’s lips found the side of your neck, leaving deep kisses along your skin that would later turn into bruise-like marks. Her hands fell to your waist, keeping you pressed against the front door while yours tangled in her blonde hair.

“You’re so stubborn,” the midfielder huffed as she pulled away from your neck. Her tone might have sounded annoyed but you knew she was enjoying it.

“You used to like that about me,” you smirk up at the captain, your hips rolling against her despite her tight grip.

Alexia rolled her eyes at your words before her lips met yours in a deep kiss. Your mouth moved against hers as your hips continued moving. Alexia’s lips against yours drew a low moan from the both of you, the familiar feeling of your ex-girlfriend was not something you could easily forget.

With your lips still locked, you let Alexia blindly guide you to her bedroom, a room that you used to spend countless nights in before the abrupt breakup. You felt the end of the large bed against the back of your legs before you pushed down, Alexia’s lips never leaving yours. Laying on the bed made it easier to grind against the midfield as you searched for some sort of release.

Alexia pulled back, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your ex-girlfriend quickly rid the two of you of your clothes, her eyes scanning up and down your naked form. Seeing you like this wasn't new to her, but something about you being angry at her made the experience hotter than any other time you had sex.

Her lips found your neck again, leaving small nips on your skin as you threw your head back against the pillows. Your breathing was heavy as her hands roamed your body, ignoring every part of you that needed to feel her. The lack of relief was starting to affect you as low whines fell from your lips.

“Ale- please,” you moaned, your voice starting to become hoarse. “Please fuck me,” you whined, needing the blonde to finally give in and touch you where you needed her.

Alexia pulled away from you completely before standing up to get something from her dresser. You whined loudly at the loss of complete contact, your eyes following the blonde the entire time. You watched as she pulled your favorite strap on from a bottom drawer, your eyes rolling back slightly knowing just how well Alexia can use the toy.

Alexia quickly fastened the toy around her hips before rejoining you on the bed. The blonde gave you a quick kiss before her lips trailed down your neck toward your chest. She took one of your hardened nipples in her mouth, lightly sucking on the bud. A loud moan fell from your mouth at the feeling, thrilled that she was finally doing something. Alexia took her time before she pulled back and did the same with your other nipple.

You moved one of your hands to tangle in her hair, pressing her close to your body. After giving your chest enough attention, Alexia left harsh kisses down your torso every so often sucking softly to leave a mark. When she finally reached your dripping core, the blonde blew lightly against you causing your back to arch at the cool sensation.

Alexia smirked at the sight of you dripping when she’d barely done anything. She tilted her head down slightly to slowly lick up towards your clit before pulling back all the way and sat up on her knees. The feeling of her tongue against you had your eyes tightly shut as your hips rolled against nothing.

“You look so desperate, amor,” the blonde smirked, a sarcastic laugh echoing off the walls.

If you weren’t desperate for her to fuck you, you would have told her to go fuck herself but you needed her. Ever since the breakup, no one you hooked up with could make you cum the way Alexia could. But you weren’t going to tell her that, you were still pissed that she wouldn’t tell you why she broke up with you in the first place.

You couldn't form an actual response other than desperate moans, which didn’t help your case. Alexia laughed to herself at your state as she ran the tip of the strap-on through your soaked folds. Alexia pushed the strap-on further into you, not letting you readjust to the size as her hands moved your legs to wrap around her waist. Her hands held tightly on your hips as she started slowly thrusting into you as you rolled your hips to meet her thrusts.

One of your hands gripped tightly to cover underneath you while the other gripped one of Alexia’s wrists. Your head was thrown back as loud moans escaped your lips. “Faster, Ale, p-please,” was as you could get out in between moans, hoping the blonde would listen.

Alexia took pity on you, she knew you well enough to know exactly what you needed. The captain’s hips sped up as she fucked you, the sound of her skin hitting yours joined your moans in filling the room. Your volume grew as her hips angled slightly to thrust deeper, bringing you closer to the edge with each thrust.

The midfielder knew the telltale signs of when you were about to cum but she wasn't ready to let you just yet. Her hips slowed slightly as she removed one of your legs from her waist to push it toward your chest, stretching you out in the process. A loud moan fell from your lips as she kept thrusting into you with this new angle, hitting that familiar spot.

Alexia could feel how wet she was herself at the sight of you, loving how well you took her. One of her favorite sights was watching you as you cum around her strap and she was determined to give you one of the best orgasms ever.

With the new position, Alexia’s hips sped back up as she thrusts hard into you. The bed rocked back and forth, the headboard hitting the wall in a rhythm. Not that you truly cared at the moment, but you were glad Alexia’s apartment was the last one on the hall and that there was no one on the other side. The sound of your moans mixed with the sounds of Alexia fucking you spurred her on, her hips snapping against yours harshly.

In a broken voice, you begged her to let you cum as you felt the coil in your lower stomach tighten. Alexia could feel herself close to her release as she stared down at you, watching as your back arched and your hips moved in time with hers.

“Ven por mí (come for me),” Alexia groaned, as her hips faltered slightly. That was all you needed before you let go, cumming all over her strap. Alexia didn’t slow her hips at all as you came, needing to find her own release. You whined at the overstimulation but Alexia came soon after you.

The blonde’s hips came to a stop before slowly pulling out of you. A small groan escaped your lips at the loss of contact and Alexia quickly stripped herself of the toy before tossing it somewhere to be picked up later. She left light kisses all over your body as you both calmed down before moving off of you and to one side of the bed.

You took a minute to collect your thoughts, your original anger still present in your mind. You sat up quickly and moved to gather your clothes. “Where are you going,” confusion laced Alexia’s words as you watched you get dressed.

“Away from you,” You snapped, the pleasure and enjoyment you felt mere minutes ago gone as you finished getting dressed. You finally made eye contact with Alexia and you could see the hurt look in her eye but considering she refused to tell you why she broke up with you and has given you the cold shoulder ever since, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Y/n/n…” Alexia started but you cut her off. “No, you don’t get to call me that anymore,” you felt your heart breaking all over again, this moment felt like the true end to your relationship with the Barcelona captain, and that hurt.

You didn’t give her a chance to respond before you made your way out of her apartment and down the hall toward the elevator. You felt your eyes water as you waited for the elevator to reach the floor you were on, fighting with yourself to not go back to Alexia. If she wanted to explain herself to fix things with you, she was going to have to make the first move. You were done with trying to get her to tell you the truth.

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #espwnt x reader #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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seungfl0wer · 5 months ago

Note

Can you do 34 from the 60 more writing prompts with Seungmin or leeknow, can it be angst with a fluffy ending 🥹

*Pay Attention!*

Pairing: Minho x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst/Semi Fluff Ending

Warnings: Cursing, Arguing/Yelling, Reader gets hurt (burnt), Mentions of Blood, Mentions of wanting to die, not proof read

The time someone asks for a happy ending I leave it kinda not- I mean it’s happier than I was gonna leave it not gonna lie😂. I hope you enjoy it though. Yall really coming at me with these angst scenarios lol

-🩵

Your fiancé had just came home throwing his coat over the couch coming to meet you as you were cooking dinner in the kitchen. He seemed a bit off today probably annoyed from work as he told you about the boss being a dick lately. You were listening to music as you cooked swaying your hip as you cut up some veggies.

Minho gave you a peck on the cheek before sitting down at the table looking over some paperwork he had to do along bills that were on the table. His whole demeanor almost shifted looking over the papers he looked angry. Looked like tears wanted to peak from his eyes fists bunched at the side of the papers. You tried to ignore it wanting to keep your peace for a bit more.

A few minutes had passed before he started talking asking you questions his tone was a bit harsh as he asked “what did we get that was this price?” “Why’s the phone bill high this month” he has a good job and nice money and you worked some hours at a bakery. Money wasn’t an issue really ever. Bills were always paid on time. What was his problem?

You were in your thoughts as you moved the hot pot you had to the other to combine everything. “Y/n!” he said loudly startling you, making you drop the pot. Your hands were too fast for you to think grabbing the hot pan wincing at the pain before letting it drop. You moved quickly accidentally knocking over the other pot with everything in it. You had no time to react everything was just happening so fast. Minho looked at you “y/n can’t you pay attention for 5 fucking seconds?” He hissed at you not realizing you had just burnt yourself.

You looked at him feeling tears pull at your eyes, your vision becoming slightly blurry. You ran your hands under cold water to help the burn as the man behind you rambled on “such a fucking waste” he said grabbing the pan that had fallen. “Why can’t you just pay attention to shit?” He hissed again. The words stung, stung more than the burning of your hands. The tears started to fall a bit turning your head to him “you know what fuck you!” You tried screaming but it came out as a croak.

His eyes squinting at you “why are you even fucking crying? It’s not like you worked all day to come home and have your fiancé dump dinner on the floor because they can’t pay attention!” His words felt like daggers in just stabbing you in the back. You turned your body towards him hands shaking “I guess the food and I have something in common we are just Both a waste aren’t we.” You said whipping your eyes. You walk toward the door grabbing your keys. “Where the hell are you going?” Minho asked following behind you.

“Somewhere I’m not gonna be a bother! Don’t worry about me Minho, order some fucking food and enjoy being alone.” You said before leaving out the door slamming it behind you. You walked to your car hands still hurt you didn’t notice that when the other pan had fallen it had hit the back of your leg. Cutting it as the sharp part of the old janky pan hit it. Your sock was turning red great just great, man hands are burnt and now I’ll probably need stitches. You say smack the steering wheel. You started to just cry you cried hard at the words of your fiancé, you knew he’s been stressed but god he was being an asshole.

You drove yourself to the hospital getting stitched up, the nurse wrapping your hands that were now blistering. You drove back home after a few hours just sitting in your car really not wanting to go back up. You sat there for a good half hour just debating what you wanted to do before you ended up falling asleep. Minho saw your car pull in but was giving you space after what happened he got concerned when it turned about 2 hours of you not coming up.

He walked down to your car to see you fast asleep. He opened the door shaking his head before waking you up “leaving the doors unlocked? You want someone to kill you or something?” He said moving to the side to open your door “maybe it would solve your problem.” You said softly getting out not looking at him. He was about to talk before realizing your hands “are you ok?” He said looking at your hands. You don’t even say anything as you walked up to your house the man following slowly behind you.

You look in at the crime scene realizing Minho had cleaned it, he had also remade dinner “If you’re hungry there’s food.” He said softly you nod plopping yourself on the couch rolling your body to have your face against the back. Curling up into a ball trying not to cry again, you felt Minhos hand hesitantly rub your back. “Y/n I’m sorry.. I didn’t..” his words stuck in his throat. “God I’m sorry.” His voice cracking feeling his body shaking “you got hurt and I fucking yelled at you I don’t even know why you came back i don’t know why you haven’t kicked me out.”

Minho babbled out through tears “I wouldn’t even blame you if you didn’t want to marry me anymore.” You turned to look at him tear stained cheeks his lip quivering staring down at the ground. “Love” you said softly placing your wrapped hand on his. “Y/n please don’t try and make me feel better I hurt you I deserve to be feeling like this.” He spit “I deserve for you to hate me to never want to be around me.” He said another wave of tears falling “fuck I-“ his words not coming out. You get your body up and hold onto him.

You were still hurt but seeing him hurt made it even worse “Listen what you said was assholey however I’m not just gonna walk away from us.” You said trying to get him to look at you “I know you said it out of angry but it still hurt so we’ll just have to talk. Maybe give each other space but I’m not leaving you. When you proposed you signed away any life without me.” You teased his eyes meeting yours “you sleep in the bed tonight ok? I’ll sleep on the couch.” He said biting his lip that was still wiggling.

“I might be upset still but I don’t wanna sleep along.. unless you don’t wanna-“ you said before he cut you off “you know I love sleeping with you it’s always the easiest to sleep.” You could see him calming down by his words. You kissed his cheek getting up “alright well let’s eat and maybe talk if you want and we can go to bed.” You suggested him nodding in response.

He’d give anything to rewind everything that had happened however but it happened and he knew he’d have to show you he didn’t mean what he said. He didn’t mean for you to get hurt the way you did. He’ll spend forever feeling bad about it but also forever making it up to you showing he loves you. And even if it hurt you, you didn’t wanna throw away all the love over one argument. Love is about working through problems like these. And you loved this man no matter how dumb he was being.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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writteninlunarlight-years · 2 months ago

Text

My Espresso

A repost of one of my first-ever stories. I guess it got deleted in my purge. Here it is back once again with a better name, lol

The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time.

How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.

Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.

As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self.

Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.

All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue.

~~~Years Later~~~

Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities?

As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.”

Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!”

You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again.

Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you.

Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up.

You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table.

You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.”

The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.”

You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him.

“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”

Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon.

As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.”

You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.

The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her.

Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.”

Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City.

The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.”

You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.

As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.”

The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked.

The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.”

As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room.

You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home.

Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak.

What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7.

Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.

~~~Flashback~~~

You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside.

Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”

Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail.

He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.

Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.”

You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music.

As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.

~~~Present Day~~~

The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part.

A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.

Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.

Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted.

A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie.

You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.

Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.

You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.

After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well.

As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even.

Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you.

You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso.

You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?” You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano.

He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you.

Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid.

All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.

#x reader #lunarwritings #moons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x you fluff #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor imagine #alastor fluff #alastor #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon

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crtter · 1 year ago

Text

I’ve been seeing some people getting a bit confused and getting some stuff wrong in the comments of that one post telling the story about the creator of Neopets throwing a hissy fit (Hissi fit lol) over people disliking his idea of a game “that’s just like Neopets but with crypto” and I don’t want to add anything to it to not bother the OP but Neopets has been a hyperfixation of mine since I was 13 and I physically can’t stop myself from going “Um, ackshually ☝️🤓” so I’m gonna do it in my own post. Here’s what happened:

The guy who got super pissed off and started badmouthing Neopets users, ending his tirade with a selfie of him giving Neopets users the finger, Adam Powell, did create Neopets, yes, but he doesn’t own it anymore since it was sold to Viacom in 2005. He has been involved in a few game ventures since but they haven’t been very successful.

His idea wasn’t to “implement NFTs in Neopets”, he’s developing (or planning to) another game that’ll apparently be free to play with some extra paid features, and said features would be paid in some sort of cryptocurrency.

Sadly, the parent company of Neopets, JumpStart, already tried to implement NFTs by partnering with Metaverse back in 2021, with disastrous results, both in the eyes of Neopets players (who hated the idea because NFTs are a scam and terrible for the environment and all) and in the eyes of NFT bros (because the NFTs in question were VERY overpriced given their poor quality and made using stolen assets from Neopets fan sites). The project is apparently still underway but it’s hugely unpopular and tweets made by the official Neopets Metaverse account mostly only gets engagement from NFT bots, if they get any at all.

Back to Adam. He apparently thought people would be “excited about his new game because of the Neopets Metaverse thing”, without knowing how much the fanbase hated the whole thing, and tried to peddle it in the Discord server of the r/Neopets subreddit, a subreddit that has always been VERY vocal against the Neopets NFTs. And well. You can guess how much people weren’t interested in his game. Then, just to make matters worse, people went on the Discord server of his game and saw that it was badly moderated and chock full of homophobic comments made by cryptobros.

Adam gets pissed off at people disliking his game idea and not taking kindly to his comments that “they just don’t understand what crypto is about” and goes on an angry tirade, saying stuff such as how much he wished he never made Neopets because the fanbase sucks, saying he’s going to buy it back just to destroy it and ending in the aforementioned middle finger selfie, all while people clowned on him like crazy. This ended in him getting banned from the Discord server AND from the r/Neopets subreddit. He then started trying to defend himself and demanding to be unbanned in… the comment thread of a news article relating the incident in the Neopets fan site Jellyneo. Last time I checked he was still at it.

He blamed his outburst on “having drunk alcohol while on Sertraline” and has said he wasn’t aware of the homophobic comments in his server and claimed that he doesn’t have anything against LGBT+ people, but he has also made it very clear he doesn’t think he’s in the wrong and won’t apologize for anything.

#reporting live #long post #Neopets

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artsycloudysleepy · 5 months ago

Note

aaaaaa tysm!!!! this helps so much, you have no idea! have a great rest of your day and thanks again :D

(warning that the tags are long and lengthy!)

hiya nye!! hope you're doing good :3

looking for some OC advice if that's okay: i have an OC who has MDD, but afaik i don't have it myself and i really want to avoid harmful stereotyping or unrealistic portrayals!

was wondering if you have any tips on writing it, if there's anything specific i should know (if there's treatment, side-effects, etc.) or just anything to avoid in terms of stereotypes?

obviously don't answer this if you don't want to, it's probably very personal, and take your time if you do! i want to avoid screwing up, and while i am also going to check out articles and do my research, i also want to make sure i'm not accidentally being a prick or looking at misinformation and ask you if you have any advice :)

thank you so much! have a nice day nye, stay hydrated :D

Heeyyyy Artsy :3

I'd be happy to help in whatever way I can, but heads up I'm not professionally diagnosed or anything and am definitely not an expert on the topic, so this will just be from my personal experience

So of course maladaptive daydreaming is different for everyone, I think the most common interpretation of it is someone who might use their persona to self insert themselves into media they might like, or a personally written story. Sometimes they might be pre-written and played out (I personally believe this is what "shifters" do). A second common one might be writing a story by thinking about it as a show, where you yourself may not be involved. Many people wrote brilliant stories using this method.

My personal experience is that I can count multiple times where my maladaptive daydreaming was more prominent throughout my life, but I can't really pick it out if childhood experiences as it was kind of like the hit thing to be good at imagining when you were 5.

My standout experience with MDD is ongoing. It started five years ago and it involves myself and other people consistently. There is no change in plot or reboots, I consider these people consistent as any other person I might know. Plainly, I consider the maladaptive daydreaming characters that I have created (ocs) AND have not created to exist as people in some way, so I treat them as such.

Part of my MDD is that these people I know through my head interact with people from the real world, having casual conversations and such.

My level of focus on my MDD varies on my mental health and environment, it usually ranges from maybe 1 interaction a day to things I have planned for the day being cancelled because I'm busy daydreaming. My daydreaming friends will often grow distressed if I don't speak to them for long periods of time. Some of them (my ocs) fear that they'd cease to exist, while others may fear their friends could disappear, including me.

Something well known for MDD is repetitive motions, personally I find my stims outside of MDD are larger and more noticable, while I'm daydreaming sometimes my repetitive motions will be spinning a pen or something as miniscule as timed blinking or eye movement. It's like keeping pace to me, like they tell you to associate a smell with sleeping if you have a hard time sleeping. The motions help keep me focused on my daydreams.

I don't like closing my eyes when I daydream, but I do like dark rooms. I also prefer background noise. It's also well known people like to listen to music while they daydream, and I do, but the noise doesn't have to be music. It just has to be constant and have some kind of pattern that I can tune out to. The noise helps distract me from what I see visually!

I haven't researched treatment because recently I've been quite good at regulating my daydreams, and in the past it's been a fear of mine. I think the only treatment there would be for MDD is finding other coping mechanisms.

As for side effects, I'm not sure what would qualify. I can get angry at daydreams the same way I would anything else, same goes for every emotion. Sometimes it just makes my mood seem out of place, I think. I also think it's obvious when I'm daydreaming, because people usually poke me or wave a hand in front of my face (THIS IS SO ANNOYING DON'T DO THIS I'M DAYDREAMING FOR A REASON). MDD sometimes restricts my real life experiences, socializing, sometimes makes me forget meals, it also makes my memory of everything worse, instead replaced by memories of daydreams. MDD is something that I deal with, while I know it's a negative thing it's something that I don't have any desire to detach myself from. That's a scary idea to me, so I suppose that's a side effect in itself.

As far as writing a character with MDD goes, you'd have to know what they were daydreaming about first. A lot of the rest of the traits, such as what noise or actions they use, would be down to their other characteristics. If I was going to avoid something, it would be to not make everything they daydream about separate to reality. Almost everyone I've known with MDD has integrated their realities in some way, whether it be having their persona personality shine through, their daydreams interact with people around them, writing about it, drawing or infodumping. Of course this might not be everyone, but I think it also depends how private of a person they are. People who have MDD tend to know they're creating something complex.

Thanks for asking me Artsy, again, this is just from personal experiences. Hope this helped! :3

#artsy's moot sillies #gonna copy + paste this into a document and highlight stuff for future use tysm!!#um some personal stuff in the tags here bc this made me think about me and uh.............. i may now have an explanation for stuff?#tldr for tags: i have a LOT of self-reflection and OC work to do haha. thank you again for helping; it means more than i can say :3 #(personal tag start: if i'm being completely honest i tick. a lot of these boxes? as in. A LOT)#(i'm not saying i have MDD bc i haven't researched fully yet but it's kind of like. woah. this is.......... really close to my stuff?)#(like maybe it's not MDD i'm relating to this a bit too much????)#(i'll be doing research anyway so i guess if i relate to too much i might have an answer for the past 6-ish years of constant daydreaming)#(without getting into too much personal stuff i created my OCs as a response to some trauma and i constantly daydream about them)#(i self insert myself into the story (persona-ish); have them reference my life; talk about real people; like imaginary friends)#(i don't have them interact with real people that often but they mention them quite a bit)#(my ocs are also very specific and don't change much if at all. if anything i make workarounds for plotholes)#(and i have times where i've daydreamed for hours without stopping; fully acting out the scenes and feeling the emotions)#(like if i'm angry in the daydream i'm just as angry/close to a meltdown in real life)#(it's become so much of a coping mechanism that i can't stop and i don't want to. even though i know i need to ground myself and figure irl #stuff out properly. so i'm trying to turn it into a therapy-ish thing to help me and also let me keep daydreaming?)#(and i hate being interrupted. tend to just lock myself in my room and i get really frustrated if people interrupt me)#(i also rock a *lot* when i'm daydreaming - broke my last bed and now the floorboards creak when i rock on them instead lol)#(i also listen to music or ambient noise when daydreaming and tend to match the rhythm in some way with stims)#(the rhythm/melody also affect what i daydream about; whether it's action or fluff or angst or what)#(and also sometimes talking from movies or shows helps me daydream #where my ocs and me say the same things as them like we're being voiced over. and i can involuntarily have to daydream when something in a #show gets my attention like that. i can't put the idea down and have to act it out and daydream)#(it makes attention span a nightmare for things that are too long)#(when daydreaming i like natural light or dim light (scared of the dark so *that's* fun /s) and either close my eyes or keep them open)#(and i feel *awful* if i haven't spoken to my ocs for a long time and have the fear that they'll be forgotten without me)#(so basically the exact opposite than yours lol)#(it feels like i'm constantly daydreaming. i'm never *not* if that makes sense)#(sometimes it scares me that none of it is real. or i treat it as if it IS real and that can be a whole 'nother problem)#(and sometimes it's like a show i'm not personally involved in (not my oc stuff; it's always a fandom of mine). sometimes have a persona.)

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dixons-sunshine · 5 months ago

Text

Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter Three | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: Your suspicions regarding the community you were trapped in only heightened with each passing second. Daryl was mad at you, and you had confirmation that you were pregnant. Things couldn't get worse, could it?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, blood and injuries.

Word count: 2.7k.

A/n: I feel like this is all over the place, plot-wise. However, another chapter was highly requested (by a few anons asking about it), so I stuck it out and this was born. I also feel like it ends on an awkward note, but I wanted to end it on a cliffhanger. I don't know if I did it right lol. Anyways, I hope you like this!

Taglist: @dixons-girl89 @jupiter1700 @enlightndone @shadowcitrine @ddamm @caseylicious @celtic-crossbow

“Alright, then.” Doctor Owen Miller tightly secured the bandage around Daryl's wrist. “The bandages should be able to come off in two to three days. The rope burns weren't that severe. You can feel really lucky about that.”

The doctor's suspiciously friendly voice barely reached the archer's ears. His ocean coloured eyes stared off at nothing in particular, his mind desperately attempting to wrap around that one pivotal fact the doctor had accidentally exposed to the unsuspecting father. Due to that fact, about a million thoughts were flooding through his brain—pregnant. You're pregnant. Baby. Father. He was going to be a father. He needed to get you out of there. He needed to keep you safe.

“Liam should be made aware that I expect to see the lady again tomorrow,” Doctor Owen told Mariah, subtly motioning over to you. “With the beating Peter gave her, I want to monitor the baby. I want to ensure that these two don't lose their child due to that asshole's—” The doctor cut himself off and took a deep breath before continuing. “Peter's recklessness. Please bring that to his attention.” With that, the doctor walked towards the door and opened it, momentarily stopping to add one last thing. “I'm off for the rest of day. Don't forget to lock up once your done.”

Mariah nodded as she helped you from the bed, careful not to disturb your injuries. “Of course.” She turned towards you and gave you a hesitant smile. “Ma'am, how are you feeling?”

How were you feeling? There were at least a million answers to that question: Slightly happy. Angry. Sad. Frustrated. But above all else? Overwhelmed. You were truly and undeniably extremely overwhelmed. You now had concrete evidence that you had a life growing within you, and although you were ecstatic at the news, you knew there were far more pressing matters at hand. For one, you were a thousand percent sure that your husband was pissed at you for keeping your pregnancy a secret and insisting on going with him beyond the safety the walls of Alexandria provided. On another note, you were even more certain that the supposed safe zone the two of you found yourselves trapped in wasn't all what Liam was making it out to be. That almost definitely meant that blood would be shed when you and Daryl attempted your escapes.

“Ma'am?” Mariah prompted, snapping her fingers in your face to grab your attention. “How are you feeling?” she repeated the question in a softer tone.

You shrugged and cast your eyes down towards your feet. “Okay, I guess,” you mumbled out weakly, your voice unknowingly snapping Daryl out of his trance and redirecting his fiery gaze to you. “I've had it way worse than this before.”

Mariah chuckled before she took a step back. “I bet,” she began, picking up the tray with the various tools and ointments that were used to clean and fix up your wounds. “You look like a real tough gal. You wouldn't have survived if you didn't get roughed up a couple of times, right?”

“Right,” you agreed in a mutter, your eyes hesitantly moving to meet those of your husband. You flinched a bit when you were met with a glare, but you didn't blame him. You knew he'd be pissed, and rightfully so. You just didn't expect him to be so open about his anger. Well, open by your standards. To the regular eye, his anger would be mistaken for the signature Daryl scowl, but you knew better. This was different. He was angry. And he was angry at you, which made it so much worse.

Mariah placed the tray on one of the tables before turning back to face you and Daryl. However, before she could speak up, a voice could be heard through the room; a voice that you had grown to know and hate, all within a few... Minutes? Hours? You didn't even know at this point.

“Mariah, love,” the voice of your captor, Liam, rung through the air from the walkie talkie that was sat on one of the shelves. “It was just brought to my attention that Doctor Miller is done with the new recruits. Please bring them up to the house for me.”

Mariah sighed, her steadily relaxing demeanour being replaced by that earlier nervous, mouse-like stature she had when you had originally met her. She walked towards the door and opened it. “Please follow me,” she squeaked out nervously, her eyes darting around.

You slowly walked towards her, not sparing Daryl a glance because you didn't want to see the anger behind those beautiful blue eyes of his. Besides, as mad as the archer was at you, he would never let you face that man alone. He would much rather die, that much you knew.

Daryl grumbled to himself and followed behind you, proving your point. Together, in silence, the two of you followed the woman out of the makeshift medical building and up to the big farmhouse you vaguely remembered spotting earlier—the farmhouse Liam had mentioned you and Daryl would be staying in with him. In no time at all, the three of you were walking up the steps of the majestic, white home, and in through the front door.

The inside of the home looked even more beautiful than the outside. It seemed as if though the horrors of the outside world were never heard of for this house. The floors were shining, the walls were decorated with all sorts of artwork, and there was even a television resting in the living room. However, you doubted the object even worked, because you hadn't spotted solar panels or anything that could generate power, so the thing was more of a decoration than anything else.

You were snapped out of your rather unnecessary train of thought by the feeling of someone's hand resting on your shoulder. The touch was all too familiar—it was your husband who was resting his hand on your shoulder. A subtle glance to your left proved your suspicions correct. So your husband didn't hate you. You considered that a win. However, you were confused as to why he felt the need to do that. He rarely did that in public, unless he was trying to comfort you, or to refrain himself from launching a punch in someone's direction. So why would he—

Your thoughts were cut off by the obnoxious sound of an all too familiar British accented voice. “Ah, well would you look at you?” Liam began as he descended down the stairs, his green eyes alight with invitation. However, whether or not it was genuine, you were yet to find out. “You're looking better, Y/N. Doctor Miller did a good job. A shower and a set of fresh clothes will certainly make you look rather ravishing.” Daryl's hand tightened on your shoulder, and you brought your hand to rest over his, a subtle way of trying to calm him down. Liam noticed, however, and sent Daryl a reassuring smile with a raise of his hands. “Woah, there, champ. No need to get all feisty. I already have a lady of my own. I was just making an observation.”

“Observation, my ass. Shouldn't even be lookin' at her, ya stupid fuck,” you heard Daryl mumble under his breath, and you had to refrain from giggling. Daryl wasn't a jealous guy perse, and he certainly wouldn't stop you from befriending other guys, but he definitely had his moments. Although he had other reasons to want to knock this guy out, it was rather cute to know that he didn't want Liam to look at you that way.

Liam, thankfully, was blissfully unaware of the archer's hateful words, instead turning to regard Mariah, who had been quiet during the whole exchange. “Hey, my beautiful girl,” he greeted her, opening his arms as an invitation for a hug.

Mariah hesitantly walked into his arms, tensing slightly when he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head. You were sure to make a mental note about that. You didn't know why exactly Mariah was so scared of her husband, but you knew it wasn't good. If his own wife was terrified of him for god knows what reason, you didn't even want to know what he could do to complete strangers.

After he was satisfied with the hug, Liam pulled back and turned back to you and Daryl. He was about to say something until an unknown man barged into the room, breathless and sweating. Liam scowled angrily at the man, swiftly pushing Mariah aside. “Reggie, this better be really fucking important. You know how I feel about being interrupted when interviewing new recruits.”

The man—Reggie—quickly nodded. “I know, I know.” He panted breathlessly and leaned against the wall in an attempt to recapture his breath. “There was a man who demanded to speak to you. He refuses to speak to anyone but the leader.”

Liam stared at Reggie for a few seconds, his face giving absolutely nothing away, until he nodded and turned back to you and Daryl. “Please make yourselves comfortable. I promise I won't be long. Mariah,” he began, turning to his wife and lazily waving towards the door that lead to another room. “Please make our guests something to eat. I'm sure they must be absolutely famished. Oh, and get them something to drink as well.” Liam sent the two of you a smile. “I hope wine is alright. I'd offer up some scotch, but that's really hard to come by and I don't fancy wine that much, you see.”

“Liam!” Reggie exclaimed impatiently. “We got to go!”

“For fuck's sake, alright!” Liam roared loudly, his eyes alight with a fiery glare. He roughly pushed past the man and stormed out of the door, Reggie having to jog behind him to keep up. The door closed behind them with a slam, and just like that, you and Daryl were left alone with Mariah for the second time that day.

Mariah let out a small sigh, and you could see her visibly relax without Liam's presence. It was odd to you that the woman felt more at ease with two complete strangers who could turn around and end up hurting—or killing—her, and it only fueled your reluctance to trust Liam. There was something very off about that man, and you were determined to find out what.

Mariah turned to look at you, her eyes darting between your face and your stomach. “Um, are you sure you want wine? I mean, I don't want to force you to do anything, but—”

“It's okay,” you cut her off, sending her a small, tight-lipped smile. “Water is fine, thank you.”

Mariah nodded and motioned towards the couches. “Please, feel free to make yourselves comfortable. I won't be long.” With that, she scurried off into the kitchen, leaving you and Daryl alone in the living room.

Without the company of others, the air surrounding the two of you got tense very quickly. Neither of you made a move to sit down, but Daryl did move away from you, his warm, comforting touch leaving your shoulder. He refused to make eye contact with you, and it broke your heart. You knew he was mad at you, and he had every right to be, but it certainly didn't mean that it didn't hurt. You were certain it would be up to you to clear the air, and that's what you'd do—whether Mariah heard it or not.

“Daryl—” you began hesitantly, but you were instantly shut down.

“Don't,” he muttered bitterly, his back still turned to you. His shoulders were visibly tensed and even though you couldn't see it, you knew his jaw was as well. He was trying hard not to lash out at you, and you had to give him credit for his self-control.

However, you weren't having any of it. You were nothing if not extremely persistent, so you'd stop at nothing until you'd had a chance to explain yourself. “No, I'm not gonna stop until you've let me speak my mind.”

Daryl whipped around to face you, his eyes finally meeting yours. His eyes were set in a steely glare, but you didn't back down. “Where could ya possibly start explainin' yerself to me?” he spat bitterly. “Yer pregnant and ya kept tha' from me? Ya begged and pleaded to come with me on the run today and put yerself and our baby in danger! Now 'cause'a tha', yer in fuckin' danger. If ya had jus' told me tha' ya were pregnant, maybe things would'a been different. Maybe we would'a been safe back home. Maybe I never would'a suggested the run. Maybe I would'a let Rick come with instead'a ya. Maybe—”

You cut Daryl off by pulling him into a hug, nuzzling your face into his chest. He froze for a few seconds, hesitating to return the hug, but ultimately wrapped his arms around you. He rested his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes as he felt the anger drain from his body. He never could stay mad at you. However, it didn't mean that he wasn't still upset that you were in danger.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered against his chest. “I should've told you I was pregnant, I know that. I just didn't want to say anything until I was a hundred percent sure. That's why I wanted to go on that run with you. I wanted to find a few pregnancy test. I guess I could've just asked you to do that, but I didn't want you to freak out. I was... Scared. I was scared that if you knew that I thought I was pregnant, something would go wrong. I don't know what I expected to go wrong, but I just... I promise I was gonna tell you after I knew for sure. You have to believe me. I—”

“Hey, s'okay,” Daryl reassured you, pulling back to look into your eyes. Daryl was feeling all kinds of bad at that moment. You didn't deserve to be treated like that for any reason, especially not by him. You had your reasons for keeping it a secret from him, and he couldn't blame you for it. He was upset, but the two of you could figure that out later. For now, all he wanted to do was get you the hell out of that place, and to do that, he needed a clear mind. “M'sorry fer reactin' like tha'. M'upset ya didn't tell me, but there ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it now. We jus' have to figure out a way to get the fuck outta here. We can figure the rest out later, alrigh'?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you practically sprung apart when the door flung open again. However, instead of being met by Liam, you were met by somebody completely different. The man came strutting in like he owned the place. The man stopped and regarded the two of you with an indifferent look. “And you two are?” he questioned, plopping himself down on one of the couches.

You shared a look with Daryl, neither of you making any attempts to answer the question. However, you didn't need to, because Liam soon entered the home as well, sending you and Daryl a suspiciously friendly smile. “Sorry for disappearing, champs,” he began. “He was the one causing an uproar by the gates. This guy can make quite the spectacle when he wants to, don't you, brother?” The two men shared a laugh, before Liam calmed down and regarded the two of you. A look of realization dawned on his face, and he hit his forehead with his palm. “Oh, how rude of me. Allow me to introduce him. This is Lucas Davis, my brother and right-hand man.”

The man—Lucas—sent you a small smirk, his eyes trailing you up and down. And for some reason, you knew that the arrival of this man would only mean trouble.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

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