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seitmai · 19 hours ago

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“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.” “Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?

Truly 🥲

His brows pinched a little as his hands gently framed your cheeks. “Kotyonok, why do you sound so upset?” He asked, his thumbs moving in a soothing motion as you took a deep breath. “Wait, are you scared that I’d be mad at you?” “I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”

He is so erratic, it's hard to tell anything at all 🥴

“I appreciate you telling me, but you have nothing to worry about. Just have a good rest of the day.” With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he whispered, “I’ll be thinking of you until I see you again.”

I'm sure he is 🥲

She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.” “I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said. Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?

🥴😬🫣

He held your arm when you tried to get out. “You express yourself through Acts of Service with loving gestures and helping with tasks, but what you crave is Quality Time because you value meaningful interactions and connecting with people on a more personal level.” You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.

Which is very natural and reasonable, if you choose these times yourself 🙈

“Right. Not for our first time.” He tipped his head back as he took a breath, no doubt trying to control himself. “Just one more kiss, Kotyonok. One more for me to dream about tonight,” he groaned, bringing his face back to yours for one more kiss with fervor. Just when you thought it would turn more ravenous, he shifted to something soft, tender. A feeling that had both of you shaking when it ended, but likely for different reasons.

Very different reasons 🥴

“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.” “Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”

Geez Barnes just listen to her 🤦🏻‍♀️

Heat filled your cheeks and you wanted to smack him. There was a fine line between the delusion he had in his head and the reality of the situation. The tightrope you were walking was close to snapping. “I’m not embarrassed. I can't breathe.” You stepped back, trying to give yourself space. Was Ray watching from the car? “Everything in my life recently has revolved around you or you being there. Say what you want about me being lonely, it doesn't give you an excuse to take over.”

I beg you, please smack some sense into him!

Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.” “Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.

This!!!

“I’m not trying to smother you.” He shifted like he was the one uncomfortable, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I… I know you can't breathe,” he said, lifting a hand as if to reach out before he dropped it and took a deep breath. “That’s why I'm leaving you alone tomorrow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now? “I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”

Good god it's so up and down with him, im gonna get whiplash 🥴

You blinked. “So, we won't see each other tomorrow?” You tried not to get too excited. It was only a day, but between that and the girls day that was still something. You had to go the cautiously optimistic route again and take what you got.

She's better than me, I would have done a happy dance or something lol

“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.” You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,”

For real 😒

Hold You Tight: Part 12

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 11 | Series Masterlist | Part 13

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.7k

Chapter Summary: Bucky gets under your skin when he takes you shopping.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dirty talk, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure how much time passed with Bucky’s head resting in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly moving through his hair. While his body relaxed, you remained rigid. You tried to think of positive things. Your upcoming trip to the winery, Addison’s wedding. The images in your mind darkened though as if a cloud loomed over them. In a way, it did because you didn’t know what Bucky had planned for those events. Because even if Bucky really let you go to the winery alone, someone would be watching.

You forced the cloud in your mind to lift. Things could still be positive. You could still have a good day and have the best time with your friends.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work,” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.”

“Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?

Brushing his pants off once he got to his feet, he helped you up and didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t attempt to pull away. He made sure to grab the money you left on the table before he paid the server and you tried to give the poor guy a smile when you thanked him. You just wanted to get on with your day.

As Bucky led you out of the cafe and back to the shop, you caught Ray’s gaze as he stood by the car and waited for his boss. Whatever concern he showed for you faded when he blinked. How did he deal with this life? Would he ever walk away from it?

“I’ll pick you up after work then?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t tell him when your shift ended, but he knew, didn’t he? “Thanks for lunch.”

“It was my pleasure, but one more thing.” Bucky stopped you before you could enter the shop. “This regular customer you mentioned earlier. How often does he stop in?”

He asked as if he had no idea and maybe he didn’t in this case. That assumption didn’t ease your worries. “Once a month,” you said, your stomach turning slightly. “Listen, the roses he tried to give to me, I gave them to him first. They were his usual order and I thought it would be nice gesture and I was just-”

“I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”

“No, no, no, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad that you were kind to another person? That’s one of the things I love about you. It drew me to you,” he assured you. You oddly felt better by his assurance. “I don’t want you to stop doing kind things for others because you’re worried it might upset me.”

“So, it doesn’t upset you?”

“You being you would never upset me,” he smiled. He had said more than once that he loved you as a person, so maybe he was telling the truth. “A man trying to give flowers to you while going through a break-up is, at the very least, a little strange.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to admit that he had a point and that you were slightly put off when Clark tried to give the roses to you.

“I’m also well aware that you don’t hit on any guy who comes into your shop, so I wouldn’t view any act of kindness to a customer as trying to get their attention.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. Even Ray had pointed out to you that you didn’t give guys in the shop the time of day. Why would you when most of them were buying flowers for someone else? “But I just wanted you to know.”

You weren’t sure why your heart fluttered. Relief that Bucky reacted calmly to what you said? You didn’t dwell on it as he held the door open and smiled after you as you went back into the shop. It was time to concentrate on work again.

Mrs. Crandle smiled and waved to Bucky through the door. “Oh, he is a looker,” she winked. “How was lunch, dear?”

“The food was good and Bucky and I got to talk a bit, which was… nice,” you answered, glancing around the shop and wondering if the place was bugged, too. Could he get access to the shop? Letting you continue to work seemed too good to be true, but he’d have nothing to worry about if he had eyes and ears there, too. “He’s taking me shopping tonight.”

She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.”

“I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said.

Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?

As expected, Bucky arrived back at the shop a few hours later to pick you up. Instead of giving him the chance to go inside and speak to Mrs. Crandle again, you grabbed your bag and rushed out the door to greet him. He caught you easily when you nearly collided with him, and for the first time, you felt like you were intruding in his space instead of the other way around.

“Eager to see me?” He smiled, his voice teasing as he kept a hand on your shoulder and helped you into the vehicle when you didn’t immediately answer. “How was the rest of your shift? I hope no one else bothered you.”

Just you.

“It was uneventful. I got a lot done,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you from the normalcy of your afternoon. “And no one bothered me.” Your gaze flickered to him and he was hanging onto your every word. He also looked much more relaxed, like the moodiness at lunch never happened. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Also uneventful. A couple of boring calls. Kept thinking about you though and it got me through the day,” he said, slipping an arm around you as the car door closed. The way you two were speaking to each other sounded almost normal. Checking in on each other, seeing how the other was doing. “Steve asked about that double date.”

“I’m sure he’s excited for that,” you said, wondering if that poor coat check girl had any idea.

“We both are. You can find a dress for that, too,” he smiled fondly. “In fact, what would you think of me getting you a new wardrobe when you move in? Your style, your choice on everything. You name it.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you. “Is there something wrong with my current wardrobe?” You hadn’t done anything to deserve a whole new set of clothes and you hoped he wasn’t suggesting it to mold you more to his liking.

“Nothing wrong with it at all. You have great taste and I just want to spoil you,” he said, running a finger down your side. This was the man who let you go into his exclusive club wearing a dressed down outfit simply because it was you, so he’d probably let you get away with any sort of wardrobe you wanted. “Do you know how ravishing you look right now?”

“I’m not ravishing. I’m in my work clothes,” you muttered.

“You are ravishing,” he said, moving his finger back up as you shivered. “We should get some stargazer lilies for your first night in our home. I could strip you down, lay you out on our bed, and brush one of the petals along your skin.”

You inhaled sharply and closed your eyes, trying not to picture him spreading you out on a luxurious bed. He would say something like that when he was right in your space and you had nowhere to go. The man went from zero to sixty in seconds. No doubt he could feel you tremble and knew your heart was racing.

“Bet it’ll feel soft against your nipples,” he whispered, exhaling against your ear. “And your pussy.”

Your next breath was shallow, but you managed not to whimper. “Where are we going shopping?” You asked evenly, hoping to get to the destination sooner rather than later.

You stubbornly kept your eyes shut when he chuckled. “You’re changing the topic because you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Worried you’ll get your panties soaked before we get to the shop?” He questioned, your heart thudding. You didn’t want to think about it at all. You wanted out of the car so you could properly breathe again. “I’m sorry. I’m not playing nice, am I? We’re going to one of your favorite stores and you can pick out whatever you want.”

You’d no doubt look at the price tags out of habit since you shopped on a budget and bought your nicer pieces on sale. “Do you ever really play nice?” You asked, opening your eyes. “One moment you’re being vulnerable and talking about your family and the next time I see you you’re talking about sleeping with me. I’m shocked the whiplash hasn’t scrambled my brain.”

The image of him destroying the utensil at lunch like it was nothing flashed in your mind for some reason. And him and his gang beating up John. Just how strong was he? Was he a killer?

“Sometimes we’ll talk about something tough or serious and the next it may be something more fun or intimate. That’s part of being in a relationship,” he said. If only it were an authentic relationship. “I want that with you, telling you what’s on my mind and how I feel.”

If he cared about what was on your mind or how you felt, he’d back off and let you have a bit of space. “Relationships are built on mutual respect and trust,” you said. Did he not see that the mutual respect wasn't there since he pushed for things to be his way? And trust was something he couldn't force no matter how powerful he was.

“I understand that. You also said a first date was getting to know each other and seeing if there's a mutual connection. I'm opening up to you, letting you get to know me. I’m getting to know you, too, beyond the things I knew in advance,” he said. What was he learning about you that he didn’t already know? “And you can't tell me you don't feel something for me.”

“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, Bucky? That I want you and want to be with you?” You asked. Even if you did develop feelings for him, it would have to be classified as some form of stockholm syndrome. And even then, strong feelings wouldn’t be enough. He wanted everything from you. ��That I don’t want anyone else?”

The hand along your side crept up to your neck, tension heightening when he gently squeezed. He loved putting his hand around your throat. “You do want me, you do want to be with me, you’ll never want anyone else once I have you and I know you love how much I want you,” he spoke with confidence, like he could make the words come true as you took your next breath. “Should I check your panties before we go inside and feel how wet they are?”

You needed to distract him. Fight him. Do something. “What’s your love language?” You blurted out. “Physical Touch?”

“What?” He whispered, your heart still pounding when he slowly moved his hand away from your throat.

“Your love language. You constantly touch me when I’m close to you, so I guessed Physical Touch,” you explained. He always had a hand on you.

He sat back with a pensive look. “No one has ever asked me that.”

“Oh,” you said as the car rolled to a stop. You blindly reached for the door handle. “Well, it’s something to think about if you don’t know.”

You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked. The combination of those languages makes you feel seen and heard,” he continued, giving you a tender smile. “I can hear and see you if you let me.”

You found yourself unable to speak as he gauged your reaction, your throat tight as if gripped by an unseen force. He nailed it right on the head about your love languages, didn't he? “I need air,” you whispered, letting yourself out of the car once he let you go.

The tightness in your throat moved to your heart. Bucky saw and heard you in his own way, didn't he? Not just as a passing thought but because he genuinely believed he loved you, deeply and wholeheartedly. The more he sank his fangs in, the more venom he injected. You had to be your own antidote.

With a shake of your head, you glanced up at the shop. True to his word, it was one you loved. Another piece of yourself that would now be tied to him.

You jumped when Bucky appeared beside you and took your arm. “You okay?” He asked, studying your face with gentle eyes.

“Just fine,” you replied, smiling for his sake. “Let's go shopping.”

You walked into the boutique together, the air filled with a subtle mix of lavender and something sweet that made you feel right at home. The space was a blend of trendy and rustic, exuding charm and intimacy. Clothes lined the wooden shelves and vintage racks, showcasing a variety of styles that ranged from casual to bold. Delicate accessories sparkled in the soft light, inviting you to explore.

You could easily find the perfect dress for the winery here.

“Hello! Welcome to… Oh! Mr. Barnes,” the associate smiled, her heels clicking on the floor. She was a picture perfect example of style and beauty. “I have the back dressing room set up and I’ll be sure no one disturbs you or your girlfriend. It was sundresses you requested, correct?”

Bucky looked proud of himself. “Yes, the perfect sundress for my girl,” he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “And whatever dress you choose, you’ll need jewelry. Oh, and a clutch.”

“Girlfriend?” You asked. He must not have wanted a repeat of how the hostess treated the two of you at lunch. “Wait, you already have dresses selected for me to try on?”

“He called and gave us all the details. And we’ll make sure you have everything you need,” the associate promised as Bucky nudged you ahead of him to follow her. Was anyone else in the shop? “Would either of you like a water?”

“No thank you,” you said. You were never offered a water when you shopped there before, but you were never there with Bucky Barnes.

“Just let me know if you need anything at all,” she smiled, opening the dressing room door.

Bucky thanked her as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from the door, watching you expectantly. “If you don't like any of them, we can go somewhere else.”

“I’m sure they're fine,” you said, going into the room and shutting the door before he could say anything else.

Quickly slipping off your shoes, pants, and top, you turned your attention to a small rack with a range of sundresses. Checking each tag as you pushed through them, none of them on sale, it wasn't a surprise that they were all your size. And all something you'd consider wearing. After flipping through the dresses twice, you decided to try on a sleeveless white dress with small rosebuds. It would be nice for a vineyard.

Before you could put the dress on, the door opened. “Need any help?” Bucky asked as you spun around in your bra and underwear, his eyes slowly scanning your body before you had a chance to cover yourself.

“No. I…” you trailed off as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he breathed your name, want written all over his face. The dressing room felt small. Hot. You could hardly breathe as panic threatened to overwhelm you. And you couldn't do anything but step back as he stepped closer, a predator ready to capture his prey.

Your back hit the mirror when he brought a hand to your chin, your knees shaking as he leaned in. “You’re right about one thing,” he said in a husky tone. “I do crave Physical Touch. Yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours, keeping you still and giving you no chance to turn your head away. It was a light, feathering sort of kiss before his tongue flicked out to trace your lips. He teased you until you opened up for him and allowed his tongue to sweep into your mouth. You couldn't think as he groaned and continued his claim. It was only a matter of time until he claimed you completely.

Bucky pulled away a little, his free hand moving down your torso in a possessive path. “Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped. You felt so small, your insides both frozen and melting from his touch. “Just wanna take you home and make you ride my face before I fuck you.”

You gasped when his knee moved between your legs, your hands flying up to hold his arms. He rocked his leg and you felt power in the motion, a promise of what was to come once he had you where he wanted you. “Bucky,” you whispered. The next word out of your mouth was smothered by his lips, but he didn't increase the urgency in his kisses. He took his time. Like the world could be burning around you and he’d let the flames take over as long as he was kissing you.

You bit back a whimper when he rocked his knee harder, the friction sending heat to your core. Another roll of his body and you were certain you felt the outline of his cock. Bringing a hand to his chest, you lightly pushed. It was already going too far. To your surprise, he broke the kiss. His eyes were still hungry though. “You said you want to hear me?” You asked breathlessly, your lip trembling when his thumb brushed it. “Then not here, please,” you whispered, praying he'd stop.

If he was going to have you, it wouldn't be in a dressing room.

You stayed upright when he stepped back and gave you space, but your legs still shook as he straightened up his clothes and looked you over once more. If he could devour you with a look... “Thank you.” He actually listened to you and didn't push it any further.

He glanced down as he adjusted his pants and you tried to avoid looking at the tent he began to sport. Horror filled you when your gaze went lower to the wet spot by his knee. He hadn't gotten you off, but you both knew he sparked some arousal within you. “Can’t wait ‘til you really make a mess on my pants,” he smirked, walking out just as quietly as he entered the tiny room.

Fighting back tears once he shut the door, you touched your lips. Bucky finally kissed you. Your mouth still tingled. You still felt him there.

Glancing at the rack of dresses, you wished he really was a sweet boyfriend trying to spoil you just because he could. But he hadn't given you a chance to pick them out yourself. He spoke for you, like you were a doll. It was just another piece he put in place for his twisted puzzle of your relationship.

What was wrong with you?

You pulled your clothes back on and flung the door open so hard it almost hit the wall. Bucky’s smug look immediately changed to concern when you walked out holding a sundress. “This one's fine,” you said in a flat tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked, sitting up more in his chair. “You didn't try it on, did you?”

“It’s the one I want,” you said, calling for the associate before Bucky had a chance to argue. You gave her a stiff smile when she joined you and handed over the garment, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you. “Whatever jewelry and handbag you think will go with this, I’ll take it. I trust your judgment.”

“Oh, this dress is lovely and we have the perfect accessories for this. Would you like to look at shoes as well? Or maybe something to go with any of the other dresses?” She asked, her eyes wide as you brushed past her. “Miss?”

“I’m sorry. I need to step outside,” you said, not wanting to be rude to her.

Bucky called after you, but you ignored him. You were furious with yourself. You let him kiss you and allowed some of his words to get under your skin. He didn't fuck you, but he still won, didn't he? And you were letting him. Just like with everything else.

You took two steps out of the shop before you felt a grip on your arm. “Woah. Slow down,” Bucky said, turning you to face him. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.

“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.”

“Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”

Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.”

“Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.

“You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now?

“I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”

But you also couldn't help but wonder why he was really giving you that space. Did Ray or someone say something to him? Was this another ploy to keep you in line?

“You won't see me. God knows I’ll miss you, but it's just a day, right?” He squeezed your hand. “Maybe you’ll miss me, too.”

“I appreciate you giving me that space,” you said sincerely. He needed that space, too, even if he didn't believe it. “And maybe I will.”

“We won't have to miss each other much longer once we're together in the penthouse,” he said, his tone soft and your heart sinking. “Will you answer one thing: Did that kiss mean something to you?”

You didn't want to answer that. If you denied it, it would be a lie or he’d either see through it or snap. If you confirmed it, it would feed him more hope. You still had to examine your feelings because you were afraid and you couldn't think with him staring at you with those longing eyes.

“It meant something,” you answered, not expanding on what exactly it meant when he exhaled. It wasn't smart to let him decipher it how he wished because he could use it against you later.

He took your breath away once more when he pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours. Just as quickly as he started, he stopped and brushed his nose against yours. Any passerby would think it was a sweet moment between a couple making up from an argument. “Thank you,” he whispered, his thumb moving along the racing pulse in your wrist. “Come back inside, please? Pick out a few things for real and then I’ll take you home so you can relax.”

You remembered that the bugs were still in your apartment, which took some more of your enthusiasm away. But if Bucky was really going to leave you alone tomorrow, you’d have to appreciate the time to yourself. Maybe you could pack a bag and get out of the city even sooner than planned.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right? What was the worst that could happen? Making him freak out over your safety? That could be bad.

“Okay. A few things for real and then home,” you agreed.

“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.”

You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,” you said, missing the pair of blue eyes that watched you and Bucky go back into the shop.

So, a little bit of action. 😏 Will it be enough to tide Bucky over? Is he really going to leave you alone for a day? Who was watching you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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raeinyourdreams · 2 days ago

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'call it what you want.' | l.h x reader

pairings: logan howlett x sway!reader

tags: fluff, no established relationship but.. there's something there, mutant!reader (they call her sway due to her mutation.. i love her i wanna talk ab her someone PLEASE ASK AB HER), AFAB reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, no specific petnames for reader (just bub and her hero name.. gets called kid like twice), no use of y/n, written with x1/x2 logan in mind... sigh... save me x2 logan.. anyway, he gives reader his dog tags before a mission in case he.. you know.. so maybe angst? but only til the very end.

wc: 2k!!

a/n: OKAY SO BOOM! this is my first actual work that's not a drabble and i'm so anxious to post AAHHH, i got the inspo from a post i saw a while ago while fried as fuck from someone requesting a fic ab logan giving reader his dog tags, pref fluffy and angsty so i hope i did ur vision justice OP!! tysm for inspo, my reqs are always open 🫶🏻 also i know this is a very burnt card but if something in the wording is off lmk PLEASEE english isn't my first language 😭 anyway enough yapping plz enjoy!! any type of interaction is appreciated

'just know these are yours now.'

you've never seen him without his dog tags, he never took them off, not ever since the first time he came into the mansion. you'd been there the first time, you were a teacher in the school, and you'd seen him occasionally roam the halls and stay by the door, listening in on your class, quietly. but very rarely interacted otherwise, just a simple nod or a 'good morning' that he'd return out of good manners, but he'd mostly keep to himself.

you're a teacher. you're the fun teacher. at least that's what your coworkers seemed to agree upon, seeing how your students appeared to leave your classroom more cheerful than they entered. you'd be lying if you said you didn't use your mutation as an advantage in this situation, being able to read your students' moods every day, how they were feeling and why came insanely handy, especially when it came to giving each student the type of care they needed. which is why you were also a student counselor.

on the days you didn't teach, you'd put that psych degree to work and counsel. in your classroom filled with drawings and fairy lights and stained glass that looked straight from a fairytale, and a door you'd lock for privacy as a student came to confide in you.

obviously despite your title, it wasn't only students who'd come to your office to let a feeling go, teachers too, needed a space to blow off some steam, cry a little sometimes, because they knew you'd soothe them in the end, touch your hand feel the pain dissipate, make it seem as if they'd never felt that way.

up until now, only teachers and students seemed to come to you for help. teachers. and students.

so it did surprise you when the wolverine started showing up in your office after coming back.

"must be tiring. to handle others' emotions like your own all day." he'd say, sitting down on a chair, to which you'd playfully roll your eyes and shake your head. "i don't treat them as my own, i just do what i have to do so they feel better." you'd reply, walking towards the door to lock it out of policy. figured that he was here for counseling as well.

"you treat everyone with so much care it seems like it." he said, which made you stop in your tracks, turning heel to face him, your hair cascading on your shoulders and moving ever so softly as you spun. before you could speak, stunned, he asked again.

"don't you get tired? i mean mentally. it must take a toll on you to be around so many emotions all the time." the way he seemed to read you stunned you, he seemed like a very gruff, cold person from the brief interactions you'd had with him before. truth be told, this was the closest you'd been to logan since he came back to the mansion. it's what other people thought of him, anyway.

but you weren't other people, you were different.

the feeling in your body when you perceive others emotions is strange. you could never put it into words. your mutation was mostly contact based, a small brush of the hand was enough to let you know that person's feelings, the reason behind them, what they needed to feel better and it made it easier to help everyone. you could, however, see and feel the emotions, sometimes even smell them if they were too strong, no need for contact necessary.

with logan, you almost didn't need to be in the same room as him to feel the amount of physical, mental, emotional strain he was constantly under, his superhuman body subconsciously tuning it out, making him oblivious to it. once, after a very dangerous mission, he isolated himself in his room for days, his expression cold and unfazed, but every time you'd walk past an area he was in, the emotions hit you like a truck. so strong you even cried over pain that wasn't yours, a life you hadn't lived.

you looked at him sympathetically, taking a deep breath to concentrate less on the seemingly invisible fog around you two as you sat on the chair, your expression calm and collected. "i'm okay, i promise. thank you, logan."

"like hell you are." "neither are you."

he stays quiet at your retaliation, a weak smile forming on his lips, letting you understand that you were right, not that you needed confirmation.

sometimes, when emotions overpower you, you feel compelled to speak, give words of reassurance, even if you didn't quite know if they'd help or not. "logan, you should let people into your heart, stop living in fear.." you blurted out, unsure of why you were telling him this, but you'd learned to not question it and just speak, because it helped to just hear the words sometimes. it certainly did get you a reaction from logan, as the overbearing feelings you were perceiving faded.. briefly, before they slowly crept back into vision.

it was the faintest of reactions, but a reaction at least.

he nodded, taking in the words silently, as if he were contemplating. you remained stoic, analyzing his demeanor out of pure habit. "did.. you come here for counseling?" you asked, suddenly aware that you were still working, and you weren't even sure if he was here for another reason, or if he did need your help. instead, he shook his head, looking at you as if he were conducting an analysis of his own.

"nah, just came to see you.. sway."

a knock on the door interrupted the brewing tension, a gloomy, childlike presence behind the door, to which you looked at logan apologetically. "i'm sorry logan, i have a student to attend.. but think about what i said." you spoke softly, your warm voice reverberating in his ears like a hug.. something he longed for but couldn't bring himself to ask.

you started seeing him around the classroom more, or rather, he started seeking you out more. in between breaks, before his training, during counseling. it got to a point where your children started greeting him hello and goodbye if he was in the classroom, interacting with him, playing with his hair, always styled like kitty ears. the way he just smiled and let them made something in you bloom, a feeling you couldn't recognize in yourself, but it was pink and warm and fuzzy all over. you couldn't help but wonder if he felt about you this way, too.

slowly, you noticed how, little by little, the gloomy cloud surrounding him would go away when he entered the classroom, how it would be replaced with a pink haze when he looked into your eyes, or made you laugh.. it would quickly fade away, but you'd notice, and noticed how much it resembled that feeling inside you: pink and warm and fuzzy all over.

as time went by, you got used to seeing him around, swinging by your classroom as if it was his haven, a small break from the world he knew, because you were in it. you'd be lying if you said he didn't make you day too, the gloomy atmosphere that once came along with him every time he entered your classroom slowly changing into a lilac haze.

one day, he showed up as the kids were leaving for the day, no colored cloud, but something seemed off. you invited him to sit down as he locked the door after getting in, his expression serene. before you could even speak his hands were on you, pulling you close to him in a hug, and you swore you could feel him shaking slightly. the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water and you just hold him tighter to you, since it feels like the only correct thing to do.

"you're scared."

"no one gets to see me like this, so feel special." said he, almost as if he was confiding a secret in you, which he was.

"oh, trust me, i feel quite special." you replied jokingly, which caused him to let out a chuckle, though it was dull and almost no feeling was tied to it.

you two let go and you asked him what was wrong, and he opened up like it was routine.

"i leave tomorrow. there's a mission out of state and they're asking me to go.. might be off the grid after that for a while." he explained, his voice remained calm but his eyes seemed to reveal to you more of how he was actually feeling.

"i dunno.. thought someone should've known in case.. things go south." your expression changed at that, and logan noticed. "ah, c'mon bub, change that frown, it's just reality. sure, i might be a piece of work to kill but it doesn't mean i can't die."

the silence that fell upon the classroom as you two finished speaking made the words fall with more weight into your heart, it did little to nothing to comfort you as you came to terms with what he said. it shouldn't have been hard - he was just stating a fact -, but it didn't mean that it didn't cut deep for you. you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you were even going to say, but he quickly cut you off.

"logan-" "listen, bub, you told me to start letting people into my heart.. i'm letting you in."

slowly, his hands went to unclasp the chain that always dangled on his neck, dog tags adorning his neck with his names, his identities. you looked in awe as he held them out to you. "gimme your hand, kid." and surprisingly, you did as you were told, holding your hand out as he placed the piece on your hand, feeling the cold metal clink softly as it fell and heat up under the temperature of your palm. you looked up at him, unsure of what it meant, of what this changed between you two, but it felt undeniable, even if unspoken.

“now, these.. they’re very special, bub. a reminder of everything that happened that led to here.. and it’s leading me to you right now.” he explained. “feels right for you to have them, i guess.. keep them safe, kid.”

the silence that fell between you two again was more comfortable, filled with a newfound tension that left much to question, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt with all that noise yet. the only sound filling the room was the breathing and a faint humming of the white noise machine you kept in your room, next by the door. you opened up your mouth again, your mind utterly blank and filled with thoughts and questions at the same time, unsure of which one was going to breach through your mind to materialize out in the cold, tense air.

“.. why me? trust me, i’m flattered, but i’m no one special, logan..” you questioned, and it made him frown.

“you are special. you're special to me.” your eyes widened at the confession and you watched as a soft smile settled on his face, one that made your heart flutter with the sheer tenderness he held in his gaze. “call it what you want.. just know these are yours now.” he said it so calmly, you wouldn't have tought he was handing you his heart, placing it in soft, tender hands and pleading you to not break it, not change it, and instead embrace it and accept it as it came, rough around the edges.

with that, he stood up from the chair, took your hand to squeeze it briefly, and walked out of the room, not before looking back at you one last time, the heaviness that he carried as he entered the room seemingly gone, all that you could perceive was a haze, all too familiar, one that left as quick as it came as his eyes met yours.

pink, warm, and fuzzy all over.

additional author's note: BOOM SHAKALAKA I POSTED FINALLY!! i think it's a little rushed BUT!! it's cause i have a (smutty) part 2 planned for this HEHEJEHE i don't like writing (or reading) series bcs i get sad when they end but i just might.... hehehe... anyway pls lmk what u think!! or i kill off logan 🥰🥰 your choice 🥰🥰

taglist: @allen-444

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confessioncassette · 2 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 @lustylita 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜. 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 • 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 ��𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞. 𝐈𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰.

𝐭𝐰 : 𝟏𝟏.𝟔𝐤 (𝐰𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐥)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬, 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐥

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐎 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞. 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 <𝟑

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐓𝐎 @hurthermore 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐦 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄

You stir awake from a gentle caress fanning your cheek. You grumble in your sleepy state, mindlessly swatting away the plume of smoke.

"No, Umbra. Too early..." But he doesn't listen.

Gentle taps over your nose follow suit. Your eyes flutter open to see the tall shadow looming by the door, grinning wide after you shoot him a glare. Body still drowsy with sleep, Umbra's figure fades from your vision as you let your eyelids fall heavily.

Knock knock.

Fucking hell.

"Sleeping!" You groan and roll over in frustration.

"It's me, my dear."

Your eyes shoot open to that familiar staticy voice just beyond the door. You shoot up in bed and the memories from last night fill your head. Alastor's wounds, his exposed chest, patching him up as he closely watched you-

How he called you weak and forgettable.

Frustration bubbles within your gut and heats up your bloodstream. His presence beyond your door stirs a rather conflicting feeling. It's a longing, a sick and silent prayer for more. You're tethered on an invisible string to his existence, it's unsolicited, and it's disturbing that you even crave it. Why do you crave his attention so badly? Most importantly, why do you let his words linger like the pain of a strike to the face?

Is it because he ignores you? Are you really like that? Craving the attention of a man that discards you as a nuisance? Or is it because you notice his lingering touches or the glances in your direction that you hope there's something more. He's a mystery.

You turn to face Umbra, who's still by the door.

The look on your face must give away your emotions because the dark outline of his body shakes in a silent... laugh? Is he laughing?

You scrunch your face at him and mouth, "what?"

Umbra gives a mischievous grin like he's enjoying your flustered state and shrugs before dissipating through the wall.

"What could you possibly want, Alastor?"

Before you could prepare yourself, Alastor takes it upon himself to open your door and saunter into your bedroom. And like a move he's practiced a million times over, Alastor twirls his cane and strikes the ferrule in a satisfying metal clink.

"The fuck!" You quickly cover yourself with the blanket, "you can't just barge in here!"

"Ah! So we could agree that barging in on someone is impolite?" He hums, absentmindedly picking a piece lint off his suit.

You glare at him. His expression's smug when he lifts his eyes to meet yours.

"Happy to be on the same page."

And suddenly you feel small under his gaze.

Even though you didn't mean to barge in on him yesterday, you still feel a tinge of guilt for not paying attention. From what you've gathered, his sanctuary is his studio. You can dislike the man for being a jerk all you want, but you understand the sanctity of privacy.

That raises a question in your mind though. He had mentioned that it was locked. How were you able to walk in anyways? He seemed so caught off guard yesterday - like he wasn't expecting anyone to just walk right in so easily.

"Again, what do you want?"

When your arms drop down to your lap, Alastor's mind is suddenly in a frenzy. The comforter you covered yourself with now lays over your thighs, the top half of your body exposed in your white nightgown covered in red apples - a gift from Charlie, he assumes. He won't let his composure slip, though. Not with your bed head, the way your sweet morning scent lingers in his nose, or the way your nipples pebble underneath the thin material of your night dress.

And oh, that look on your face. It was tragically... alluring. Similar to a riled up feline ready to strike. Was it hatred? Vexation? Have you crawled under his skin like you've done to him?

Your lips press in a straight line and your brows are tightly knit, but your eyes swim with something more - what a great performance, dear.

Damn that beautiful face of yours. So honest.

He gives a strained, toothy grin, hoping to transfer this feeling to his hands that claw at the top of his microphone. Avoiding any and all... distractions when talking to you.

"I need you to come with me to an outing today. Charlie has come up with the idea of a soiree in hopes to recruit more sinners to the hotel." Alastor diverts his attention to fiddle with his cane.

"A soiree? Like a party?" You could use some excitement around here. You swing your legs over the edge of your bed, feet patting over hardwood to where Alastor stands. His chin dips down to look at you through slitted eyes, lifting a brow.

"A party indeed. A night of socializing, dancing and drinking to your heart's content, my dear. I need to make a trip over to Cannibal Town to see if they'd be interested."

"And you need me to join you for that? What about the hotel duties for today?" Already taken care of. I loathe that I need to keep you in sight.

"Seems like the list gets longer each day."

You mumble and fold your arms over your chest.

Alastor's ear twitches in aggravation. In your perspective, his vermillion eyes set a blaze from your brashness. It's a look you've grown to be entertained by. But you'll never know that it's your sweet scent that hits him, an overwhelming saccharine aroma that almost makes him choke.

"Just get dressed and meet me in the lobby."

The walk to Cannibal Town was painfully awkward. Alastor's strides were hard to keep up with as he didn't bother to slow down for you.

Though it was interesting to see the creatures of hell turn tail at the sight of the Radio Demon, some opted to keep their distance and gawk at him as you both stroll along.

You look him up and down with an inconspicuous side eye. And what a man he is.

He walks confidently- not a step out of place. His every move is almost calculated and precise. He towers over you, arms poised behind his back - a soft smile painted across his face. Despite the way sinners cower from him, he nods kindly to them. He's charming, in a strange way.

"About yesterday..." You begin, eyes fixated on the ground.

Alastors eyes graze you over quickly. "What about it?"

"I didn't realize I was walking into your studio. I'm sorry." You owe him that, at least.

"Your own room is right next door and you didn't notice where you were?"

"I-" You don't know how to navigate this. You knew there was a chance that he wouldn't take your apology easily but how do you even explain what you were doing? Does he know that Umbra existed and lingers around the hotel? Surely everyone knows, the shadow is incredibly social.

“You lack attention to detail and manners. I learn more about you everyday." Alastor's attention shifts to a car speeding by, sinners hanging out the window shouting obscenities.

You purse your lips, doing your best to ignore his comment. "Listen, I don't need the attitude. I just wanted to say I was sorry. It was messed up and

it won't happen again."

Alastor blinks. "Apology accepted, little doe."

"How's the bandage holding up?" You can't help but take a glimpse of his torso. Alastor's eyes remain forward.

"It's holding up a lot better than when I did it myself, I must say."

Yeah, maybe learn to ask for help once in a while.

Other than asking your "help" and tasking you with shit jobs around the hotel, you've never seen Alastor ask for a single thing. Everyone always goes to him when they need something. And that strikes up another question as you recall a conversation from yesterday. Why was he helping the hotel if Angel said it was a form of entertainment? Does any of this mean anything to him?

"Do you believe redemption is possible?" You ask out loud. The words just slip out before your brain could cut the connection down to your lips.

Alastor's relaxed smile widens into a toothy one.

Damn, he hasn't once looked your way. "Why do you ask?"

You shrug. "I think what Charlie is doing is pretty amazing. I mean, rehabbing sinners into winners? From what I can gather of her stories, Heaven sounds like paradise. And..." your focus shifts to someone passed out in the street, two imps sparring with knives, and a group of people openly feasting on something dead. "Cleaner."

You grimace.

"And are you set on crossing those heavenly gates, my dear?"

"I like to think about it. When I was alive, I didn't know where I would end up, but I didn't think that I'd come...here." You carefully switch your footing, avoiding a puddle of god knows what.

Alastor's lips curl, flashing his gums in a tight grin.

"So she’s honest. The hotel really isn't up to your standards, is it? Have we not provided everything to you?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that all my life I've tried to do good and this is how I get 'rewarded'. Spending my eternity here. Was I really that bad?" The last part you ask more to yourself than him. Alastor's pace slows.

"I'd say for a drugged up clutz you ended up in the right place." Alastor's curt voice strikes a nerve and you whirl in front of him.

"I wasn't a druggie, you ass!" Hands balled into fists by your sides, you size him up in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Oh, do please tell, dear." And keep looking at me with detest in your eyes. It's the only thing that will work.

Will it?

Alastor sneers, looking down at you over his nose with a sinister grin. And once again, for the second time, you want to smack that look right off his face. In one wave of pent up emotions, you don't know whether to laugh or cry or punch or scream. You've had enough of his snarky comments.

"My friend was dying. Those drugs were taking away her pain. Not like you'd know. I doubt you've ever cared for anything in your life! You're a selfish prick."

He hums. "Interesting. But there's more to the story, isn't there, sweetheart? No one suffers for eternal damnation because of petty theft." Letting his head fall to the side, his eyes narrow down at you.

Fuck him. "I killed one of the guys who sold me the drugs. Then the others held me down and beat me before they shoved a knife in my neck."

You seethe. “You happy now?”

"Ahh, and there it is.”

Your eyes sting from unsolicited tears. This isn’t fair.

“If you’re so perfect then why are you here?” A pointed finger lands upon his hard chest.

“Oh, my sweet dear, you don’t want to know the atrocities I’ve committed. I belong here.”

Alastor’s eyes darken. "I'm quite happy with the hand I was dealt."

“Then why do you treat me this way? Haven’t I treated you with respect? Why do you talk to me like I’m a nuisance then make me come at your beck and call?” You spread your arms wide, gesturing to the scene. “Why am I even here?”

He could ask that himself.

“It’s because you like to fuck with people.” It’s unfair how his talons sink deep under your flesh. How and why you care so much, you couldn’t say. “Am I a toy? It’s like you want me to hate you.”

How right you are.

"You never even said 'thank you' for helping you with your lists or patching up your wound."

"Oh darling, what is there to be thankful for?"

“You’re disgusting.” And you’re sure to pronounce every syllable clearly.

You hold his stare, hoping to god that you miraculously summon powers strong enough to set his smug-ass face up in flames. You do your best to hold it back, because why are you crying? Your body trembles as a string of salty liquid rolls down your cheek.

Alastor stares intensely, watching a tear glide over your cheekbone. Slowly, he bends at the waist to your level. His gloved hand gently swipes away your fallen tear, a gesture that appears loving but you can't see past your anger.

An emotion swirls within the shades of red in his eyes. His touch lingers over your jaw and you can barely catch your breath. The screams of chaos around you muffle like you’re suddenly

plunged underwater.

Before you can react, his face comes too close. His cheek skims over yours, breath fanning warmth on your ear.

“I must say darling, I’ve been called disgusting by many, but none of them have ever looked at me the way you do.” His voice a lowly whisper.

Your pulse thumps loudly within your skull. His body heat radiates off of him and clings to you, his scent dizzying and maddening. It stirs that conflicting feeling once again. He’s all you can smell. Your thighs threaten to rub together as your core begins to ache. You let out a shaky breath as his nose tickles the top of your earlobe, and it’s all too much. Your face grows hot and you inhale... him.

A familiar scent of soap, lemongrass and whiskey.

All too quickly he takes a step back and stands up tall, leaving your mind in a frenzy. All the warmth that fizzled your body was snatched away in an instant, leaving you to shiver from the feeling.

"Ah!” He exclaims sarcastically. “Looks like we've arrived at our destination." His hand gestures to the door next to you.

The door you’ve been standing in front of the whole time. The door you just lost your shit in front of.

Alastor casually opens it for you, a bell ringing as he does so. An arrogant grin spreads across his face as he waits patiently, and like a fucking gentleman, he gestures for you to go in first. In disbelief, you gawk at him. Disbelief and embarrassment. But you decide it’s not the time to dissect what the actual fuck just happened. Shaking it off, you enter the store.

"Do my eyes deceive me? My word! Is that you Alastor?"

A tall woman dressed to the nines in vintage clothing approaches Alastor and embraces him in a tight hug.

"Oh my stars, Alastor! You look good as new. I knew you’d be okay after the extermination, but you got some balls standin’ up to Adam like that.”

“Aw, Rosie, you’re delightful as ever.” He gives her a loving smile, and for a moment you ponder on how good of friends they are. He’s surely more welcoming to her than others - especially you.

Rosie’s black eyes shift to you. “And who is this beauty?” You take her extended hand. “Rosie, pleasure to meet’cya, darling.” Her hand taps at Alastor’s arm. “Alastor, where are your manners? Is she your little girlfriend? I didn’t take you for one to indulge in such things.”

Alastor’s eyes slightly widen in surprise, a look you’d miss if you blinked, before Rosie swats her hand at him. “Oh don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m just messin with ya.”

Tilting his head to the side and kindly smiling at the woman, he begins to speak like he’s your best pal. Like he actually likes you.

“Actually, this little darling is our newest resident at the hotel. Rosie, I cannot express how great of an addition she is.” His hands slinking around your waist to pull you close to him catches you entirely off guard. You give Rosie your best smile, hoping it doesn’t look as awkward as it feels. “My dear, this is Rosie, the most darling, delightful and dangerous overlord this side of the pentagram.”

She dips low in an elegant curtsey.

The fingers that wrap around your waist tighten, his thumb massages lightly into your side.

“I take it that you're not here to gossip with me, Al. Though I got some good tea on Mr. Thompson, the poor sucker got caught cheatin’ on his 4th wife!” She giggles then takes a breath, smiling kindly to the two of you. “What can I help you with?”

“We’ve actually come to ask a very important question.”

Alastor goes in depth about the soiree that Charlie is hosting this weekend. It seems that Rosie already knows the importance of the Hotel to the princess, so without much convincing she agreed to extend the invite to everyone at cannibal town. Alastor even mentioned that even if the residents here weren’t interested in redemption, they could come for the drinking, dancing and all the food they could want. The bigger, the better. Rosie had also insisted on providing special dishes for her people to snack on. “They’re not too fond of ‘normal’ meat.” She’d give a sharp smile, exposing her pearly dentures of death.

And with that success, the walk home was even more awkward than the first. But within the safety of the hotel walls, you felt like you could breathe freely again. Alastor took no time to run off to god knows where, abandoning you just beyond the entryway doors with a wave of his hand.

"Don't bother me with your list this week." Is all he had said to you, avoiding eye contact before storming off.

Your friends bustle around the lobby, and it's like a breath of fresh air. You watch them each carry some boxes with some type of decorations inside while Charlie frantically paces around with a clipboard in hand.

You finally undress into comfortable clothes within the confines of your room and sprawl over your comforter. Images of today spur in your mind unsolicitedly. The last thing you want to think about is how you absolutely lost your shit in the middle of town, in front of an overlord's emporium, to him - but it's inevitable.

You're too tired to rage, or cry, or laugh- or care. Like a veil being disintegrated, the mental exhaustion had hit you as soon as you walked through that threshold of your sanctuary. Your careless mind, however, wanders through the man who ignores and talks down to you.

How his gloved hands were careful wiping away your tears, or how he was so close that your skin ached for him. How hot your face felt with his skimming over yours. It took every ounce of restraint to not lean into his warmth and beg for him to just touch you.

Umbra manifests at the foot of your bed in a plume of smoke, shadows emitting from his body as he smiles.

"Ugh, what a day," you over-dramatize and roll yourself across your bed.

Umbra slithers over to you and takes a seat on your comforter, crossing one leg over the other so he can rest an elbow over his knee. You know he's ready to listen, he always is. After a long day, he just perches comfortably on a piece of furniture and lets you word-vomit every little thing that crosses your mind.

And he seems to like it, so you indulge him.

"Umbra?" You sigh, staring at the ceiling. "You know Alastor? He's a real prick. Took me to Cannibal town for satan-knows-what and all he did was insult me. I lost my shit in front of the whole town, though I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but still." You take a deep breath.

"The problem is, I have this... curiosity..." Umbra stays silent.

"He's the only person here I don't know much about. I try to connect," bad choice of words, because - is it a connection? What is this feeling that you have? "He just treats me like I'm below him. He makes me feel like shit. Avoids me all day and then when he does talk to me he-" degrades you. Makes your blood boil.

You groan in frustration. You won't cry again, you're too tired. So, you opt to mope and glaze over every embarrassing event that happened to you today on repeat.

Umbra's body emits the sound of tuning a radio, scratching to the chorus of a song.

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too if it happened to you..."

You cringe and lightly kick your foot at the mischievous shadow. "Now you're acting like a jerk too!"

Umbra tunes himself again, landing on a slow ballad.

"You don't remember me, but I remember you. T'was not so long ago, you broke my heart in two. Tears on my pillow, pain in my heart caused by youuuuu..."

You can't help the smile that creeps over your lips. Ass. You reach for a pillow and playfully toss it in his direction, to which (of course) he avoids by dissipating and manifesting on the other side of the bed.

Umbra's music quickly takes a dramatic shift, scratching to a new song.

"Why can't we be friends, why can't we be friends..."

Your mouth drops open in shock and you laugh,

"I didn't know you could play anything made after the stone age!"

The music fizzles out and the shadow laughs with you. Umbra slithers across your bed in a pool of mist and manifests closer to you. He nods his head towards the wall.

The wall that connects your room to Alastor's studio.

He tilts his head and you sense that he's asking you to continue about your little situation.

"There's not much I can do. It's not like I can get him to talk about anything." You huff. "If that's how he wants to be, then so be it. Why waste my time getting someone to like me anyways."

You give Umbra a soft smile. He sees it, what lies beyond your eyes. The tinge of sadness. It's not like you need Alastor to acknowledge you, is it? Disgust swells within your chest.

You're acting like a fool over approval from an overlord. Something tells you that there's more to it.

Umbra's hand comes up to meet your chin before warmth spreads to the back of your neck, like a hand sprawling open to caress your head.

The shadows face is close to yours as he sits there silently comforting you. His touch lingers as you flutter your eyes closed.

What are you thinking?

It's time for you to drop it.

Umbra lets you slip away, turning out of his caress. But his body remains close with eyes focused on you.

You roll over to reach for your phone, opting to mindlessly scroll through socials to numb your brain. But once you do, a slow melody begins to play faintly through the walls from next door. A muted trumpet begins to play over the slow beat of a drum.

You lay silently in bed, letting the rhythm lull you to sleep. Oddly, the thumping bass soothes your soul as gentle hands shift through your hair. You whisp away into a mindless slumber before you know.

The rest of the week leading up to the party was a blur, but a spectacular one. You and Charlie came up with lists for games, food, drinks, music and entertainment for the event. You'd be lying if you said you weren't giddy with excitement for this. It's fresh. New. Angel even took you out on the town to shop for a new dress. And the day before, you helped in the kitchen to bake desserts and triple checked the lists with Charlie to make sure everything was as perfect as she imagined.

All without a word from Alastor.

The entire week you've only caught glimpses of the radio demon. Standing tall, he'd briefly speak to Charlie before catching your eye. He'd give you a quick once over before turning tail to disappear. Not once did you ask for the list, like he asked, and not once did he approach you to give you one.

It's not like you care anyway.

"I think creepy face will go into cardiac arrest the millisecond he sees your tits. It'd kinda like to see that..." You sit at your vanity, watching Angel lounge over your comforter through the mirror as he scrolls his phone.

The dress Angel picked for you was a black satin number. The scoop neckline and bunched up fabric around the breasts flatter your chest beautifully. The length of the dress hugged every curve of your body, and the opening of the slit over your right leg was the icing on the cake.

"And why are we talking about him?"

"Because everyone can see how bad you two wanna fuck each other. Seriously, it's ridiculous. You guys just need ta pound it out, and with that dress he'd have easy access." Angel looks up to wink at you. You shoot daggers at him and ignore his comment.

"Well I heard there will be a special guest tonight." You reach for your makeup and begin.

"Who? Fuckin' Satan? Been there, done that - not worth it."

"Lucifer will be here, I never met him."

You’ve heard of him plenty. He’s the sin of pride. The fallen angel.

Most of what you’ve heard comes from your friends here at the hotel. Stories of when he came to help fight during the extermination and how he was a huge part of the rebuilding of the hotel after it was destroyed. Charlie mentioned that she built a room for him across Alastor’s studio once, but you never bothered to ask where he had been since then.

But again, you’ve only been here a few weeks. The King of Hell must be a busy man.

Angel perks up, "That short king?" He looks you over and grins, "Oh yeah, you definitely have a chance. Hot as fuck and rich too."

"I'm hoping to just have fun tonight. First party in hell and all.” You pause, excitement bubbling. “I want to meet new people, since I’ve been so cooped up here with planning the party and being Alastor’s chore bitch.” You pop your lips after applying some gloss and examine your face in the mirror.

"You won't miss freakazoid?"

"What's there to miss?"

—

You swear you weren’t trying to make a grand entrance with Angel by your side. But it just happened that way.

Angel settled for a more feminine look tonight. Jewelry cascading down his arms and rings litter his slender fingers. The dangling earrings that he paired with a crushed red velvet dress make him look tantalizing.

By your side, your arm looped within his, you walk down the grand entrance steps to the bustling lobby. Music booms throughout the walls, jaunty Jazz from the 50s play lively.

Overlooking the crowd, you must see a hundred people.

This is what this hotel is for.

Sinners also dressed to the nines today. Every single one of them in cocktail attire, happily picking at snacks or nursing a glass in their hand. Come to think of it, this seems a lot more classy than you had imagined it would be, with this being hell and everything.

Charlie and Vaggie invited everyone in Pride, so everyone could come for a night of fun - all while advertising the hotel. Looking around, you see all sorts of sinners and hell born. It’s actually a refreshing sight to see how diverse the crowd is. You almost thought it would just be cannibal town.

You scan the crowd as you descend the stairs for the one demon you wish to forget. Angel laps up the attention beside you, sinners gasping and heads turning your way to gawk in your duo beauty. You give a shy smile, both loving and hating the spotlight.

As you step down the last stair, your eyes fall over vermillion ones by the bar.

Alastor is clad with a different attire tonight as well. A night black suit with satin wingtip collars, a crisp white undershirt paired with a black satin bow tie, all adorned with a crimson red handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket. The same shade of red that matches his sclera.

He’s nursing a whiskey on the rocks at the end of the crowded bar. And if eyes could set you into flames... His heavy stare and expressionless face do not leave yours. You almost feel sick from the butterflies that flutter within your belly. It’s the first time all week you’ve gotten a good look at him.

“Great turnout tonight, yeah?” Angel nudges you and you nod to agree.

“I didn’t expect so many people to come!” You almost had to yell over the music.

“I’m going to make some rounds,” Angel plucks a martini from a waiter carrying a tray, “I’ll see you in a bit. Good luck with Lucifer if you see’m.” Angel kisses your cheek and disappears into the crowd.

You stand there for a moment to gawk at how big this turnout was. It’s still early in the night as no one is dancing just yet. Everyone’s just sipping their drinks, laughing, and indulging in the food spread. Music and the roar of people is almost too much, but for tonight- it feel good. You’re not sure where to start, but you want to mingle and meet new people.

Maybe you could even recruit some sinners for Charlie.

Your head turns in the direction of the bar. You guess you could start with a drink first.

“A cosmo, please, Husk.” You smile at the grumpy cat who’s behind the bar making a drink for someone else.

When he turns to you, to your surprise, he gives you just a lick of a smile. “You look nice, tonight.” Was all he said before making and handing you your drink in record time.

You feel heavy eyes from down the bar, and you do your best to avoid looking in the direction of… him. You see Husk slide Alastor another glass of whiskey from your peripherals.

Avoid.

Don’t even look down that way. The front of the bar is long, big enough for crowds like this. At the ends on each side, the bar extends for more seating. And of course, Alastor sits just to the left of your line of sight at the corner. You nurse your drink right where you are, because fuck, Husk made this strong, and find real estate on a barstool to people-watch.

You feel the presence of a man lean against the bar beside you.

“Not one for parties?” A gentle voice, smooth and sultry, comes close to your ear.

You smile and shake your head, eyes still scanning the crowd of mingling strangers. “No, this is actually my first one in hell. I’m… new. I feel a little out of place.”

“First one? You picked a good place for that. Hell isn’t the place to throw… classier parties like this.” You guess you’re lucky then.

“You go to parties often?”

“Oh, god, no.” The man’s laugh is smooth and low. “I’m only here for Charlie.”

You furrow your brows and turn to face a man in a white suit. His golden hair is perfectly slicked back underneath a top hat, one hand resting over his cane, the other holding a drink. His face paints a lax smile, a smile that would make any woman swoon.

“Lucifer Morningstar, charmed to meet you.” Setting his drink on the bar he extends his hand and you take it. His slender fingers curl in your palm, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” You introduce yourself by name and give a soft smile, completely in awe of the King of Hell standing before you.

“Ah, the newest guest. Charlie has mentioned you quite a bit. How are you liking it?"

Taking a sip from your drink, the alcohol melts warmly over your tongue, sliding down your throat with delicious heat.

"I love it here, it almost makes someone not want to leave."

"It is a slice of heaven compared to the rest of this place. You're looking for redemption?"

You think it over, a finger gently rimming your glass. You don't want to indulge too much in Lucifer, you barely know the man. But then again, maybe speaking to him might help you get a better chance in getting redemption. You look up to the King through thick lashes, ignoring Husk who pours Alastor another refill.

"I am. I didn't think I'd end up in Hell."

Lucifer clears his throat and swigs his drink empty. "It is strange seeing a pretty lady like you down here. May I ask what you did?" He props his elbow up on the bar, casually leaning into it as he awaits our answer.

You shouldn't be shocked by the question, but it does come to you as a surprise. You should keep it vague, you are speaking to a hierarchy here...

"I..." you pick your words carefully as you scan his face for malice, but you find none. "I was trying to help a friend and... killed someone in self defense." That's the best you could do.

Lucifer shrugs and throws you a slack smile, "I don't make the rules, but if I did, you wouldn't be here. I would put faith in Charlie, she'll direct you where you need to go."

You try to smile at his words, but the memories of your sick friend flash into your head. Memories of her coughing up blood when she spoke too fast, her frail body that deteriorated more and more each week, the way her hair would fall out in clumps when you tried to brush it for her. She was poor, and so her family - as were you. You both had to lean on each other for support, her more so to you. She couldn't afford the treatments or the medications and you had to do something. The dealers got greedy. They started out giving you the pills for free, since they knew you both in school. Then, after a while, they would ask more and more from you. Working multiple jobs at once wasn't going to cover the rent, the food, the necessities and her pills. So, you gave up what you could until you had to... do what you had to do.

"Why the long face, princess?" Lucifer coos softly in a way that's undeniably comforting. He leans into your space, concern paints his face as his golden eyes scans your face. You were never good at hiding your emotions... well, not in these types of situations. The soft spot you have for good people made you too trusting. Lucifer was once in Heaven. He was the fallen angel... maybe he would know if God could help your friend on earth. Pain strikes your face and you grimace. You can't fathom the thought of what state she's in right now.

"My friend, she still needs help. And I left-"

"You can't control the wheels of life...or the afterlife." He says simply. "It's a fickle thing, funny how it plays out." His eyes briefly flashed with a sadness you cannot figure out.

You blink. "Thanks, sir-" Maybe he's right. You really can't control the past or what happened to you. You know her family will figure something out...

"Lucifer, please." He insisted. "You'll end up where you need to be." His gloved finger swipes under your chin as the music in the back changes to a classical symphony sung by strings. His face lights up as he snaps his fingers, golden little fireworks pop around his cane before it disappears before your eyes. Lucifer extends a hand to you.

"May I have this dance?"

Downing the last of your drink, you accept.

Taking your hand into his, he gently drags you away from the bar through the sea of sinners. Lucifer fixes his suit before flashing you a toothy grin, fixing his hand into one of yours and his other around your waist.

And in this exact moment, you swear that you feel the temperature from the corner of the bar plummet.

Alastor's body radiates with maddening electricity, his brain going haywire within an instant. The empty whiskey glass cracks under the pressure of his grip as he tries to maintain his composure. His vermillion eyes narrow, never leaving Lucifer's hand against your waist from across the floor for a second. The smile on his face becomes strained, painful almost.

"Another, Husker." Alastor's gravel voice is low.

Lucifer guides you to the beat, swaying you gently within the small space you two have. You follow his lead, almost embarrassed at how close you were to him. He smells of smoked apple and a warm musk, a fond reminder of the holidays when you were alive.

His movements were swift and smooth, both of your hips swaying to the rhythm created by the orchestra that surrounds you. His body feels hard against yours, and your hips tease the feeling of touching, but he stays respectful. Lucifer's golden eyes soften before his face comes close to yours, his lips coming close to speak in your ear.

"I have to apologize, I haven't danced with someone in a while." You didn't even notice, this seems so easy for him. The clean scent of his hair balm wafts through your nose.

You move in closer, swaying your hips slow and smooth to the strings. You relish in the feeling, the music flowing through your veins. The way he had easily allowed you to lead now makes you feel free. You slither over the balls of your feet, making your hips shimmy with ease as he effortlessly spins you in slow circles.

"I think you're a wonderful dancer, Lucifer. It's been a while for me too." You smile into the space between his neck, so close to touching your skin to his. You feel weightless losing yourself within his embrace. You feel like you could-

"Pardon the interruption, but I think you had enough time with the lady."

Alastor's staticy voice pierces through the music, taking you out of this moment. You draw back from Lucifer to see Alastor's hand over the king's shoulder. From what you could guess, it's a dangerous move.

Lucifer clears his throat, annoyance paints his face. "Alastor, can't you see we're..." the king's golden eyes dart to you then back to the demon, "in the middle of something."

"Oh, I see that clearly." Alastor keeps his stare firm over his nose at Lucifer. Weird... you never noticed the indent between his brows before.

"Then mind your manners and wait your turn, we barely made it to the floor." Lucifer laughs lightheartedly, his hand hovers over the small of your back before gently pulling you back into his arms to continue dancing in an attempt to ignore the nuisance.

"I said," Alastor steps forward, a hand now hands roughly over Lucifer's chest with a thump, "I think you've had enough time."

Lucifer mumbles something you can't understand when he looks down to Alastors fist over his chest. Oh fuck, do you intervene? Golden eyes glow with hatred, but the king keeps himself composed.

You guess the two have had many run-ins before, and this was just another day because Lucifer didn't seem too bothered to continue this. You don't even notice the music ending when Lucifer comes close to your ear.

"Find me later, I'm staying at the Hotel this week." And with a whiff of warm apple and mint toothpaste, Lucifer disappears quickly into the crowd. Alastor doesn't give you the time to see where he went. Strong hands pick yours up and position your body the way he wants. Fingertips press into the small of your back as the radio demon murmurs, "posture."

You don't have time to think as Alastor begins to move as the next song begins. His scent muffles every ounce of your comprehension. But what you do take notice, is that his usual scent of whiskey overpowers everything else.

Now what the fuck?

You blink, taking a second to come back to reality. "What the hell was that?"

He doesn't respond, just looking over you mindlessly looking over the crowd. Of course he doesn't. Pompous ass.

Instead, he sways you effortlessly across the dance floor, the crowd making way for him as he does. Your face curls in disgust, but you figure this is the best time to get to him. He's willing to interrupt a moment you had to dance with you, might as well take it, right? It's almost sickening, how twisted your feelings are. But it's even more sickening how he acts as if you're his toy; waltzing around and picking you up when you least expect it. Fair enough for a demon who snatches souls for his own gain. But why, in the ever living fuck, is it you?

Your eyes lift to him, but his gaze is carelessly over your shoulder. You burn with anger.

"I'm talking to you," you say through gritted teeth.

He loathes the choice he'd made. Maybe he's had one too many. He's gone too far.

You had walked in, your dress hugging at every curve of your body and your perfume a promise of broken faith, of untold secrets. It wasn't the first moment he knew his heart would lead to damnation, no, that was the second his eyes landed on you. But tonight, your radiance thunders through him in a way he cannot ignore.

He knew you avoided him. He knows you fight to look his way. What lies beyond your tough exterior? Does he want to know? Have you already showed him? He has a feeling, but is he right?

This invisible string. A moth to a flame. You were the true version of hell, not the physical one he had earned.

Alastor braces himself as he slowly turns his face down to you.

Oh, your eyes.

The sheer look of disdain oozes and pierces down to the core of his soul. If he still had one.

And he loves it.

He tilts his head softly to the side, letting his ears gently fall.

His eyes are glazed over and he carries a strained smile you've come to know all too well.

"So you're not just a dick to me, you're insufferable to everyone around you." You ignore the heat that trickles up your neck and spreads over your cheeks. His gaze doesn't waver as he once again makes you feel small. Like he assesses your every move as a predator. Every blink, every uncomfortable twitch or flash of feeling is under surveillance. It's like a violation of privacy... yet, you let him near still.

Alastor guides you to the left, still carrying a lighthearted dance across the floor.

"My dear, why are you so cruel?" His eyelids droop as he playfully mocks you. You look down to where your eyes meet his chest.

"I was enjoying a dance and you ruined it, do you hate when others have fun?" Alastor cringes like he was shot in the leg, his nose crinkling as he does, but he recovers before you notice.

"I simply wanted to ask you for a dance. I see no harm in that?"

"And what about what I wanted? This is my night to have fun and make friends. You have no control over that."

Alastors face closes into the open space between your neck and shoulder. The hand that laid perfectly over the small of your back twitches.

"You know what you want, you just can't admit it." Fuck. That came out before he could stop it.

"You have no idea what I want, what I like, what I need. But I'll tell you, since you feel the need to be involved in every aspect of my life whenever you want. I want to meet new people. I want to enjoy what time I have here. And for some reason, I can't have a moment's peace when you're at every corner figuring out new ways to get under my skin."

"I don't think you actually know what's best for you, sweetheart." Alastor can't help sliding his hand up the crevice of your spine, pressing his hand firmly to draw you closer. The breath of his nose fans your exposed neck. "You're a funny little thing. All big and tough once riled. I bet you'd give anything to sink your claws deep in my flesh and rip me to pieces right now. Hatred and desire cross a very fine line, my dear." You shudder, goosebumps litter your skin as his smooth voice mumbles in your ear. Your breath quickens.

"But you're just a little doe. A scared, little fawn who acts on pure instinct. Your mind is a frenzy, isn't it? A strange new place. Guilt of what you left behind. Fear of the unknown. You just want to trust, to hold your values true in a world of ruin. It's okay, it's nature. Even the weakest creatures react with veracity when agitated. But you don't mean it, don't you, you sweet little thing?"

Your eyes light with fire and you pull out of his tight embrace.

"I'm not weak. Since you want to pick me apart so badly, let's dissect the great Radio Demon, yeah?"

From far away, tucked in a dark corner, Umbra observes in excitement.

Alastors grin finally turns sinister. His eyes slide to yours and reveal a sadistic ecstasy as you follow his lead across the floor.

"A rampant, vile demon who everyone is afraid of, finds me, a 'little doe so confused and lost' and yet, you cannot go a day without finding ways to be near me. The demon who slaughters innocent people for his entertainment wishes to take me on a stroll for errands, just because. An immoral, sadistic asshole who enjoys others' pain wishes to take my hand in a dance, simply because I was enjoying myself without him around."

Umbra vibrates and slithers up the wall, talons ripping at the wallpaper easily. He can barely control his fever. With a tilt of his head, static grows over the speakers as he changes the song.

"Wouldn't you think someone as horrible as me finds emotionally torturing you entertainment?" He questions.

"Is that truly all this is, Alastor?" It's a little pathetic, right? Doing something without any gain?

He blinks.

"You don't control me. You can't walk all over me and expect me to be okay with it forever. Isn't this exhausting? Don't you grow tired of it?" You decide to play his game. Choke on your own fucking medicine.

You've seen the stares, the anger. Maybe it does mean something.

A new song plays over the speakers, sultry and slow.

"You don't own me... I'm not just one of your many toys..."

"We've never even had a real conversation, isn't that sad?" You tilt your head up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You expose your neck as you arch your back, leaning backwards over his strong hold. Lifting yourself back up, your nose skims the softness of his neck for a brief moment.

"And what makes you think I'd want to have that with you?" Alastor's tongue swipes hungrily over his lips, his eyes scan your body with haste before sliding his arm over yours and taking a hand into his to position you both in a dangerous tango.

You look up through your lashes, and whip your head to the right, extending your arms to guide you in that direction. Alastor follows your lead.

"I think there's more to what you give."

You both step slowly across the floor in a tense tango. Alastor can't help himself by looking down at you from the corner of his eye.

"Don't tell me what to do, don't tell me what to say..."

In a flash with the crescendo of the song, Alastor takes the lead and twirls you two, three times before catching you by your hips. Rough hands dig into your flesh as you take this moment to dip your body, every movement slow, just so he can watch. You expose your neck and press against Alastors groin, heat rising between your legs as you do.

Almost with care, Alastor's hand sprawls over your back to help you lift up to his face. With a rough hand, he slides it all the way to the base of your neck and curls his fingers around you, holding you close to his face without room to budge.

You have to admit, he's one hell of a dancer.

Your body speaks to him, reacting in a way it never has. You both are in sync, always subconsciously knowing what the other will do next.

You've never felt so... free. Just the two of you, alone, speaking with dance like no one is watching... yet, hundreds of eyes are actually watching the great display happening on the floor.

Fiery eyes are stilled to yours, like he's speaking a million things at once to you without words, before letting you lean back again to circle your head to the beat of the song.

"You don't own me, don't try to change me in any way..."

Pushing back up, you curl your leg around his, and his hand scans over your thigh with fever. You swallow, unable to fathom any thought through your brain as your heart tries to keep up, thundering loudly through your head.

Alastor leans backwards so you can fall forward over him and he drags you across the floor.

Your arms drape over his shoulders, one leg clinging to him and the other that stabilizes you, stays taught. So close. Whiskey and bad decisions haze your vision. All you can see are those vermillion eyes pouring into your soul. The soft bump of his nose touching yours, his chest that presses firmly against you, his arms exploring without thought...

Breaking away, Alastor twirls you hand over head as you stay on the balls of your feet. With each spin, he guides you, his face is a blur, until he stops you.

"I don't tell you what to say, I don't tell you what to do..."

"My turn to take the lead." He mumbles before positioning you back to form. Step by step,

Alastor guides you backwards, but you're quick to follow. Seductively, you sway your hips, pressing your lower belly over his, you earn a lowly growl from him.

"Behave."

"I'm not doing anything, simply dancing with you." You say, eyebrows raised.

He steps to the side with his hand extended to you, taking it, he spins you into him. Your back now pressed against him, feeling every muscle move beneath you. You let your head loll to the side, and he takes up the missing real estate. His breath fans into the crevasse of your neck, tickling and awakening every part of your body as you grind your hips into him to the beat.

Alastor grows hard with every movement you make. His body aches with need.

"You know what you're doing..."

"Do you want this?" You whisper, not knowing what path you're going down.

You break away and step by step, seductively walking around him until you're facing him once again.

Alastor swallows. It's probably the most 'human' you've ever seen him.

He lifts a hand to caress your cheek and opens his mouth to say something-

Before you say something first.

"Is this... pathetic little sinner causing so much distress, Al?" You’ve never used his nickname before, and this shocks him as well. Glowing red eyes widen for just a moment before you take him into the waltz once more and he does so without question. This time, he leaves zero space between the two of you.

Every movement you give that requires an ounce of space, he's right there pressing into you like his life depends on it.

Your scent, the fire in your eyes. He needs you day and night. How fucked is this? He wants to breathe you in, fill you to the brim and never let you leave his sight. It's feral. It's a primal urge that he has only felt for carnage.

"I think," you look up at him, puffing out your lips. "That you hate that you can't have me all to yourself." You bring your face close to his.

You have the control now.

"You know nothing."

"Right, because, what did you call me that one time? Forgettable?" Alastor's grip on your hands tighten. You make a move to grind up against his cock once again.

“Insolent girl.” He growls.

"If that's what I am to you, then I'm sure you wouldn't mind me dancing with someone else. Maybe going out to lunch with someone else on my break? I'm sure you wouldn't care if I fuc-"

"Enough." He barks. You grin. His eyes grow dark and static pricks against your skin. Maybe these drinks in hell are a lot stronger than those on earth, because you're feeling like you can say and do whatever the fuck you please without reason. It's so nice to mess with him without fear. You break the dance and look up at him sweetly.

"Thank you for the dance, Al. It was a pleasure." Turning on your heels, you leave him on the dance floor.

Once out of sight from the hundreds of eyes, you dart to the bathroom to catch your breath. What a thrill. Gripping the marble of the sink you hunch over and laugh nervously.

Holy shit. Ha ha!

Oh the look on his face.

You've never seen him that drunk, let alone that riled up. What the fuck even was that? Never in a million years you'd think someone who loathes you so much would be in the right mind to ask someone to dance with them, then gets mad when you bring up shit they've done.

Hypocrite.

It's hilarious.

Manifesting through the marble tile, Umbra appears behind you. Your eyes meet his wispy figure through the mirror before turning around to face him.

"You should've seen it! I really fucking got him. All that messing around he does with me, I gave him a taste of his own medicine and he tweaked!" Umbra pounces and swirls around your body with excitement. The shadow embraces you in a warm hug, most likely congratulating on finding the balls to stick up for yourself.

The happy moment doesn’t last long, no, you can't even bask in it, because just after Umbra twirls your hair in silent glee, his body fizzes up and fills the room with static. You blink and he’s gone.

The door to the bathroom bursts open with a slam and Alastor’s tall form strides in, stalking aggressively up to where you stand.

“Do you think this is a game?” He snarls, lips curled in anger, showing his sharp teeth.

You’d be shocked, more at the unsuspected intrusion, but you’re not much so at the situation. He always had found a way to you. Always. And with you abandoning him on the dance floor in front of hundreds of people, it was only a matter of time that you’d pay for it with his words.

“Whatever do you mean?” You coo, batting your lashes at him, lifting your chin to his down casted grimace. Taunting him, giving him what he deserves.

Whiskey finds its way into your nostrils.

“Insulting me, teasing me… Leaving me on the dance floor is poor taste, you know.”

”Are you upset, Mr. Radio Demon?” You tilt your head and his eyes flare.

“You disrespectful little-“

”And what are you going to do about it?”

Within a second Alastor curls his large fingers around the nape of your neck and pushes you against the bathroom sink. The cool marble filters through your dress and you shiver at the feeling. Alastor presses you against the counter with his body, your hips ache at the hardness against your waist. Unable to move your head, you cast your eyes downward over the beautiful swirls of the marble.

Alastor takes his other hand to slide up your thigh and curl his fingers around your hip, the sharpness of his claws pinches your flesh under his gloves. He applies pressure to your waist, tilting your ass out so you’re pressed firmly against him, with nowhere to go.

“Ala-“

”You want to play games? You’re insufferable. I’ll play your game, but I’m in control, you understand that?”

You whimper.

“Do you understand that?” He asks again, and you nod. Heat flares deep within your core and you find it hard to rid the feeling. Rubbing your thighs together to ease the fire, he growls in your ear. The warmth of the alcohol on his breath sends you into a dizzying hypnosis. Whisps of his hair tickle your cheek, and you moan.

Easing up on the pressure, Alastor moves, bringing the hand that gripped your wait down between your legs.

“Yes-“ you whisper, unable to control yourself from saying it. You knew it. You knew there was something more. You knew there was a reason why he despised your existence.

It was because he felt something for you.

Fingers trail down and down, close are closer to your core, but he misses it completely. You sigh, disappointed, or maybe embarrassed that you thought he would-

Gripping your silk dress roughly, he rips it up and over your hips, bunching the fabric over your torso. The cool air of the bathroom pricks your skin and your now exposed ass feels the fabric of his suit fully.

“Look at me.” He commands, growling feverishly in your right ear.

You’re so lost in the moment that you’ve barely heard him. The hand that clung to the nape of your neck now slithers over your throat, softly but firmly squeezing to get you to react how he wants. You gasp and your head falls backwards into him, his hand is reluctant to follow, keeping the pressure over your windpipe.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flutter up to the mirror. You were a mess. You hair disheveled and he’s barely touched you. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, there is no going back now. Your eyes were the gateway to what your soul wanted, what your soul needed. And sliding your eyes over to him, you could see the same in his look.

Pressed tightly against your body, Alastor looks like a predator who can’t hold back. The claws were already in the prey, and he’s ready to snap its neck for the kill.

His hair is disheveled as well, eyes glowering and piercing right through yours through the mirror. With a look like that, you swear he could shatter it.

With half of your body now exposed for him, he slides his fingers down to your core and presses.

“Oh-“ You groan, rolling your eyes in ecstasy.

Alastor lets out a breath he’d been holding and begins to draw tight little circles over your clit. The feeling is euphoric, and you can’t help grinding your hips back into him. Your body uncontrolled, a mess, a pure state of lust.

Grinding yourself over him, the hardness on your back is apparent. From what you can feel, he’s thick and long. You moan at the thought.

“You think it’s so funny to fuck around with me. You think you have so much control over me.” He tightens the grip over your neck and you mew. It’s getting more and more difficult to stand…

”But, my dear, you don’t realize that you were never in control.” He pauses, “such a funny little thing.”

Keeping eye contact through the mirror, you swear his eyes soften at you for a split second. Something glistens behind those angry eyes.

His finger dips under your panties to feel your wetness and you shiver in response. He slides your slick up back to your clit, wetting it nicely for him. You couldn’t help but buck in his hold, which he allows you to do. Everywhere else of your body is cemented solid to him.

”I can’t-“ You murmur, feeling the tightness in your core about pop. You’re on fire, every fiber of your being is buzzing with need. Your eyebrows furrow and you open your mouth to pant, feeling every ministration of his fingers. With every circle, he hits every point of your bud and you can’t think straight. You can’t think of anything else but his touch, his warmth and his eyes pouring every emotion through yours under the dimly lit bathroom.

Alastor pulls away.

You attempt to lunge forward in disappointment. No, you were so close. Tears well up in your eyes, “please,”

But Alastor ignores you as he brings his hand up to suck your juices off his fingers.

“You taste so sweet, like I thought you would.”

Keeping the hand over your neck, Alastor then uses his free hand to unzip himself from his pants, all while maintaining his eyes right on you.

“I wanted to-“ He begins but quickly stops himself.

He’s panting too. His breathing is so rapid and deep that you feel every movement of his chest against your back. He’s losing his control, and you’re seeing this in real time.

Alastor swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs when he does and you feel his cock slide between your thighs. Gasping at the feeling over your underwear, you still.

��Please,” you beg.

”Please what? I want to hear you say it.” He grinds himself between your legs and the slick inside your panties make the fabric slick with ease. His cock caresses every inch of you, right to the clit. His cock head peaks out from between you when he thrusts all the way forward, gloriously bumping into your clit with every move. He’s red and leaking with precum. All with desire.

You lick your lips. His gaze is heavy on you now. You want him. You didn’t even realize that you have until now, but now it’s all you want. You want to feel him deep inside you, no, you need him deep inside you. Emotions come over you in waves like the sea. You clinch yourself over nothing, thinking of how he can fill you up, touch you and kiss you until you can’t think of anyone or anything else. For the first time in Hell, you feel seen. Not just seen by anyone, but seen by him.

Like you’re the only thing that matters in this shitty place. Like he wants this as much as you want this.

“What do you want.” He says lowly in your ear, a little gentler this time, breaking away the pressure over your neck. Soft lips find your cheek and his breath fans over your skin with a tenderness you can’t pinpoint.

“I want you, Alastor. Please.”

”Such a good girl,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue over your jaw to taste your flesh as he side eyes you through the mirror. Nothing or anyone will take his gaze from you.

Brushing your panties aside, Alastor’s head presses against your opening. You wait with baited breath, excited to feel him and you shiver.

”Keep your eyes on me when I enter you.”

And you do. Alastor doesn’t look down, doesn’t readjust himself, his eyes remain fixated on your disheveled state when he pops the head of his cock inside. You arch at the intrusion and it feels like all the air in your body is being sucked out from the depths of your soul. He doesn’t stop pushing, pushing, pushing. His length sends your mind haywire. Your brain short circuiting at the length of him, at the thickness of him.

Bottoming out, Alastor sighs with a hungry groan.

“I don’t know if I can control myself…” His voice barely a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper back and grind your hips back onto him. This earns a growl from him and an arm wrapping around your torso. Without any warning, Alastor pulls out, dragging his cock slowly along your walls, bringing the head of his cock to the tilt and roughly thrusting back inside you.

“Alastor, oh fuck.”

The demon pumps himself roughly into you, bruising your hips against the counter with his force. Quickly the bathroom is filled with sounds of your slick clicking in the echos of his skin slapping against yours.

“Amazing, you feel amazing.” Alastor brings his head down to bite at your neck, lapping up the pain with his tongue to soothe.

“So- good,” you manage to say in between his brutal thrusts.

The vice you had on his cock sends him in another dimension. Your walls gummy, soft and slick. You are so wet for him. The smells of your pharemores drive him deeper and deeper into a psychotic madness he didn’t think he could feel other than the thrill of killing.

Strong thighs slap against your ass and your body begins to feel weightless as Alastor’s grip on your body is strong enough to keep you lifted after every hump he gives you. Glowing vermillion eyes find your eyes once again in the mirror, his facade fading with every movement.

He’s slipping into the euphoric feeling of your body, no, the feeling of everything that you are. He won’t last long. His cock twitches deep inside you and his brows furrow in a beautiful pain.

He wants to breed you, fill you deep with his cum until you can’t feel anything anymore. Your pussy will become the shape of his cock and he will ruin you for anyone else… but for now, he’s lost in the moment with you. Lost in the warmth of you that he loathes. That he can’t bring himself to admit just yet.

Maybe it could be just this once. He could get lost in this feeling for this this one time and it will be it. He will have his fix for now, and remember it forevermore.

That will do.

The look on your face, the heat of your skin sends him to a tipping point. The ledge keeps getting close and closer for him to jump off. Your pussy twitches and he can see it in your eyes that you want to release, but not want this to end. Was this something you wanted too?

Can’t be.

But he will give you what you want.

So with that, Alastor removes his arm from around your waist and carefully brings you down to the floor, your heels landing with a click. Fingers find your bud once again to give a rough, but calculated, pace to set you over that edge.

Murmuring words that you don’t understand, his touches feed into your need. His rough thrusting and fingers fill you with this reassurance of loving desire and wantedness that drives you mad. Lurching forward over the counter, you can’t take it. Your knees buckle and this counter is your saving grace. Holding all your weight over the marble you push your ass back into him with his rhythm.

Alastor’s hands grip your waist and hump into you like a wild animal, like his life depends on it. Feeling your ass bounce back into him drives him to insanity, but all he wants to look at is your tear filled eyes, right as you’re about to cum.

Your vision blurs without warning and you come undone over his cock. Shaking and grinding over him as you ride out your high, your eyes roll to the back of your head. Waves of fire flutter under your skin as you become inhuman from your orgasm. You feel like you’re not even here, but riding high over a cloud.

“Fuck,” Alastor breathes, mesermized at the sight and picks up his pace. “I’m going to breed you.”

One, two, three thrusts into your wet heat send him over that edge. Hot cum spurts deep within your walls with a snarl and you groan at the feeling. Twitching his fingers over your skin and panting, Alastor humps you deep, folding over your body to get his cum deeper inside you. Like an unhinged animal, Alastor growls and roughly sinks his teeth into the nape of your neck.

You, yourself, find yourself panting as you come down from your high. You feel so full of him, so hot and full. Giving yourselves a moment to catch your breath, Alastor slows his thrusts, gradually coming to a stop.

He doesn’t want to leave. He can’t find himself to do it, but he must.

Licking the now wound that lay upon your neck, Alastor sucks up the blood as a last homage, a last taste of your skin before gently helping you stand.

You both face the mirror for a moment. Alastor quickly fixing himself back into his suit, picking off a piece of lint before stilling.

Fixing your dress, you find it uncomfortable to turn around to face him. After all the things you could have done together, this was the most awkward. You want to turn around to face him, hug him, maybe even plant a kiss over his soft lips.

But before you could even finish the thought, Alastor’s eyes look somber as he fixes your hair.

“Alastor,” you begin.

Alastor’s lifts his gloved hand to gingerly caress your face before looking down at the floor and walking out of the bathroom.

#alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #Alastor #hazbin hotel smut #Hazbin hotel x reader

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shirefantasies · 2 days ago

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hi, feeling nervous to ask so I’m sending this anon

If you haven’t already, could you do a hurt/comfort imagine? Like YN is hurt, either from a fight, ptsd, poor health etc, and imagine the types of comfort?

thank youu 💜

Sure! Since no character was mentioned I chose one and went a mental health route, hope that's ok! A comfort character fr though 🥺

Safe Right Here- Faramir x F!Reader (Drabble)

Warnings: angst (with comfort), past emotional abuse, mentions of self-destructive thoughts

One word. One word was all it took sometimes. A single phrase could push one off the precipice of memory. A chasm dark and inescapable, deep as life and death and everything in between. Such was it that when you fell, you wondered why you had ever been alive in the first place. Why one who failed to earn love was cruelly thrust into a world she was so unfit for. Why being called a maker of twisted, idiotic mistakes felt so akin to being dubbed the mistake itself.

So many things seemed to come naturally for all but you. Behaviors and unspoken rules. You needed them spoken, and when they were it was often done mockingly or in annoyance. Perhaps they were right- you simply were a burden.

"What is wrong?"

"N-nothing," you stammered, realizing how foolish you must have looked with tears pouring down your reddened face, "Nothing that matters."

"It matters," Faramir replied, kneeling at your side, "If it is bothering you. It matters to you. And it matters to me.”

Something about his emphasis, the way Faramir could speak so firmly in confidence and yet so softly, broke you. Was it foolish to hear love in his words? Perhaps, and yet there you were collapsing into his arms.

“Why? Why am I so wrong?” You sobbed.

“Wrong?” Faramir tilted his head, stubble shifting along the top of your head with a light scratch. “Wrong about what?”

“About nothing. I am just wrong,” you breathed, chest heaving with each attempt to speak, “I have nothing to show for myself. No family, no work to take pride in. Nothing complete to my name and no understanding of it all. Everything is so difficult for me. Why was I even born?”

Warmth fell upon you. New warmth beyond the tight hold of Faramir’s arms, the smells of woods and smoke clinging to the fabric and leather that embraced you. Moisture. Tears tumbled from Faramir’s blue eyes, ephemeral diamonds adorning the crown of your head. Diamonds of pure sorrow. A fitting crown indeed.

“My heart shatters to even hear you speak these words, but I confess I have spoken them too. Whispered them into the darkness in many a solitary moment,” Faramir admitted, arms winding even tighter, “But to hear them like this, coming from the lips of one so sweet? I may not be able to convince you, but they are lies. Poisonous lies.”

“They feel so real.”

“Right up until they destroy you,” Faramir agreed, his head resting over yours, “I almost threw my life away because of them but I know it would be true forfeit to see you do the same. My brother would not have wished this life for me. For you. Those who love you would feel the pain of that loss every day of their remaining lives.”

“Who-”

“I love you,” he cut you off, offering a knowing smile as compensation.

“And I you,” you replied softly, nuzzling closer until his words sunk fully in, giving you pause, “Wait, you almost…?”

“Yes. For Gondor. And perhaps a bit for myself, too.”

“Anything to give them what they want and see if the tang of blood takes the poison from their mouths. But you are kind, you are wise. You are enough.”

Faramir nodded, lightly scratching your head again. Your heart warmed, spreading through your body even against the cold stone floor on which you sat.

“And here I thought I was comforting you,” Faramir chuckled, a deep sound reverberating against your joined chests.

“See how well you’ve done?” You half-chuckled, half-sobbed, giving your first tentative smile. “It is easier when you are here. The rest fades.”

Kissing the top of your head lightly, Faramir circled a hand over your back, faint pressure bringing tingles down your spine. Sensation that drowned out the buzzing cries of your head.

“You are safe with me. Safe right here,” he affirmed.

Exhaling more tension, you tightened your grip, fingers flexing against his doublet.

“Together we can find the power to make the world of our dreams one day at a time,” Faramir told you, “One day after another I will remind you you have a safe home in my arms. Let me be your shield.”

“And let me be your armor,” you murmured, finally relaxing fully into his embrace.

“Armor,” Faramir echoed with a smile, “Forged perfectly for each other. I like that. Perfect for one at least, for you suit me just as you are.”

This time he tilted your chin, lifting your teary gaze to meet his and your head to nod before he pulled you in for a gentle kiss upon your lips.

“Nothing more,” he whispered, “Nothing less.”

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @kpopgirlbtssvt @rivendell-poet | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #faramir #faramir x reader #faramir x female reader #female reader #hurt/comfort #ask #anon #requested

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perfectlyoongi · 2 days ago

Text

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who spends summer days at a lake with you. the tranquility of nature was enough to make Taehyung feel completely relaxed. adding you as company only improved his entire experience. when the days started to get longer and the heat was suffocating, Taehyung would always ask if you wanted to forget the world. “let’s run away,” he used to say. “let’s run away and forget all our responsibilities. just me and you. away from everything that holds us back and hurts us.” and you accepted, you always accepted. partly, you accepted it because you knew it would make Taehyung happy – that was what you had agreed upon; but there was also a part of you that accepted it because you knew that those days, away from everything that distressed and hurt you, were the closest you would get to heaven.

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who takes you to balls all over the world. Taehyung was a devoted fan of that mystical magic that surrounds fairy tales. there was something in that divine hope that held Taehyung and made him want to dream. as such, he just wanted to try to recreate the enchantment he felt whenever he heard or read a more fanciful story – and the best way to reproduce all that magic was by going to small, beautiful dances. Taehyung didn’t care about dates or places or themes – it was all irrelevant. all he wanted was to know what time he should pick you up so you could spend an endless night in each other’s arms. of course, having already experienced a considerable number of dances Taehyung had a favorite: on the warmest spring nights, when the birds began to learn the symphony of joy and all the stars created sketches of enchanted stories, Taehyung liked giving himself to you. always keeping you close to him, holding your waist as if the secrets of the cosmos were in his hands, looking at you with the radiance stolen from the most romantic gods, Taehyung liked those spring dances, for it was in them that all the celestial magic covered you in a tenuous cloak of dreams. “there will be a masquerade ball this summer. do you want to go with me? we can have clothes made to match your favorite color.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who asks you to sleep there more often than he should. yes, Taehyung knew you had a meeting early tomorrow. he also knew that all your clothes were in your house. and yes, it was obvious he knew you couldn’t sleep comfortably without your pillow. but, did you know? did you know how much your presence calmed Taehyung? did you know how your words were the only ones that could lull Taehyung into a deep sleep? did you know that without you Taehyung simply couldn’t have a good night? so if you knew, why don’t you just stay there with him? in his bed? being wrapped in his nervous arms as he whispered to you how grateful he was that you made this effort for him – why did you want to abandon him? “just tonight, please. i’ll take you to work tomorrow and you can sleep with me a little longer. it won’t do you any harm. you know how much i enjoy being here with you.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who can get you into any event. Taehyung didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘impossible’ when it was about you. you were a special person, someone who had a certain charm and was capable of molding the entire universe in your image if you wanted it – Taehyung just had to pamper you. you being the owner of all the celestial dust that enchanted the world and made Taehyung a real person, only made he use his influence as his thanks. fashion shows, autograph sessions, gallery openings, anything you wanted – Taehyung knew you better than anyone, he knew where you liked to go, what you liked to do. always accompanying you, getting lost in your wide smile and the way your eyes sparkled when you saw something you really liked, Taehyung took you to experience the world; there was no experience that left you curious, there was nothing forbidden for you. everything you wanted was yours long before you asked for it. “don’t hide anything from me. all i want is to keep you happy in this relationship. and if i have the possibility of increasing this happiness, just tell me. it’s everything to me. you are everything to me.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who gives you a black card to spend on your birthday. on every birthday of yours you woke up with a bouquet of flowers and an envelope addressed to you – Taehyung did everything he could to make sure the first thing you saw on your birthday was that little gift from him, so you could try to understand how much you meant to him. the flowers you received were always the same, your favorites in your favorite colors, wrapped in paper sprayed with Taehyung’s perfume; the envelope, however, the envelope was the real gift. a small, white card came signed in Taehyung’s handwriting and next to it was Taehyung’s black card. on that day of yours, not as different as the others, but more special to you, Taehyung would give you the opportunity to go shopping alone or with your friends and spend as much as you could. it was always the same gift, always the same card, always the same ritual – but for you, it was everything. “happy birthday, darling. have fun during the day, and don’t forget that this night you are mine. xx”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who likes it when you wear the clothes and jewelry he gave you when you’re not with him. Taehyung liked to give you gifts; it was always charming to see your curious eyes opening the bags or boxes, your smile painting Taehyung’s dreams. as such, Taehyung offered you everything: shoes, coats, necklaces, even the groceries for your home – anything that could be bought could very well be offered to you. but of everything he gives you, of seeing you happy with so many things, he would have to confess that when you went out to have fun or relax and use something he offered, Taehyung’s heart smiled a little more. it may seem strange, maybe even childish, but when Taehyung knew that you were walking around the city showing off the clothes and necklaces he had given you at the beginning of your relationship, he felt closer to you, you felt closer to him. seeing you in those clothes when you didn’t have anything planned with him made Taehyung believe that your relationship could very well turn out to be something more. “i saw your instagram story and i just want to say i’m glad you’re still wearing those boots. they look good on you. you look good with everything, but yea. i called just to tell you that.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who kisses you under the eiffel tower. on your longer trips, when neither of you needed to worry about dates and deadlines, Taehyung liked to take you to Paris. it was in the magic of that city that Taehyung hoped your love would blossom. it was in the beauty of that city that Taehyung fell even more in love with you. and it was in the hope of that city that Taehyung declared himself to you again and again and again. under the stars, in the endless nights of aimless stars, Taehyung kissed you. once. and another. and another. and another. he didn’t need to say anything, there was no need for that – Taehyung just had to gently hold your waist for you to understand what he wanted, what he would do. they were tender kisses that covered your heart with security and comfort, small confessions of love that would forever remain embedded in your soul. and only this magic happened in Paris – until he finds the courage to recreate it at home.

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aruanimess · 2 days ago

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Round three, of me endlessly yapping on Reverse AU. I am still VERY new to this.. tumblr asking, notes and whatnot, so.. I apologise if I seem somewhat annoying and bothersome Anyway, less 'bout me, more on blondes! I'm going to try spitballing a few ideas there and there, because I don't have ONE big topic/arc to really focus on, so here we go!

1; Armin being captured after his identity is figured out. There are.. three way's of this going, in my opinion. >First, being that they managed to successfully take him down into the tunnels to capture him, possibly after some convincing by Annie, since he trusts her a lot? (Plus, if Armin sticks around to around S3 when they're all in that Cabin, hiding away from the Military Police and all. I think Annie and Armin would be.. somewhat awkward, between each other. Since, she cares for him, a lot and.. betrayed him.) >Second, same scene where his identity is discovered and remains at the top of the staircase, but more or less breaks down because he doesn't know what is right anymore, he cares for his new found friends, the thought of betraying them crushes his heart, so he gives up and surrenders peacefully. >Third, transforms and makes a run for the walls to dip, which could ALSO go multiple ways, but.. I don't really have much on that. 2; Warriors Reveal, though Armin is now in the midst of it. I cannot see Armin ever betraying Paradis Island and trying to capture Eren (a second time, mind you), now that Reiner decided to reveal their identites to the same bloke he tried capturing too - yikes. Armin could very well try making them surrender, in a subtle way so the situation doesn't escalate, nor turn his own comrades against him. So, he tricks them and everyone. Transforming along the other two to capture Eren, only to fight Reiner along with Eren but obviously ending in failure with Bert's Titan crushing them. On one hand, I think Bert would try getting Armin, though Reiner is too focused on the mission, he ditches Armin and makes a run for it.

3; Armin still gets captured by the Opaki, though he saves Annie from being the one to be captured by it. As fun and simple it would be if she was the one to be yoinked, so they couldn't use the power of the Colossal and rescue her, I decided to go differently with this. While Armin does end up getting captured, he isn't terrified that he can't protect his people, that they need him, without him he'll die. No, he's accepting his fate. They have Annie, they can still blow up the Doomsday Titan and they'll all be fine, he may die but will die at least doing something right for them, finally doing something useful after betraying his friends, and putting his life down on the line, as their Commander.

(I also agree he'd still be the next Commander that Hange would put the title upon, so.. it sorta means a lot, like he finally is one of them in some way? - I dunno, spitballing!) But, ahaa.. Yeah, that isn't happening. Annie is not letting that blonde go, despite they have a clear winning shot here, she is not about to let him die. Not now, there is still more to be said to him, with how she feels. So, the mission of saving Armin is once more! AND, to end it off, I like to think he'd still be suicidal and jump for the Parasite to hold it down along with Reiner, even if there's a chance of him dying from the Colossal's explosion.

I apologise having to read this entire shit-show of ideas in your inbox, I doubt I'll do more to not seem too big of a yapper, but we'll see! I hope everything is going well for you, have a wonderful day/night! Now, I depart. Toodles!

Hello, Rux!!

Please, never apologize for sending an ask! I absolutely love hearing your ideas and I’m very happy to know the reverse AU still resonates with people :D

Okay, now let’s see:

1. I do prefer the second scenario in the staircase scene. Armin at this point has nothing waiting for him back in Marley and as a character he generally prefers ending conflicts with talking rather than fighting so I believe he’d rather strike a deal and resolve this through diplomacy.

2. Now for the Warriors reveal… we do have to consider that this scene occurs very soon after Armin’s own reveal. Like it’s all happening within three days tops. There’s always the possibility that he’s too busy getting interrogated within an inch of his life to even attend these events.

Personally, I’m more curious as to whether Reiner and Bertolt would attempt to convince Zeke to launch an operation to “rescue” Armin at that point, or write him off as a lost cause. I think there’s potential for drama and bitterness in both cases. In the first scenario, you have a Reiner who fought to save Armin getting betrayed by someone he considered his friend, while in the second scenario, you have an Armin even more estranged by his peers in Marley, sad and disappointed they never even cared for him.

3. Here you’re gonna have to forgive me, because I respectfully disagree.

While Armin and Annie would absolutely act the way you described in the event of Armin getting captured by the Okapi Titan, I don’t see why the Founder Ymir would bother to kidnap him. In canon, she only does so because he’s the Colossus and is the only one with the power to stop Eren. So I’m afraid that our girl Annie would have to be the one getting choked by that tongue… (well that was a sentence I’d never thought I’d write xD)

As for the Commander part… I don’t know. On one hand, I do see how meaningful such a gesture would be from Hange, accepting Armin as one of their own wholeheartedly. On the other hand, the idea of an outsider coming in to “save” the Paradisians from their plight and lead them to the truth makes me feel kind of uncomfortable.

Personally, because I’m a useless bisexual with a one track mind, I’d love to see how Commander Annie could work. At the very least I’d like to consider the possibility of her assuming a leadership role. She’s not an out of the box thinker like Armin in canon, but she is very practical and very decisive when it comes to battle. In another world, raised alongside Eren and Mikasa and not as confined by her father and her circumstances, I can see her developing a keen eye for solutions, maybe not outrageous strategies, but clean simple yet effective and devastating in their consequences plans. She’s ruthless, she’s perceptive and she’s willing to give up her life to achieve her means.

Honestly? I’d love to see it explored.

#asks #armin arlert #annie leonhart #aruani #reverse au

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unnaturalequilibrium · 2 days ago

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Capítulo 7

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

Fina in that green dress - she is beautiful. Damn. She also is Isidro’s daughter through and through, she too seem to have that way of getting people to open up, getting them to accept her advice and comfort. She is soft and reassuring as Claudia spills her mistakes with Tasio. And Fina’s hug looks so nice. I’m pretty sure this is what “everyone needs a bosom for a pillow” means and I agree, they do. To get lost in her embrace looks like it could solve a great many personal problems and maybe a few societal ones too. I don’t know if it’s the solution to climate change, but if 2025’s Nobel prize winners tell me it is - well I won’t be surprised. I also like that she one hundred percent share my exact opinion of Tasio, he is trash, unredeemable trash and should be avoided like the plague.

Aww, Fina arguing her case that a marriage doesn’t equal happiness and that her father shouldn’t be so quick to wish one upon her. The old man really just wants her to be happy, you can tell though that it’s a conversation that makes her ill at ease because of the way she has to stretch and stitch the truth in her replies. I already know it’s going to hurt a lot when he later on rejects her.

Marta confronting Elena - I know that it won’t officially happen for another hundred plus episodes, but Marta is the boss. The way she just slides into that armchair and takes hold of the entire office with what seems like nothing more than an innate sense of authority and a raised eyebrow - yeah, she exudes in charge. But I enjoy the little exhale at the end as Elena leaves. Like so much of who Marta is at this point this too is a game face. Maybe she carries it with what looks like ease, but it might actually come at a fairly high price, just not one we’re allowed to see yet.

Petra, I’m telling you - back off the Marta insults, or - If I remove myself from the narrative though, I love this. I love how they try to build Marta up as this stick in the mud, firm, cold and distant. Unsmiling, no sense of empathy, all business and with very little sympathy. If I hadn’t know what was to come maybe I’d buy it, maybe I’d laugh along with Petra as she mocks and says that Marta needs to smile more. Because yeah, all we’ve seen of her so far actually fits that vision of the demanding ice queen, except for these brief micro-expressions on Marta’s face when no one is looking, when she doesn’t have time to catch her true reaction. When Damian brings up marriage and children, when Elena turns her back, when Fina confronts her and tells her she demands a lot of respect. For a second you see something else, but only for a second, before it is hidden behind the wall again. So yeah, if I had watched this for the first time I would probably have thought of Marta as a bit of a bitch to approach with extreme caution.

That said, back to the narrative, fuck Petra. Fina is a fucking cinnamon roll and I ache so hard for her as this woman clearly leads her on, only to slam the door in her face and call her disgusting as wine and a win makes Fina bold enough to go for a kiss. And invertida is never a slur I’ve had to personally experience, but the way it is delivered and the way it lands makes it feel like I share its burden too. It’s a slap in the face and I wish I could reach through the computer screen and return it, with interest.

Marta’s relationship with her dad, ugh. She talks to him about being happy with being more involved in the company, getting a shot at running the business alongside her brothers. And what does Damian do? He turns the table on her and brings the conversation back to her marriage, talking about how it isn’t what he wanted for her. Granted it’s nice of him to want more than the isolation her current marriage gives her, but it’s also another dagger in Marta’s side, isn’t it? Whatever she does, or achieves, with her dad it always boils back down into her marriage, her role as a wife and the failure of it all. That shit really has to feel like someone ripping out the feathers of her wings every time she tries to take flight. It’s a nice parallel though of both Isidro and Damian wishing happiness and partnership for their daughters. I’m looking forward to when this will come full circle in 170 episodes and they discuss how their daughters have found just that, in each other.

#mafin rewatch #sueños de libertad #mafin

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syndrossi · 2 days ago

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resonant ch31 cutting room floor

As promised earlier, the outtakes of ch31, which numbered around 1500 words total (not all of them included here).

None of these are proper scenes, most of them just a few paragraphs, or the start of a scene, or the extension of a scene. Presented in their entirely raw form, with mild commentary.

Jon wants blood

Aka me letting Jon get a little angry. I didn't love either of the variants, so I just scrapped it.

Variant A: Jon allowed himself the bloody fantasy of finding the warlock in control of the candle and burying his bronze knife in him until he screamed.

Variant B: When he found the warlock in control of the candle, he would take great satisfaction sinking his bronze knife into his chest—or stomach. Whatever he could reach.

Rhaegar's lullaby

Cut from the first scene, didn't love it and the scene was already long.

“I had trouble reaching him last night with my song,” Rhaegar said, looking troubled. “I nearly had to shout.” Jon was not quite sure what he meant. The lullaby had been as quiet and gentle as any he had heard his brother sing before. “It did work.” “Eventually.”

Telling Sers Arryk and Erryk?

I opted to move all the "tell the Cargyll twins about the candle" out of the chapter to possibly use later.

Unlike Daemon, Jon reminded himself, his brother would have a knight with him to protect him from anything physically dangerous. Especially if they were aware of dangers other than the mere physical. “Perhaps we should tell Arryk and Erryk about the candle.” Of all the Kingsguard, the brothers spent the most time guarding them, and Jon had come to trust them well enough in that time. “What do you propose we tell them?” Rhaegar asked, sounding more curious than skeptical. “That it was a tool of one of our kidnappers and has strange magic and that if we ever seem drawn to something, they should—” Come get Daemon, Jon had almost said, their father synonymous with protection in his mind. But that could put him at risk now. “Lead us away from it and send for the king.” Viserys would not be his first choice, but their uncle was the one other person who knew the full details of Jephyro, Volantis, and the dragonglass candle’s magic. “Shall we stick our hands in the fire again to convince them?” Rhaegar said with a hint of amusement. Jon’s lip twitched in response as he imagined their likely reaction. “If we must.”

Didn't quite fit, didn't love it. I was a little sad to lose the part about Daemon being synonymous with protection to Jon, though.

The twins debate the hatchlings' positive influence

Cut from the final scene. The hatchlings are not with Daemon currently. I decided it was a little too large a leap for them just yet, though Rhaegar has some thoughts noodling around in his head.

“And you say it was the dragons who stopped him?” Before, it had always been Jon to break Rhaegar free of the candle’s influence. “I think so. I tried to reach him before, but he did not seem to hear me until we were at the enclosure, and Caraxes and the hatchlings drew near.” Caraxes’s presence had settled Daemon yesterday as well, when they had stopped at the enclosure on their way to the barracks. And although Viserys’s admission that he had been unable to find their father yesterday sat uneasy with him, Daemon had seemed himself upon his return to the apartments, after having been with their hatchlings all afternoon. After some discussion, he and Rhaegar agreed that Daemon should keep his hatchling escort, though it did briefly become heated when deciding precisely which hatchlings, with Jon arguing that Rhaegar should keep Qelebrys with him. His brother pointed out, however, that with both hatchlings present, it was more likely that at least one of them would be able to sense if something was wrong.

What else can the candle do?

Cut from the first scene, more musings on the candle's power, hints that Jon is planning to ask Viserys for a sworn shield to watch Daemon. Originally this was the end of the first scene, in fact, before I reworked it.

Except they had no way of arranging that while they had lessons. Could Viserys be persuaded to set a guard on Daemon? It was the king who had lost the candle, after all. Sparing another knight was the least he could do, however much their father had seemed to loathe the notion when Jon had brought it up before. Not Ser Steffon, though. If the knight could not be bothered to look in on them once during their play, no matter what Aegon had ordered, then he was not suited to protect Daemon. “The candle made you hear voices,” Jon said. “Your mother calling for you.” “Yes,” Rhaegar said, his tone more questioning than distressed. “Was that all?” “I think so.” Rhaegar’s shoulders lifted in a shrug, his smile without humor. “But would I remember, if there was?” Jon turned his gaze to the distant wall, tension winding its way through every muscle. I brought that evil here. I will find it again.

Jon wonders if Daemon burns

Cut from either the first scene or the last, I don't recall anymore. Basically Jon trying to figure out what the warlocks want with Daemon. Aka is he a means for gaining access to them, an obstacle to be removed, or someone they also want?

Jon thought back to that nightmarish day outside the Saltpans, when Jephyro had given himself over to that being of flame. It is important that we cannot burn. Jephyro had tested them first, only then offering Crayne his payment. Daenerys had not known if it was a common trait within their family, since the only Targaryens she had known before Jon had been herself and her brother. But her brother had burned. Aerion Brightflame had famously burned, though Jon did not know if even he would survive drinking wildfire. Aegon, their cousin, had been disfigured by dragonflame during the Dance. And both the king and their father had reacted with horror when Jon had thrust their hands into the fire. Was it possible that Daemon did not burn either? His scars from battle had been left by arrow and blade; Jon had borne such scars himself, once. Rhaegar had not known at fourteen that he shared Jon’s resistance to flame. Daemon might not have reason to know either.

Continuation of Daemon POV

Originally, I played around with this scene covering Viserys actually informing Daemon about the sworn shield and his reaction, but it didn't feel like it added much so I stopped early on.

Two kingsguard with him, Jon in hand, and seeking privacy. It felt like a veiled threat, and he nodded, disquieted as he sought its source. Does he already know about Mysaria? He had hoped to delay that conversation until she had provided more substantial information, but if Viserys had learned of it, it might seem that Daemon was concealing his visit for another reason. Jon settled at his other side, grasping his free hand, and Daemon squeezed it gratefully, feeling a tension within him ease now that both were with him. The first half of their turn about the godswood was rife with aimless chatter about the beauty of the trees and the unusually long autumn, which only served to heighten the dread of whatever was coming. “I am assigning you a sworn shield,” his brother announced finally, halting by the towering heart tree. It was not an offer this time, as it had been in the past. “You do not trust me.” He had not meant to speak the words aloud. “I worry for your safety,” Viserys said, with an edge born of defensiveness. He nodded toward Jon. “As do your sons.”

Continuation of breakfast POV

I also tried out Jon's POV extending a little longer, to Viserys telling Daemon, but it felt like an awkward breaking point and I wanted the unnerving dragon enclosure scene, which this didn't work well with.

Jon convinced Viserys to wait another hour, lest they disrupt Daemon’s sleep, and in return he broke his fast with the king, nibbling at fruit while answering questions about their lessons with the royal tutors, and his progress with learning High Valyrian, and some less than subtle questions about Allard Royce and their time at the Gates of the Moon. The fact that Rhaegar’s hair had been dyed seemed to have raised the king’s ire at their cousin. Daemon met the news of his new protection with about as much grace as expected, bitterly protesting the decision and accusing the king of seeking to control his movements even after Jon had insisted that it was at his own request. Viserys kept to his word, however, informing Daemon that it was not a matter for debate.

#resonant cutting room floor

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sexy-monster-fucker · 2 days ago

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Unwinding

Dr. Lawrence Gordon x Apprentice!Reader NSFW

Prompt: Lawrence wants to keep reader safe after tagging along on one of their missions. Giving her a hotel card for them to meet up after everything is done.

CW: nipple play, p in v, creampie,

a/n: I CRAVE more Lawrence in the new Saw movie, I need him back. I need MORE apprentice Larry!!! PLEASE TWISTED PICTURES HEAR MY PLEES!!!!!!!!! anywho- I dont hype him up often on here, but when I originally watched the movies as a preteen I loved Larry so much he was one of my favorite characters but it made me mad he cheated on his wife. now I'm a chainshipper, weird how we change

~~~

Long day. What an understatement.

You had been instructed by John to scout out another victim he had hand picked. Tagging along with Amanda to discreetly kidnap them from their job. Lawrence had warned you about the security of the building. Offering to be the one driving the two of you to the site. Amanda wanted no part of Lawrence's involvement, but you did not mind it.

Lawrence had been a pivotal part of your adaptation and healing post game. Mending the injuries you had taken during your game. Calming you down from the persistent panic attack over taking your nerves as your hands were covered in blood. Body having some deep gashes and hair stained dark with blood that you were not even sure was yours. Gloved hands flattening along your hair as he gently cleaned you up. Washing off your revealed body to make sure he could tend to all your wounds. Something rather intimate for someone you did not even know.

You had no idea surviving something so horrific would lead you into a new line of work. Being scouted in by the Jigsaw killer you heard about on the news. Finding some form of stability in your previously hectic life. Butting heads with some of your new colleagues, but never Lawrence. He had a soft spot for you. Taking care of you in anyway he could. Always agreeing with your ideas. Sending Mark and Amanda off to some of the more dangerous situations as to not put you in danger.

"I'm going with you, that's final," Lawrence put his foot down to Amanda. The three of you dressed in your black robes. Mark stood off in the distance tinkering with some gadget for a game that would occur later this week. Audibly rolling his eyes at the fight going on amongst you. John sat in the corner of the room taking in breath from his oxygen tank. Silently watching the two of them argue.

"What are you even going to be able to help with? Not like you can provide any muscle, cripple," Amanda hissed at him. Angry at him questioning her competence.

"Amanda, that'e enough," John finally intervened. His weak voice still powerful in pulling all your attention to him. Amanda's face contorted in confusion and frustration, "But-"

"I'm instructing the three of you to go together. You and Y/N can handle getting them, then Dr. Gordon can set the trap up," John coughed with his words. His statement being final say in what was going to happen. Lawrence had to fight the grin begging to creep upon his face. Amanda was speechless, storming off. Lawrence gave you a secret look with a smile. You blushed at his blue eyes.

You and Lawrence followed a distance behind Amanda towards the car. Silent in the long hallways other than the click of Dr. Gordon’s cane against the floor. You had a grueling night ahead of you. Amanda slammed the double doors open, Larry put his cane in front of you to stop you. Allowing the doors to shut before he spoke.

“I want you to be safe. You can handle getting them, I have no doubt about that. But I want you to go here while you wait for the trap to be set up,” he slipped you a room card for a nearby hotel, “You know just as well as I do, Amanda won’t let me do this alone. It’s dangerous for three of us to try and leave the location. I’ll meet you there when everything is done so we can get you out of there.”

You shyly nodded, stowing the card away in your tight back pocket. Blushing at the thought of sharing a hotel room with the doctor. Knowing you would not be staying there long. Fantasizes filled your mind.

…

The night has went accordingly. Capturing the person you were sent for, making sure to fill them with enough narcotic that they would not fight back. Departing from Amanda and Lawrence hesitantly after you got them shoved in the trunk.

You paced around the room of the dingy hotel. Somewhere you could stay without a trace. Leaving your robes and mask behind in the car. You worried for the two of them. They were not exactly the best team together. No where near as bad as Amanda and Mark, but still a lack of respect between them.

The knock he had told you would signal it was him made you jump out of your skin. Walking over and looking through the peephole, seeing Lawrence with disheveled hair from the mask he wore behind removed.

You unlocked the deadbolt. Allowing him to open the door on his own. His defeated figure painted the doorway. Limping inside the room. No words being spoken between you. He was clearly distressed. His cane clanked louder than before.

Larry sighed harshly as he sat on the edge of the bed. Laying back onto the old mattress. Cane propped against the edge of the mattress. Black cloak draping off his sides revealing his shirt underneath. Noticing how it was ever so slightly untucked. Your eyes fixated on the bit of bare tummy showing. Swirling around in your stomach with your infatuation for him.

"Did you get it all set up?" You broke the stiff silence in the room.

The doctor sighed again. Head tilting to look at you, "Not without Amanda telling me a million different ways to do it."

You smiled softly at him. Amanda believed she was John's favorite, often making her cocky. You knew better than anyone that Lawrence was John's true favorite. He was the one who made most of the traps and games possible. Having connections and abilities that far surpassed all of yours. You admired how he overcame so much.

"This was one of the most stressful weeks I've had since... well, you know," he gestured towards his amputated leg. A defeated chuckled escaped his lungs. Body sore and tired. Amanda forcing him to do most of the heavy lifting out of spite for him taking over the mission.

Your mind wandered. Eyes dancing down from his exposed skin to his groin. Imaging what he was hiding under his slacks. Thinking of taking a chance with him.

You walked over, standing directly in front of his flattened body. Watching his chest rise and fall with the breaths filling his lungs. Crawling onto his lap and straddling his hips. Lawrence's hands instinctively ran up your thighs, resting on your hips. Deep blue eyes meeting your lust blown ones.

"What is it, Y/N?"

Your hands ghosted up his body, resting against his shoulders. "I can help you relieve some stress, Doctor," you batted your lashes at him.

Lawrence's jaw tensed as he chuckled softly to himself. "And how exactly are you gonna do that, darling?"

He was agging you on. Clearly enjoying the closeness of your bodies. Your fingers traveled to his buttons, undoing them slowly down his chest. Once complete, your hands grazed up his torso kneading his soft flesh. Lips falling against his clavicle, kissing along his neck. Deep moans formed inside him. One of his hands tangled in your hair, forcing you to look up at him. Forcing your lips against his. Feverish kisses were exchanged between you. Lawrence’s tongue darting between your lips as he lapped into your mouth.

You began grinding your hips down on his groin. Feeling his semi-hard cock against your core. His sounds of enjoyment vibrated your lips. You ran your nails down his exposed torso. His hands tugged at your shirt, urging you to pull it over your head. You undressed your upper half for him. Throwing your shirt somewhere in the floor behind you. Hands reaching around to awkwardly undo the clasp of your bra. Exposing your bare breasts to him. His eyes fixated on your chest. Leaning forward and taking one of your nipples between his lips. Tongue flicking and sucking at the tender bulb. Pulling quick and squeaky moans from you. Jaw hanging open as you locked eyes with him. His mouth shifting over to the other to give them the same attention.

You sat straight up, scooting so that you could reach his belt and zipper. Staring at how his erection pressed firmly against the seem. Begging to be freed from its confides. Your nails clanged against the metal belt buckle. Slowly and sensually pulling down his zipper. Lawrence had himself propped up on his elbows making sure he could watch as you crawled back down into the floor, pulling his trousers down his legs with you. Tent pitched up in his boxer-briefs. The tip of his cock leaking precum darkening the soft fabric.

You removed your own bottoms, fully taking off your pants and underwear. Soaked core tingling against the cold air of the room. You rested your hands on his thighs, towering over him on the bed. Hand wrapping around his member through his underwear. Lawrence’s face contorted in pleasure as your hand wrapped and twisted around his shaft. “Yes— God— yes,” he chanted to you. You took your lip between your teeth, adoring all the grunts and moans coming from the man below you.

Deciding to mount him once more. Bare pussy resting against his thighs framing his cock. Deep blue eyes met yours as his jaw hung open.

“Can I fuck you, Doctor Gordon?”

“Fuck— please,” his soft eyes pleaded with you. Fingertips pulling the elastic down his legs, cock springing free. Bouncing slightly as is curved towards his stomach. Thick and swollen. Aching for some attention from you. You pumped it in your hand for a moment, thumb swirling around the leaking head. Moving to be grinding him between your slick folds. Moaning each time the head rubbed against your clit. Thick fingers dug into your hips as he moved along with your body. Chest harshly rising and falling with each hard breath he took in.

Your fingers wrapped around his base, lining him up with your entrance. Sinking down onto his girth. Stretching your walls and needing to adjust to his size. You squinted your eyes shut at the feeling of him, silently morphing your mouth into an O. Slowly hopping up and down to get yourself adjusted, finally feeling him slide all the way inside. Your hands gripped at his chest to balance.

“You’re so tight, dear,” Lawrence praised as his head fell back onto the mattress. Finding a rhythm that fit you. Lewd and sloppy sounds filled the room. Lost in the feeling of his thick cock filling you to the hilt. Tits bouncing around your chest as your smacked together.

Lawrence’s finger outlined your hips, sliding down to your sensitive nub. Circling it gentle but firm. Causing you to arch your back and call out to him. Panting his name as you grinded down quicker against him. “‘M gonna make you cum around my cock,” he panted. Your nails dug into the soft flesh of his torso, grazing down to his plush stomach. Soft hair dancing along the pads of your fingers.

One of his hands curved under your thigh, urging you to go higher. Lawrence’s eyes fixated on where the two of you met. How his cock was covered in your juices and how you looked taking him inside you. Helping you bounce up and down on him, fingers never ceasing their pace on your clit. A sexual coil wound up. Feeling your legs begin shaking when he would hit that perfect spot. The head of his cock pressing against that spongy place that had you seeing stars.

“You have the perfect cock, Doctor,” you whined. Throat tightening as you continued closer to your finish line. Lawrence smiled below you, tongue coming out to glaze his teeth.

“I could fuck you forever. Keep you all to myself. Make sure no one ever hurts you again,” Lawrence’s fingers danced along the scars on your stomach from your trap. Swearing with gritted teeth at the memory. Hands praised your figure. Promising to keep you close to him.

“I’m so close,” you huffed.

“I know, dear. I can feel you,” Lawrence smiled up at you. Eyes immediately falling back down to where he penetrated you. You were a few more swirls of fingers away from your end. Chest tingling with arousal.

“Can I cum inside you?” Lawrence asked, locking sincere blue eyes with yours. You nodded silently unable to form words. Lawrence began snapping his hips up into yours. Ruthlessly fucking you to your orgasm. Heat washed down your skin as you screamed a moan. Rutting your hips forward against his ever moving fingers. Cock nestled as deeply as possible, feeling your walls constrict around him. Loving the warmth of your climax coating his cock. Shortly starting fucking up into you again.

Your body spasmed as he thrusted into your sensitive core. Lawrence sputtered as he held you flush against his groin. Cock twitching and shooting sticky hot white all over your insides. Your pussy still in aftershock, practically milking every drop out of him. “You take it so well,” Lawrence mewled. Stretching his neck back as his fingers dug into your skin, begging to break it.

Both of you panting heavily. Savoring the afterglow. Large hands petted your skin. You rest forward keeping his softening length inside you. Your fronts completely pressed together. Lawrence kissed your head tenderly. Adoring the way you perfectly melted to his fronts. Both your bodies covered in sweat.

“You’ve definitely relieved some stress for me, love,” Lawrence joked. You smiled leaning up to kiss his lips.

“I owe you my life, Lawrence. I’d do anything to make you happy,” you softly spoke against his body.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading!! I love Larry and look forward to writing more for him. If you have any requests, please shoot them my way! //

{tags}

@iwmflbb ~ @toastnpretzels ~

#lawrence gordon x reader #lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon saw #cary elwes #saw 2004 #saw franchise #saw movies #saw #sawposting #saw x reader #sexymonsterfics

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