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prodbyton · 4 months ago

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જ⁀➴ dirty little secret chapter 5: i don’t bite

half smau, half written wc. idk sorry😭 warnings: smut!!! +18 mdni!! smut can be read on its own but if you want to read the rest of the story here’s the mlist! id still recommend reading the whole story bc yes 🙂‍↕️

tomorrow comes around a lot faster than you expected. you dont know why, but you’re almost nervous.

you dont know what it is about anton, but he was different than other guys you pursued. you were never the type to chase, never the type to be so bold and be the one to call the shots. something about anton being so shy in your presence excited you, and you knew you could use that to your advantage since he was already wrapped around your finger after only talking to you once.

so you dont understand why you’re hesitant to knock on the door to his apartment.

you stare at the door, thinking of all the possible outcomes of what will happen once you step foot into his space.

you’re here to study, you tell yourself, but you know that you can’t focus on that when you’re too focused on your attraction to the boy. he obviously is into you, but you don’t know if he’s into you enough to do the things that you were thinking about. what if he does just want to study, and you make him uncomfortable by trying to make a move on him? what if giselle was right about him being a virgin, not that it would be an issue but you don’t want this to be his first time. or even worse, what if he’s not good in bed?

just worry about studying, thats the most important thing here. you continue to tell yourself, still staring at his door.

right as you lift your arm to finally knock, the door swings open and reveals the tall boy you were here to see. he looks at you and smiles softly, and you smile back before taking in his appearance. he looks good, and he seems a little less nervous than he seemed the day before.

you thank yourself for not dressing up too much for today, seeing that he was in a loose tshirt and some shorts. you wore something nice but casual, a low cut shirt and a pair of leggings. easy to take off, just in case. right when you were done looking anton up & down, his eyes quickly darted back up to your face and your smile grows wider when you realize he was probably looking down your shirt when you weren’t looking.

“sorry if i startled you,”

“its okay, i was just about to knock”

anton moves to the side so you can come in, and your eyes scan the room as you take off your shoes. it was pretty clean for an apartment with college student boys, and you wonder if it always looks this clean or if anton cleaned up for you. and you smile trying to imagine anton frantically cleaning around the house knowing that you could be over any minute.

you let anton lead the way to his living room, where he already has some papers spread across the coffee table along with his laptop. you admire his efforts into making sure that you were comfortable in his space, since he also had various snacks and drinks on the table along with a few blankets and pillows on the floor.

“i don’t know what kind of snacks or drinks you like, so i just bought a bunch of stuff” he lied, he asked seunghan this morning what stuff you like. you stare at the various snacks, smiling when you realize it was filled with snacks you actually like. not like you would’ve declined anything he offered, you’re sure he had good taste. maybe you both just have the same favorites.

“did you wanna study physics again or another subject?” you set your bag on the couch, sitting down on the floor on top of the blankets anton had laid out, and pulling out your laptop once anton sat on the ground next to you.

“you’re really smart, anton” you nudge his arm, and he shyly looks away from you at your praise.

“thanks,” antons voice was so soft, and you hoped that you could break that nervous shell off of him soon. you could tell he wanted to talk more, but it was like he was holding himself back.

“im kinda bored of studying now, can we take a break?”

“yeah, of course"

anton is surprisingly easy to talk to, and you wish that he wasn't so shy because you could have realized how much you two had in common. you stare at his face while he talks, going back to make eye contact with him every few words so he knew you were still listening. you look at his lips, liking the way they curve into a smile while he speaks and the way his lips purse out when he says certain words. you stare a little harder at his lips, and anton notices, and he tries to ignore it but he's starting to forget what he was talking about. you only look back at his face when you hear him stumbling over his words and stops talking.

"why'd you stop talking?"

"sorry," anton gulps, his ears turning red as he tries to come up with a reason, but he couldn't lie to you when you were still staring at him like that. "you were staring"

"you're so cute. do i really make you that nervous?"

"y-yeah"

"can i tell you something?" your words were just above a whisper, and anton nods nervously when he sees you looking at his lips again. "i really want to kiss you right now"

and with that anton was leaning in, pressing his lips onto yours without any further question. you were taken aback by his sudden action, not expecting him to be so bold all of a sudden with you. you couldn't complain though, his lips felt so soft and perfect against yours. you kiss him back faster than you could process the situation, holding on to the back of his neck to kiss him harder. his hands that were nervously playing in his lap move so he could grab your waist, pulling your body closer to his.

anton shifts his body so he could face you better, his other hand that wasn't on your waist rests on the ground to stabilize himself as he kisses you. you pull away for a brief second to take a breath, quickly going back to kissing anton and sliding your tongue against his bottom lip.

it takes a moment for him to get the hint, and you have to bite his lip softly in order for him to open his mouth so you could slide your tongue inside.

anton feels like fireworks are going off in his mind. you were kissing him right now. he couldn't believe it. and you're the one who wanted to kiss him, whatever anton did in his past life he thanks himself internally, because he would never believe that he could ever be in this situation.

you two groan into each others mouths, tongues clashing against each others and spit is dribbling down both of your chins. when you two finally pull away, anton is almost as red as a tomato. you were breathing hard, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you took in antons appearance. he looked so attractive like this, lips swollen and parted, a little shiny from a mix of spit and your lip gloss. he was so kissable. you wanted to kiss him again, and again, and again.

so you do. you kiss the breath out of him over and over, you somehow end up in his lap, kissing him even more. you kiss down his face, down his neck, you even bite him a little bit just to hear his breath hitch. antons hands still lay on your waist, gripping onto the skin a little harder whenever you lick or bite a sensitive part of his neck. you were in your own world, and you only realize how much this is effecting anton when he tries (and fails) at subtly pushing you down onto his clothed crotch and you can feel his boner pressing against your core. you remove your lips from him and sit up, staring at his flushed face then down to where your bodies met.

"you're hard" you say it bluntly, still staring at the bulge in his pants from what you can see from the angle you were sitting in.

"you're really pretty" anton talks in the same tone you spoke in, no point in being shameful when you both clearly wanted each other. it was your time to be shy, you knew anton liked you to some degree, but hearing him compliment you as well as getting this hard from just kissing you has you flustered. you feel your core throb the longer you stare, and your mouth feels empty without antons lips on yours.

you run your fingers through antons hair, smiling at the sight of his eyes shutting at the feeling of your nails slightly scratching his scalp. you give his hair a small tug, and before anton can even react your tugging him again so your lips could connect again.

this kiss was somehow even more desperate, teeth clashing and tongues colling more than lips locking. it was messy, but it only made you feel hotter. you experimentally grind your hips down on anton and he groans, holding your hips harder as you make the same movement again. you let out a small whimper when you move just right enough to feel the pressure on your clit, repeating the same movement until you find a steady rhythm.

anton looked an absolute wreck when you pulled your lips off of him. he threw his head back against the couch, eyes barely open as he watched you grind against him. he looked like he was 3 seconds away from cumming in his pants, and you honestly wanted him to. so you move a bit faster, and you lean down to re attach your lips to his neck.

the moans that leave the both of you fill up the living room, and you forget that anton has roomates that could possibly walk in at any given moment. anton seems to forget too, because he's slipping his hands under your shirt and trailing them up to cup your breasts over your bra. antons boldness has you pressing harder against him, moaning against the skin of his neck which makes him shudder.

"wait- im gonna cum-" anton warns, hands that fondle your boobs under your shirt grabbing onto you tighter as he feels his orgasm build up embarrassingly fast. he hopes that you stop moving, but you keep going, and when he feels you smirk against his skin he knows that it was fine.

without any warning anton was moving his hands back to your waist, holding you down as he thrusted against you while his orgasm hit. he was silent, only a string of small whimpers leaving his mouth as he kept you moving while he rode out his high.

watching him cum in his pants was truly a sight, and you felt yourself growing wetter as you watched. he was almost trembling, and it made you clench around nothing before you started to move your hips again. anton was still sensitive and he whine at the feeling of you still grinding down on him, weakly attempting to push your hips off of him.

you quickly move yourself so you were sitting on his thigh, desperately moving against the thick muscle while you chased your own orgasm

"are you close?" you can only nod your head as you move faster, your clit rubbing against antons thigh so deliciously you knew it wouldn't take much more for you to reach your peak.

"kiss me, please-" anton had his lips on you as fast as possible, kissing away the pout you had on your lips. you moan softly when you feel his tongue slip into your mouth, and you feel your orgasm hit you hard when he sucks on your tongue.

you shake on top of anton, body going limp as you feel the aftershocks of your orgasm. you both stay quiet for a moment while you try to get your breathing back to normal, and anton shifts slightly, the feeling of sitting in his cum stained underwear starting to set in and feel uncomfortable.

"im gonna change my pants- ill bring you a pair too" he was so considerate, feeling that you were probably just as uncomfortable in your soaked through underwear. anton helps you move off his thigh, and helps you stand up as well before he's telling you he'll be right back. you sit on the couch while you wait for him, checking your phone while you wait and seeing that your brother texted you a few minutes ago about your whereabouts. you roll your eyes, not wanting to leave antons right after you both just came in your pants, but not wanting to have to deal with your brother nagging you about how late its getting.

"here, you can change in my room" anton turns the corner and hands you a pair of his sweats, and you take them and follow him back down the hall to where his room was. he closes the door and waits outside for you, and you take your time taking off your leggings and your underwear that was uncomfortable and sticky, slipping his pants on and making tying the strings to make sure they don't fall down. you also take in antons bedroom as quick as possible so it doesn't seem like you were snooping.

the boy is smiling at you like a dork when you open the door, and you smile too before his smile drops at the words that leave your mouth.

"my brothers blowing up my phone, so i have to go, but um, today was nice" his heart thumps in his chest, and he swallows in hopes that the feeling subsides and he hopes that it was only loud in his head and that you couldn't hear his heartbeat from where you were standing.

"yeah, it was. i can walk you to your car, its getting kinda dark." anton helps you collect your things, and you two silently make your way down to where you parked.

the walk from antons apartment to your car was awkward, and you wish that it wasn't. you didn't really know what to say, or what to do in this situation. usually guys you hook up with don't go out of their way to give you some of their clothes, or walk you back to your car, or have good conversation with you. but anton was different, and you felt it the moment you decided to give him attention, because you really don't want to go home, and you really don't want this to be the last time you two fool around.

anton stays outside until your car pulls off and until he cant see you anymore before he starts his walk back to his apartment, and he can't stop the wave of thoughts that run through his mind now.

he's praying internally that you really do text him, and that you enjoyed today as much as he did, and that him cumming in his pants didn't throw you off and that you'd never want to speak to him again. he hopes you text him and that you want to see him again.

all of his internal prayers seem to come true faster than he thought when he enters his room and sees your soaked through panties on his bed.

m.list | prev | next

a/n: sorry for posting this so late !! anyways hope you guys like it hehe haha

synopsis: living with your older brother had its perks, including easy access to his hot best friend

taglist is closed !!

🏷️- @selleprotection @gacktsa @cylovesmg @cherrytaesan @f4irynono @mokkaamo @givemeakith @taroddori @leebitofficial @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @g0niki @wonpoem @ningning1527 @streamluckybyriize @ant-onie @sunooslover @saranghoeforanton @serinebsblog @winuvs @onlyhyunjin @lynnimini @dearestjake @sasfransisco @nctjunie @angelpiixie @https-yeonjun @i03jae @nujeskz @astro-doll-the-star @lcvehee @ss1ren @imuziawi @snoopydooby @dutifullyannoyingfox @pink-lemonadefairy @yyangj3lly @urstrulynini @s9nwoo @bearbeom @totheseok

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velarisdusk · 19 days ago

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and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me

word count: 1.7k author's note: listen.. i may write but i am no songwriter. i dont wanna hear shit abt these lyrics, i drove myself to madness for HOURS trying to come up with them ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The studio smelled faintly of old coffee and cedar, the latter courtesy of Cassian’s obsession with “ambience candles.” Their flickering glow did little to cut through the dim light of the room, but that was how they worked best—shadows stretching long across the walls, a backdrop of soft atmospheric music mingling with the faint hum of amplifiers.

Cassian was seated cross-legged on the worn couch, his drum pad balanced precariously on one knee. Rhys sat opposite, his guitar cradled loosely in his lap as his fingers absentmindedly picked out a melody that might, one day, become something.

Azriel lounged across the arm of a chair, his legs draped over one side, notebook in hand. He’d been silent most of the night, pretending to be engrossed in writing, but he hadn’t added a word in over an hour. His pulse thrummed low and steady, though it felt like it was trying to climb into his throat.

He cleared it instead. “I, uh…” His voice broke the lull, and both heads turned to him, expectant. “I’ve been working on something,” he added, tone clipped, casual—too casual. “Thought I’d see what you think.”

Rhys’s guitar fell silent, and Cassian stilled his restless tapping. “Let’s hear it,” Rhys said.

Az’s fingers curled around the edge of his sacred notebook, the slight crinkle of paper betraying his tension. Still, he began to read.

“Got a taste of sin, it’s dripping off your skin, Lost in your fire, pull me in, Your body’s a drug, and I’m high on the feel, Push me to the edge, make me kneel”

Cassian’s mouth fell open, and Rhys slowly set his guitar down, leaning forward as Az kept going:

“Whisper my name, and I’m already there, Fingers gripping tight, pulling through your hair. Take me in deep, make me lose control, I’m yours to break, body and soul.”

When he finished, the studio was dead silent, save for the faint buzz of the amp. Cassian stared at him like he’d just confessed to a crime.

“Holy shit.” Cassian let out a low whistle, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Az, I don’t know who did this to you, but she must’ve been a damn good lay.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but he schooled his features into a mask of indifference. “It’s just a concept.”

Rhys arched a brow, his lips twitching in amusement. “Sure it is.” He didn’t press, though, only added, “It’s good. Uncomfortably horny, but good. Way different from our usual stuff.”

Cassian grabbed his sticks, tapping out a beat on the drum pad with a lecherous grin. “Let’s lean in, boys. This is the kind of trashy filth that gets crowds throwing bras at us.”

Rhys’s lips twitched into a smirk, and he picked up his guitar again, plucking out something slinky, the kind of riff that felt like it belonged in a smoky, neon-lit club. “It’s dark,” he said, nodding to himself. “Sultry. Needs that dirty edge, though. Cass?”

Cassian’s grin widened as he began hammering out a beat—deliberate, aggressive, a rhythm that hit like a pounding pulse. “You’re singing this, Az.”

Azriel froze, shooting him a glare. “Absolutely not.”

Rhysand chuckled, pointing at him with his pick between two fingers. “You’re the one who wrote this filth, so you’re singing it, lover boy.”

“It’s just a concept,” Az repeated, gritting his teeth.

“Oh yeah?” Cassian retorted, his grin feral. “Then why does it sound like you’re confessing to something you did last night?”

Az opened his mouth to respond, but Rhys interrupted, strumming a riff so suggestive it could’ve been banned on public radio. “Alright, focus, idiots. Let’s make this worth the headache.”

For the next hour, the song began to take shape. Rhys layered intricate licks over Cassian’s primal rhythm, the combination dripping with heat and tension. Azriel’s lyrics were sharpened, punctuated with pauses that hit like clenched fists, every word landing like a whisper pressed against the shell of your ear.

Cassian couldn’t help himself. “‘Tie me down, tear me apart,’” he sang mockingly into the mic, voice exaggeratedly gravelly. “Az, I’m learning so much about you tonight.”

Az snatched the mic out of his hand, deadpan. “Learn to shut the hell up.”

Cassian laughed so hard he almost fell off his stool. “This one’ll wreck them. Absolute filth.”

Rhys leaned back, smiling lazily. “Filthy sells. And Az?” He tilted his head, studying his brother like a puzzle. “Next time you’re uh, inspired, maybe don’t hold back. This is… enlightening.”

Azriel only shook his head, flipping his notebook closed as Cassian howled with laughter, already promising to slap the song on the album.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Midnight wrapped around you like a blanket, the world outside still and quiet. The soft glow of your laptop lit your room as you settled further into bed, earbuds in place, ready for this moment. You’d been counting down for weeks, your excitement bubbling just beneath your skin. Finally, their newest album was here.

It’d been months since the concert—months since you’d stood in that dark, electric space, his voice carving through the air like a blade. You could still feel the vibrations of the bass in your chest, the heat of the crowd, the way his eyes had found yours for just a second too long.

You hit play, and let the first track wash over you, a rush of gritty guitars and smooth vocals pulling you in instantly. The familiar sound of Rhysand’s honeyed voice wrapped around you, rich and magnetic, while Cassian’s drums hit like a thunderstorm. But it was the deeper, shadowed harmony threading through the background that made your breath catch.

Azriel.

Hearing him again sent a shiver through you, unbidden memories tugging at the edges of your mind. You’d spent one unforgettable night with him, his low, dark voice murmuring filthy things in your ear—words that had set your skin on fire and lingered long after the moment ended. His presence had been like gravity, drawing you closer, holding you there, even when you weren’t sure you could take it.

And now, hearing that same voice woven through the music, backing Rhysand’s lead, was enough to make your pulse race. You didn’t know if you wanted to rewind the track or keep going, chasing that sound, that pull.

You let it play. Each song unfolded like a gift—raw emotion, sharp edges. You found yourself nodding along, your fingers drumming softly against the blanket as you let the music consume you. But you couldn’t ignore the way Azriel’s harmonies caught your ear, his voice dipping into the pockets of the melody, haunting and magnetic.

The opening notes slinked through your ears, unhurried but charged, the tempo slow enough to make your breath hitch. This was different. Azriel’s voice took the lead, a rare spotlight for him on a track, with Rhysand providing backup vocals—a reversal of their usual dynamic. It was striking, intimate, and laced with something that felt far too personal.

“Past the greenroom, whispers low, ‘No one’ll see, now don’t let go.’ Your nails, your teeth, the sting, the scrape— Pull me under, I’ll beg, I’ll break.”

You froze.

The blanket bunched in your fists as your mind caught up to what you were hearing.

No.

Your thumb hovered over the pause button, but you couldn’t press it. The way Azriel sang it—low, raw, and dripping with heat—made it impossible to think straight. His voice wrapped around the lyrics like a confession he hadn’t meant to give, and Rhysand’s smoother backing vocals added a dangerous edge, amplifying every word.

You yanked one earbud out, your pulse thundering in your ears. For a moment, you just stared at the ceiling, the words looping in your mind like a broken record. But the harder you tried to dismiss it the more the connections gnawed at you. His mouth at your ear, his breath hot against your skin, murmuring reassurance as his hands slid under your shirt. You’d laughed, breathless, trying to quiet yourself as his lips pressed to your neck, but he’d just chuckled, low and dark, “No one’ll see. Just let me feel you.”

And “now don’t let go”—your stomach flipped at the memory. His voice, husky and commanding, echoing through his dressing room as he hauled you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. His teeth grazing your jaw, his hand gripping your thigh. “Now don’t let go, sweetheart,” he’d rasped, right before pressing you into the wall and wrecking you.

Your breath came shallow, heart racing as the memories sharpened, aligning too perfectly with every word. The song ended, and silence pressed heavy against your ears. Before you could think, your thumb hit replay.

Your knees tucked up against your chest as the opening notes filled the air again. You closed your eyes, the melody threading through you, every word lodging itself deeper. Was it just your imagination? Or was there something unmistakable in his voice—a heat, a pull, that felt like it was meant for you?

Your chest tightened as the song finished, leaving you breathless and stunned. “No way. No way,” you muttered, shaking your head, but your hands were trembling as you pressed play again.

You got up, pacing your room with restless energy, the song still blasting through one earbud. Each time you heard it, new details jumped out at you—an inflection here, an ad-lib there. It wasn’t coincidence. It couldn’t be.

The realization hit you all at once, like a weight in your chest. The lyrics weren’t just abstract poetry. They were something real. They were yours.

You needed to see them perform this live. You needed to hear Azriel sing those words like looking out at a crowd, to watch the way he carried himself under the stage lights. Would he meet your gaze if you were there? Would he falter, even for a second, knowing you’d heard every word and recognized yourself in them?

And more than anything, you needed to talk to him. To get his attention again, to hear the truth from his lips.

#wings of illyria #acotar #acotar au #rhysand #rhysand acotar #cassian #cassian acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #(<- still only insinuated ig lol)#bat boys #bat boys acotar #bat boys band au #acotar band au

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frozenhi-chews · 4 months ago

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holds him gently

Starlo i love you Starlo. I wanna hold him please

#sometimes i feel i dont deserve him #theres other self shippers with him and they're all chill and here i am so viscerally uncomfortable sharing him that it makes me feel that #he doesnt love ME or i should pick up another f/o and whatnot #like it sucks. i feel like im cornering and isolating myself and its. its not fun #sometimes i DO wanna share him but my brain is mean #so like. being this possessive? do i really deserve him?#i hope i do #the cake doth speak #self ship stuff #🌵💫#sometimes i feel i should back off and not focus on him cuz i sometiems feel im too attached #please i want this to be for fun again-#miss you misty

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itsmarsss · 3 months ago

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Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] Bonus - Trippin' Balls

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn’t exactly considered classy, Stolas.)

A truth serum and emotionally repressed demons. What could go wrong with that?

pt 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word Count: 7,045

Warnings: truth seekers episode. hallucination, depictions of various types of trauma, uncomfortable hallucination scene involving boundaries being pushed, don't hate me for reader's hallucination, sexual remarks, jokes and innuendos as always, dhorks are their own warning i dont like the mfers lmao

Look who's back!

You sigh as you watch Blitzø hang from a window frame, trying to climb it. “‘Kay, Blitz, I get it, can we please just go now?” It’s been a long day and, as endearing as his shenanigans can sometimes be, you’re all way too tired for him to be doing all this.

“Shhh, remember- we can’t be seen!” He whispers in reply, right before his hands slip, causing him to promptly fall off his ass from the dumpster he’d been hovering over, landing on the pavement.

“Pardon my words, sir, but you’re currently being the loudest,” Moxxie points out, and it’s objectively true. All his unnecessary tumbling out of stuff and rolling on the ground has been making much more noise than the rest of you combined.

Millie walks off into the portal, Loona already waiting on the other side of it, laughing at the way Blitzø stands back up at lightspeed just to shove his finger on Moxxie’s face. “You shush your dick-sucking lips, Moxxie.”

“Dude,” you call him out, “he’s right. Stop tumbling out of stuff like you’re some secret agent or something.”

“Well fuck you too, bitch! I’ll have you know I stuck a perfect landing.”

Finally changing out of your human form, you decide it’s best not to argue with him if you want to get home any time soon, settling on rolling your eyes and just agreeing with him instead. “Yeah, sure. Very cool. Can we please go now?”

You can just feel he’s right about to insult you in some way when his expression shifts: his eyes widen at the sight of something behind you. “Fuck, shit, Mox, get down!” He yells out, and you don’t even get any time to look back and see what it is that he saw before he tackles both you and Moxxie to the ground and, out of the corner of your eye, you can clearly see what you assume are two tranquilizers land exactly where the two of you just stood. And then you see them.

“Loona! Close it!” Blitzø yells, and you watch as Loona complies, hurriedly closing the portal that led directly to the meeting room in the I.M.P. office, leaving the three of you stuck on Earth.

And, in the middle of all the chaos, that’s when they get you.

All you can register before blacking out is Blitzø screaming in pain at being covered by something, some sort of glowing net. And then everything goes dark.

Shit.

[. . .]

You start panicking the very moment your eyes begin to flutter open, your sight begins to focus and you begin to gain your bearings after being out for who-knows-how-long, assuredly from the damn tranquilizers. Looking around, you gather that you, Blitzø and Moxxie have been tied up to chairs with your backs turned to each other. You pull on the ropes that tie your hands together on the back of your chair, but to no avail, and you hear Blitzø scoff at your attempt.

“Blitz! You’re awake?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t work. I tried. Maybe I should’ve bought that online course on untying army-grade knots.” He shrugs.

“Fuck. Where even are we?”

“Some government facility, I think.”

“You think?”

“Well, take a better fucking guess!”

“Hello?” Moxxie mumbles, beginning to wake up as well.

“Mox?” You call.

“What’s going on?” He asks, groggy from the tranquilizer still.

The agents show up out of, seemingly, nowhere. It would be creepy if they didn’t look (and sound) so utterly unqualified and absurdly pathetic. “Y’all finally awake, huh? Your partner there’s been awake for a while.” The blonde woman tells you and Moxxie.

Blitzø immediately starts talking. “Look, shitbag, it takes a lot to keep me down, alright? I took a fuckton of tranquilizers in the college I dropped out of.”

Now that’s new. “You went to college?”

He arches an eyebrow at you. “Why you so surprised?”

“You never told me about that.”

He shrugs. “Eh. Never told you ‘bout the time I was strapped nipple-first to a car battery either, so-” The other agent points a light directly to his eyes, making him squint. “Oh, okay-”

“Tell us, demon scum, who do you work for? Satan?” The guy asks.

“Heh, I wish. The guy’s hot as fuck,” you remark, and Moxxie laughs. By now, you know you’ve all silently agreed to pull the annoying card on them.

They pass the light between each other, the woman now holding it to your face. “How did you get to our world from the afterlife?” She asks, but gives you no time to reply, as the light is passed to the guy again.

“Why are yous killing humans?”

And back to her. “When did you show up here?”

“Damn, that’s a lot of questions,” you point out.

It seems annoying enough, as the man lets out a frustrated growl. “You-”

Blitzø cuts him off. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna stop you right there, bitch. First of all, we just woke up from a veeery nasty shock and I’m still feeling fucking woozy, so I’m gonna request you fetch us some coffee before we get into this. I mean, everyone gets coffee in shitty movies with scenes like this, am I right? I want something iced, bitch. Y/n?”

“Ooh I’d die for some hot chocolate right now! Mox?”

“I’ll have a neapolitan cappuccino, more ‘capu’ than ‘ccino’, make sure it’s got no more than four ounces of milk, the beans won't have the right texture otherwise. And make sure they spell my name correctly on the cup, they always put Foxy or Roxy, I hate that. If you can’t handle that I’ll have a venti traditional misto, please use soy milk, with two blonde shots, affogato and ristretto! I’d also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom and add the coffee after, and-”

You’re surprised they let him keep going for that long before the man interrupts him. “Enough! We aren’t getting yous coffee!”

“Wow, I was getting massive douche chills just there, Mox, congrats!” Blitzø comments, and he actually sounds proud.

“It was beautiful!” You exclaim.

The lady crouches down to be at eye level with Moxxie.

“If we have to, we are willing to resort to torture methods to get answers out of you nasty Hell beasts.”

“Ooh, you promise?” You ask her, turning up the fake-excitement in your voice, just to piss them off.

“When you say torture do you mean physical or psychological? Physical seems counterproductive. I mean, we’d likely tell you anything if it meant an end to the pain, and you would have no way of knowing what was true.” Moxxie tells her, matter-of-factly, and he’s not wrong.

“Or we might like it too much, and then you got a whole new thing to deal with,” Blitzø adds.

You nod. “We’ve done roleplay rougher than whatever this is.”

The man in front of you quirks an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean by that?” Now he’s just asking for this. Blitzø grins.

“Ah, you’re stupid, huh? I can work with stupid. Daddy likey dummy.”

Moxxie can’t contain his laugh at that one, stomping his feet on the ground at Blitzø’s words. “Good one, sir! Daddy likey-”

You can’t keep yourself from laughing, either, when the two agents all but jump back in disgust at what was said.

“You better stop laughing at us!”

“Yeah!”

“But you make it so hard!” Moxxie exclaims.

“You know what else is hard?” Blitzø goes, and it sends the three of you into a laughing fit again.

“Hey!” The man picks Blitzø up with some difficulty. “You are the ones at our mercy.”

Moxxie turns their attention back to himself. “It’s hard to resist, I’m really sorry. I mean, considering your approach thus far you’ve had us tied here for what? Hours? And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are.”

The two idiots share a look between themselves before the woman speaks up. “Well, what are you?”

“I’m a virgo!” He mocks.

“Ha!” Blitzø yells, proud of him, and the man actually looks done this time, letting Blitzø down.

“Ooh, a smart guy, huh?”

His partner looks increasingly annoyed too. “One more quip out of you and we’ll shut you up.”

“Ooh, keep talking dirty,” you purr, and Blitzø immediately matches the energy.

“Getting kinky!”

Both agents jolt backward in disgust, the guy even letting out a horrified screech which, frankly? A bit too much, isn’t it? “We aren’t playing any of your vile demon kinks!”

“I mean, that's what it sounded like back there, you sickos,” Blitzø continues taunting.

“What else do you wanna do to us?” You ask them, raising an eyebrow suggestively, in an over-the-top attempt at ‘flirting’ meant to disgust them even further.

Moxxie catches on. “Please don’t give them ideas!” He exclaims, sounding purposefully fake in the request, as if he wants them to get ideas. Honestly, you’re pretty impressed.

“Why not? I know the shit you’re into,” Blitzø states, and for a second Moxxie’s pleased expression falters.

“Ah!” The man yells. “We are not getting kinky with you!”

You fake-pout, making eye-contact with him. “Why not, big boy?”

“I- I-”

“Oh, you’re good.” Blitzø compliments.

“Thank you.”

The lady pats her partner’s shoulder. “Calm down, One.” That’s the alias? They’re ‘One’ and ‘Two’? Pathetic. “Don’t let these monsters get into your head.”

You can’t contain it. “Aw, but we’re all so good at head!”

‘Two’ growls and the three of you laugh.

“So, aren’t we gonna get our phone call, bitch?” Blitzø asks, annoyed.

‘One’ crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, that entirely depends. Who are you gonna call?”

“Your fat mom! Thanking her for a fat time!” Blitzø blurts out before the agent even finishes speaking entirely.

“Nice try, demon. His fat mom is dead!” ‘Two’ yells out, and the man promptly starts crying.

Okay, things are getting too weird now. And incredibly annoying. So much for getting home soon.

“Stop insulting my mother! She’s dead!”

Eh, you’ve got nothing to lose. “Okay. No more about your mom. Can’t you guys just let us go or something?”

“No?” Both agents reply, at the same time.

You shrug. “Tried.”

“You thought that was gonna work?” Moxxie asks.

“I’m all out on the inconvenient comments.”

“Hey, let’s just leave them here until they feel like talking,” The lady tells ‘One’ with a grin. You all try to tug on the ropes again as soon as they’re out of the door, but still to no avail.

“That online course really would’ve paid off right now,” you point out.

“Hey, don’t worry, we just keep being obnoxious and they'll eventually slip up and we’ll get a chance to get out. Let’s just keep fucking with them until they get so frustrated they stop thinking clearly, it usually works.”

“I guess.”

Moxxie tugs on the ropes again. “I’m just worried about Millie. She’ll be on her way by now, I'm sure.”

“Ugh, she'll be fine, Moxxie. It would take a fucking hippo to take down that woman when she’s upset.”

“He’s right, Mox. Millie can handle her shit.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never dealt with the human government before. She’s in danger!”

“Uh, are you guys seeing this too?” You ask, as you see a green fog slowly spread through the floor of the room.

“Do you ever honestly shut up about Millie? It’s always ‘oh, how's Millie?’, ‘I can't tonight, I’m hanging with Millie’, ‘I'm so worried about Millie’ and she’s always five fucking feet away from you, it’s pathetic.” Blitzø complains, and he actually sounds pissed.

“That was… oddly personal.” Is all Moxxie says in response.

“Yeah dude, you alright there?”

“No you’re right, I don't know why the fuck I just let my guts spill like that.”

That’s a little weird, alright, but are they not seeing the actual, much bigger issue going on right now? “Okay, look, do you guys not see this weird fucking green fog all around?”

Moxxie looks down and, sure enough, is startled when he finally notices it. “Fuck, they’re filling this room with something!”

“Yeah no shit, Moxxie, that’s what I just said!”

“Fuck, the hell is this?” Blitzø asks.

Moxxie squints, looking around a bit more before declaring “I think it’s some kind of airborne truth-telling serum.”

“Oh, you just guessed that’s what it is?”

“Well, uh, just ask me something specific I wouldn’t normally tell you.”

“Okay. Uh… does Millie ever peg you?” Of course that’s what he asks.

“Sometimes,” Moxxie replies instantly without a care before what he just admitted dawns on him. “Wait- ew! Fuck. Why that?”

“Heh. I knew it.”

“Hey why’s that so funny?” You’re speaking before you even process it. “You begged me to peg you for like wee-” Woah. So that was not supposed to come out.

Blitzø interrupts. Thankfully. “Heeyyy, hey, how ‘bout we all shut up?”

“Your suit is tacky!” Moxxie blurts out, as if he’d been holding that in. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“And you have shitty taste in music,” Blitzø blurts right back out. “Fuck I’m sorry.”

“You said you liked that musical I recommended to you!”

“I lied! I left halfway through. I lied to you guys so many times! I’ve lied to Looney before too! Oh my sweet, sweet, Looney, I hope she’s alright she must be so scared-”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah, like you don’t absolutely suffocate Loona. You talk about Moxxie and Millie but you’re so much worse with her. She's fine.”

“You take that back, she’s my daughter and it's different!”

“Is it really?”

“I don’t hear you saying shit about how Stolas treats his daughter.”

“Oh I didn’t know Stolas was in this room with us!”

“Oh I bet you wish he was.”

“Well you know who’s also not in this room with us? Your horse. You know why? Cause it’s not fucking real.” Only after all of that does it actually cross your mind that these aren’t things you should be saying. Curse Moxxie for being right about the truth serum. “Oh my- shit I’m sorry.”

“Oh you did not, you bitch! Lavender Magic Bubble Tea is real and she loves me!”

“As real as y/n’s shooting skills.” Moxxie laughs.

You turn your head to face him at lightspeed. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“I’m sorry, shit, I shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

“I’ll have you know I am improving!” You yell out before you promptly start crying.

“She's improving, Moxxie!” Blitzø defends.

It’s not long before the three of you become a big crying mess, apologizing to each other over and over again through your tears.

[ . . . ]

“Moxxie, this is all your fault!” Blitzø spits.

“How is this my fault?” Moxxie tugs on the ropes that bind his wrists together behind the wooden chair once again as he cries, but it’s not useless this time around.

The ropes fall graciously to the floor as he sets himself free, standing up to walk right into… what even is this? The empty dark room he’d just been in somehow morphs into an almost endless golden staircase, soft white clouds enveloping its surroundings. It makes him cough.

“Guys? I can’t see you. God, this smells awful.”

Moxxie doesn’t question it. He climbs the steps eagerly, wondering what it is he might find at the top.

“What’s that music?” He asks out loud as a melancholic melody takes over the atmosphere. He keeps climbing, and climbing, and climbing until he reaches steps high enough that he’s able to see the top, only to find…

“Blitz? Is that you? Is this a prank? Because I swear to Satan-”

“It is no prank, bitch!” Blitzø, who, for some reason, is dressed in something weirdly similar to the Phantom of The Opera, mask covering the burn marks on his face and all, interrupts.

“Hey! Why do you sound like that?” Moxxie questions, as his appearance doesn’t seem to be the only thing that’s different about his boss- his voice lower, more dramatic and… was that an accent he could hear?

“Because you, my precious little bitch boy, are trippin’ balls!” Blitzø declares, and, in this bizarre chain of events, it does seem like the best explanation as to why the imp sits by an organ at the top of a golden staircase in the sky, somehow playing a perfect melody that just compels Moxxie to sing his worries instead of talking about them. It still freaks him out.

No, what? How could this be? I’ve never tried acid, ‘shrooms or DMT It’s a bad trip, oy gevalt! Of course, Blitz, this would be your fault! My lungs are full of honesty Would you promise me that you won’t judge?

Yes, bitch

Not trying to divulge too much But I’m in too deep So, first of all, fuck you!

What?

This is just typical Well, two can play in this game of dismay ‘Cause, if you’re here causing frustration, I’m torturing you in your hallucination!

[. . .]

Blitzø doesn’t know what this place is or how he got there, but this definitely wasn’t the same dark room he was in just a couple seconds ago. In fact, this barely even looked like the same reality he was in just a couple seconds ago. It’s still empty in this new place, but everything around him looks warped, fake. He’s covered in some sort of red goo that he can’t help but try to smell, and, for some reason he can’t comprehend for the life of him, he’s dressed like a circus clown, because of course that couldn’t be left out from this bizarre nightmare sequence he was living though.

More red goo falls onto him, causing him to fall from his chair, to which he was somehow not bound anymore, and onto the muddy ground, but it’s not like that was the weirdest part of all of this. The goo morphs into some kind of cartoonish version of Moxxie, oddly similar to Blitzø’s own drawings of the imp, and this Moxxie-like creature speaks rapidly to him with words he can barely process, let alone comprehend.

“I simply follow your orders. It isn’t my fault your orders are as nonsensical as sun-tanning bed left out on the cold rainy porch of a fresh april shower-”

“Why are you talking like that? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I am simply speaking Satan’s plain English. Perhaps you should crack open a dictionary sometime. And then maybe you could understand half of the frivolous things I carry on and on about in my many rants about upbringings. It is my honor that you should-”

“Shut up!”

[ . . . ]

Fog.

All you can see all around you is fog. The same green fog that you’d warned your friends about now consumed everything.

You try to blink, to squint, to somehow see anything beyond it, but to no avail, as it was so thick you couldn’t even see your own hands as you tried to wave them around in front of your eyes.

But wait… you were waving your hands around. How?

Standing up, you realize that, just like your hands, your legs had somehow been untied from the wooden chair, leaving you free to take Moxxie and Blitzø and run out of-

Where were Blitzø and Moxxie, anyway?

For all the dead silence indicated, you seemed to be alone in the room, no sign of them anywhere near. You walk around, mind spiraling with all sorts of awful possibilities. Maybe they were still there and the fog had made them pass out. Shit, the more time passes, the more it takes over the space, and you conclude it’s sure to suffocate you soon enough.

Coughing as you feel the substance fill your lungs with each breath you take in, you call out their names, voice hoarse from the lack of air. You call them once, twice, three, four, ten times, until it dawns upon you that they are simply not there, and panic sets into you. If they're not here with you, where are they? What if they're hurt? What if they're-

No.

You let yourself fall to the floor, defeated, and the tears immediately start to come out. What were you supposed to do from here, trapped, alone, scared… dying? How were you supposed to help?

Is this how you die? You’re gonna-

“You’re gonna die like this? That’s pathetic.” A familiar voice makes its presence known from somewhere behind the fog. It takes a single blink for it all to fizzle out, leaving the room almost completely dark and empty, except for…

It can’t be. “Verosika?”

She paces back and forth in front of you. “What, embarrassed? I couldn’t miss this for shit. This might be the best day of my life, really.”

“Verosika, Blitz- he-”

She scoffs, flipping her hair with the back of her hand. “Ugh, enough about the pathetic little imp! This is about you. And about me, I’m enjoying this very, very much.”

“You have to call I.M.P, they-”

She leans closer, looking down at you, and it makes you feel smaller than you’ve ever felt before. Her tall figure looms over you, and it’s easy to imagine how pathetic you look in comparison to her right now. She lifts your chin with her pointer finger and then squeezes your cheeks together. The action alone calls you helpless in all languages you can think of. “Shhh, shhhh. Come on now, you can’t do anything to help them. You’re dying. Ha! Isn’t that hilarious? You’re dying! And so are they. And there’s nothing you can do to stop that.”

With your cheeks squeezed together with increasing strength, you struggle to talk back. “That’s not fucking true, you-”

“Hey, I’m not the one saying it.” She releases you, putting her hands up in surrender.

“What?”

All she does is laugh, and it does sound like her normal, full-of-disdain laugh at first, but an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach when it slowly turns into a sinister sound, a deep, slow, unnatural laugh that echoes all around the little dark room, giving you shivers. Her face contorts in an uncomfortable, bizarre way as the sound gets louder, like her face is made out of clay and being molded by some entity’s invisible hands into something else …

Someone else.

Your eyes widen. “Millie.”

“Y/n? What the- what’s goin’ on?” She asks you, frantically looking around the empty room.

“I’m- I- these guys, they-”

She interrupts, visibly growing increasingly nervous. “Where’s Mox?”

“I don’t know, Mills, I can't find him, I-”

Her focus returns to you, and her tone changes drastically as she repeats your own words. “You can’t find him?”

“No! I’ve been trying, but-”

“You been tryin’? You been tryin’? Last thing I checked you’ve been curled up in this corner talking to yourself.”

“What? No, I tried- Verosika-“

“He’s gone. Isn’t he?”

“What? No, he’s out there, I know it-”

“You ‘know it’? How could ya possibly ‘know it’ when you’ve been here feeling sorry f’yourself ‘stead of looking for him?” Tears threaten to fall from her eyes, and her voice trembles. You’ve never seen her more distressed, and it scares you. If Millie’s lost hope, if she believes Moxxie’s dead, then… “He’s gone, Y/N. My Moxxie’s gone and it’s all your fault!”

“You have to listen to me, I-”

“No,” she interrupts, and her knife is pressed to your throat before you can even see her take it out. She’s fully crying now, but sadness isn’t the only thing you see in the eyes that stare right into your soul.

Rage. You see rage in them.

“Millie, we can still go find them!”

“You won’t be here to find shit!” She lunges at you and you raise your arms over your face to protect yourself, but nothing comes. No knife pierces through your skin, no hands hit you, no teeth sink into you. You let your arms down, only to see remnants of green fog where she stood, as if she’d completely vanished.

“Millie?”

There is nothing but silence for a moment, and you’re sure you’re back to being completely alone in the dark when you hear the noise of steps coming from behind you.

“Millie?”

Whatever it was that made the noise leaves you no more time to wonder before you’re tackled to the floor, hard.

[ . . . ]

Why do you hurt me so?

I know, I push my friends away

(Why must you push your friends away?) Why does this seem like a reoccurring thing that you alienate with your toxic routine?

I don’t know, eventually everyone goes

‘Cause you’re thoughtless and cruel and you’ll end up alone!

[ . . . ]

“Admit it, my dear boss- you don’t know what you’re doing half the time! And you depend on me and the girls to manage your foolish flights of fancy.”

“I don’t need you. I could do this shit on my own so easy!”

Blitzø is thrown back onto the ground with so much strength he struggles to sit back up, and when he does he’s met with a terrifying sight. Before him now is no longer the version of Moxxie he’s used to scribbling on corners of papers when he’s bored. ‘Moxxie’ has transformed into something much worse:

Striker towers over him, and he borrows Blitzø’s own voice as he spits the truth Blitzø ignores like the plague while looking down at him. “But you don’t want to be alone, Blitzo!”

Blitzø has no time to react as he’s yanked into the air by muddy, bodiless hands- only, when his eyesight focuses, they’re not bodiless anymore. A warped, black-and-white version of Fizzarolli contorts and twists its body to spill Blitzø’s insecurities directly to his face: “You tried the solo act, it didn’t work out so well!”

‘Fizzarolli’, who also borrows Blitzø’s voice, untwists his body as he laughs a freaky, grotesque laugh, sending Blitzø flying back to the floor, from where a creature emerges from the mud in front of him, taking form of yet another demon Blitzø loved to pretend he didn’t haunt him.

Verosika crawls her way over to him, cornering him back into something he can’t see. She holds his face in her hands with such strength Blitzø fears his eyes might pop out of their sockets. Unsurprisingly, yet still horrifying, his own voice comes out of her mouth, too, when she speaks. “And you still shove away anyone who gets too close until they resent you for being a selfish shit-spittin’ snob!”

In a desperate attempt to flee from her, Blitzø blindly yanks himself away from her hold, standing up and turning around to face whatever it was that he’d been backed into- only to see it’s a big, fancy staircase. He tries to climb up its steps, only to be stopped by some sort of invisible force that prevents him from getting any closer.

The staircase that looked endless before unveils the sight of none other than Stolas, who sits, in all his royal glory, on a golden throne at the top, while clones of Blitzø himself and Y/N tend to him. Blitzø doesn’t spare a single thought into the matter before he tries to crawl up the steps once again, and realizes perhaps this is how he’s supposed to get there- by crawling his way up to him- seen as the force that once stopped him doesn’t bother him this time around.

As he crawls his way up, he notices his previous circus clown get-up morph into his usual work clothes, but that is long forgotten about when someone magically appears by his side.

Y/N crawls her way up to Stolas alongside him now, golden collars attached to matching golden chains materializing around their necks. Stolas pulls on said chains, forcing them both into kneeling at his feet right before his throne. Stolas leans down, and he gets at face-level with him, but his place is still clear: beneath him, less than.

Stolas tilts his head to the side and smiles.

“Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?” He coos, before releasing his hold on Blitzø’s face. With a flick to his forehead that is almost comical, Blitzø is sent rolling down the steps, landing back on the muddy ground. He holds himself up with difficulty, hands instinctively feeling his neck for the collar that was once there, only to find nothing. Looking back to the top of the stairs, he sees Y/N has been freed from the collar and chains as well, only she’s still there with him, still kneeling on the floor, still worshipping.

“Y/N, come on, you don’t have to-”

She turns back to face him, and her expression shows nothing but anger. “Can’t you let me have this one fucking thing, Blitz?”

“What are you-”

A white flash of light blinds him. He covers his eyes with his right arm, blinking rapidly to try to gain his sight back, only to see something that is somehow even worse- Y/N no longer kneels before Stolas’ throne, but sits right on his lap instead, wearing clothes Blitzø could swear looked identical to what he’d seen Stella in before. The clones of the two of them are now gone.

“What, did you think we needed you?” She laughs as if the mere idea were utterly stupid.

She leans further into Stolas and whispers something in his ear, to which he giggles.

“You’re right, darling, why would he think we would want him? Pathetic little imp.” Stolas speaks to her, but stares right into Blitzø’s eyes as he does so, and grins.

Moxxie, the real Moxxie, instead of some cartoonish version of him, appears in front of him once again, only this time he wears this weird princess-like dress. Blitzø doesn’t question it for even a single second.

“I believe your self-conscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but also crave it as well. And you fear your inability to show affection to those you care for will heed their need for you entirely. Is that not right, sir? It’s rather unfortunate, really, considering it’s often how you treat those who stand by you… such as myself. Are you worried I may have enough of it one day as well?

“Stop fucking talking, all of you!”

[ . . . ]

You bring your hand up to touch the back of your head, where you’d hit the ground, relieved when you see no blood, and you struggle to stand back up. “Fuck. Millie?”

“How could you let him die?”

Shit, that wasn't Millie.

“Loona?”

“You said you’d take care of him. You promised.”

“Loona, I-”

“He was the only thing I had left. He was the only one to actually see me as a fucking person and not some rabid guard dog.”

“Loona, we can go find him, I’m sure he’s-”

“He’s gone! Fucking gone! And who’s fucking fault is that, huh?”

“Loona, I swear, I don’t know what happened to him-“

“Stop lying! You don’t care. You never fucking cared. You don’t care about Moxxie and you don’t care about Millie and you don’t care about Blitz and you don’t care about me.”

“That’s not true, Loons, I love-”

“Shut up!” She yells. Angry tears roll down her face and fall to the ground, fizzling out as green fog into the air. “Shut up. Don’t fucking say it. We all know what it is that you care about.”

“What?

The green fog from her tears envelop her entire figure, leaving you with Stolas right where she just stood when it dissipates.

He holds your face in his hand, lovingly. “Are you alright, dear?”

“Stolas. Is this… is this really you?”

He laughs, tenderly. “Of course, darling. Who else would it be?”

“I… I don’t- I don’t know-”

“Here, you got struck pretty bad, didn’t you? Are you hurt?”

“No, I-”

He doesn’t listen, manhandling you into sitting back down so he can look at the bruises that now cover your face and body. “Don’t lie to me. We’ll take care of it. Alright?”

“Stolas?”

“Hm?” He pays half a mind to what you’re saying as he murmurs what you assume are healing spells as he runs his fingertips over your split bottom lip and the cut on your eyebrow.

“Where’s Blitz?”

He ignores you. “Did you get tackled, dearest? This does not look good.”

“Stolas where is Blitz?” You repeat yourself more clearly. Surely he just didn’t hear you, right?

He touches the bruises on your hand, amused. “And these! Oh my. Have you been fighting some rabid dog?” He laughs.

You retract your hand from his. It can’t be that he’s just ignoring everything you say, can it? “Stolas. Answer me.”

He dodges your words once again. “May I take a look at your head? You might have gotten a concussion from all this.”

“STOLAS!” You yell out, exasperated.

His preoccupied expression drops in a fraction of a second. “What is it?” He asks, visibly annoyed this time around.

“I am asking you a question!”

“I don’t know where he is! I don’t keep track of what you little imps do.”

“What? He’s in danger, Stolas, we need-”

“We need to do what? Help him? Save him?”

“Yes! How can you act so unbothered about all of this when I’m freaking the fuck out-”

“How about we make a deal?”

“What?”

“I’ll help you find your friends. If you give me a little… something… in return,” he offers, leaning closer to you.

“You’re not being serious right now.”

“But I am. You’ve seen no issue with my… deals… before.” He slowly drags his pointer finger along your face, condescendingly tapping your cheek once when he’s done. It actually makes you uncomfortable.

“Stolas, this is not the time.”

“Really? When is the time, pet?”

“Stop. This is not like you.”

“Is it not? Blitzy did warn you.”

“He’s wrong. He’s wrong. He’s wrong.”

[ . . . ]

Why, Moxxie, why? Do you hide your true feelings inside?

I am scared of rejection

Why, Moxxie, why? Do you have Millie put it in your butt?

It gives me an erectio- hey!

No need to hide We accept your true feelings, so promise me

That I can do To be true

The world is your anus, so peg it with honesty

“Ugh!”

I’ve been a jackass, it’s true

(You’ve been a jackass, it’s true)

But soon as we’re back as ourselves I will be a better friend than i was before

Be better at speaking my mind

And together we’ll begin to become… Fine

[ . . . ]

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the brightness of the lights, and you catch a glimpse of the reminiscents of the green fog dissipating. You’re still bound to that damn wodden chair and you can feel Moxxie and Blitzø move as they awaken as well. You look down at the floor, unable to even try and look at either of them after whatever that was that your brain conjured during your hallucination. Judging by the sheer silence, you can only imagine they’ve also gone through some sort of terrible vision while tripping on whatever this substance was.

Moxxie is the first to say something after what feels like an eternity.

“Blitz?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?”

“Not really,” Blitzø replies with a shrug.

“I remember. You told me I did a good job and that you were proud to work with me. I feel like you wanted to say something more judgemental, but… you said that because I needed it. And it helped.”

“I felt that too.”

“What?”

“When you came by to offer me the job. I wasn’t going to accept it. I think you knew that. But Moxxie said you’d talked non-stop about me and how you needed me for this to work. I felt like you wanted to correct him, but you didn’t. You let him tell me that. I still don’t know if it’s even true, but… I needed that.”

“Look, you care too much about what everyone thinks, except for… me, because, you know, my opinion is correct, but just… keep doing a good job, okay? I’m hard on you because I know what you’re capable of. Both of you. You kill good, you escape things easy, you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to and… don’t expect any more compliments, I maxed out.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You know my name. Use it.”

“Thanks, Blitz.”

A silence fills the atmosphere for a few seconds before you manage to say what you’ve been meaning to ever since waking up.

“Hey, Mox?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you… would you maybe give me shooting lessons?”

“Hey, I’m really sorry I said those things-”

“No, you- you were right. I can handle myself with a knife or a dagger or whatever but I’m pretty shit with a gun. And you’re the best shooter I know, so…”

“Second best shooter you know,” Blitzø corrects you, and you roll your eyes, smiling.

“So? What do you say?”

“Yeah. I’d love to, Y/N.”

“Cool.”

“What, you’re not gonna say anything to me?” Blitzø questions, annoyed.

“Honestly? I just… I’m glad you tried to steal from Ozzie that night. I’m glad we’re friends. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah. Same. Don’t expect much more than that, this has already been way too touchy-feely for me.”

You laugh. “Fair enough.”

“So how long do you think they’re gonna keep us-” As if on cue, Millie barges into the room through the glass, interrupting Blitzø. Through the huge hole left on the cracked glass, you see Loona standing on the other side of the room, and for only a moment does it make you nervous to see the both of them again, memories of them, angry and crying, coming back to you.

But Millie crushes Moxxie with a hug and peppers kisses all over his face and unties you and hugs you tight and asks you if you’re okay and suddenly your worries wash away like nothing but a bad memory. She’s there- the real her, and she’s worried about you.

Besides, you don’t get much time to dwell on the memories of what you saw while in delirium, because a siren starts sounding, alerting every single one of the agents in the building of your presence.

[ . . .]

“I- I can’t see dick!” Loona exclaims, exasperated at the useless attempt to read the words from the Grimoire and get all of you back home.

Blitzø fumbles with his pockets, trying to find more weapons, only to come up empty-handed. “Oh, shit. looks like we’ve milked this weapon tit-dry and now we’re out of badass-erry.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’ve got yourselves trapped into a government facility in the human world with no way to get back home and, suddenly, the two idiots that had held you hostage for the majority of the day didn’t seem as stupid as they did just a few minutes ago, now that they had the upper hand.

“Ha! You demons aren’t going anywhere now!” ‘Agent One’ mocks, holding a gun in your direction.

It seems like it might actually be the end for all of you, and it’s actually terrifying.

Until something happens.

The atmosphere in the room shifts, chills coursing through your spine as some sort of presence makes itself known. The many monitors in the room turn on, one at a time, making the sound of static take over the room before they begin to fall to the ground, one at a time as well, screens shattering against the floor.

A voice echoes through the tiny room, ominous and bone-chilling: “Who dare threaten my impish little playthings?”

You and Blitzø immediately whip your heads around to face each other, sharing an alarmed look.

Fuck. Stolas.

[. . .]

“How did you even know that we needed help?” Blitzø asks when Stolas comes back into his usual, normal form.

“I have my ways, darling. Are you two alright?” Is the first thing Stolas says as if possessing someone from Hell and making corpses summon him so he could come up to the human world though that someone’s body was no big deal, grabbing both you and Blitzø by your cheeks and squeezing them hard.

“We’re fine, Stolas,” Blitzø replies with an eye roll.

“Good. Good.” Stolas takes a deep breath before his eyes widen so much they might as well fall off his face- all four of them. “How the fuck did you get caught by humans? Are you little creatures not being careful up here? You know if you get in trouble I get in trouble. We don’t want that.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Stolas. We’re sorry,” you try.

Moxxie nods in agreement. “They caught us off-guard, Your Highness.”

Blitzø has a… less respectful approach. “Yeah, you can unclench your bird-puss, Stolas. It's not gonna happen again, okay?”

“Luckily for you, most don't believe the words of the demon-obsessed lunatics. They are seen as kooks.” Stolas laughs. “Kooks! Such a silly word. Now, let us all return,” He says, opening a opens a portal back to hell with ease.

“Yes, please. I'd like to return to the correct hell-hole as soon as possible,” Moxxie says, jumping into the portal, followed right away by Millie and Loona.

Unspokenly, Blitzø takes his place in Stolas’ arms, and you climb his back until you can wrap your arms around his neck, wrapping your legs around his torso as well.

He looks pleased at the position the three of you find yourselves in, “Am I going to get any thank you for this rescue?”

Blitzø raises a hand to his own chin, as if seriously pondering over the answer.“‘S’ppose you should. What do you think?” He asks you.

“Are you kidding me? That was so fucking hot, you can fuck me into next week for that.”

Your words ignite something within Stolas, whose voice sounds higher than usual when he tries to speak. “Oh. I’d very much like that.”

“Want me to fuck your brains out while you’re at it?” Blitzø offers.

“Very much so.”

“‘Kay but you’re gonna keep quiet or I'm gonna use the bear traps.”

“As if he’s not into that!” You accuse, laughing.

The feathers around Stolas’ neck puff up with arousal as he conjures up images of the scenario in his mind. “Please do.”

“See?”

A/N: yall thought i was giving up huh think again!!!

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ohbo-ohno · 1 year ago

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Hi, I love your writing so so so so so much and it's like my goal in life to get as good as writing as you, but I was just wanting to ask if you would write a ghoap puppy play drabble but with a ftm reader, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable but I actually can't find any puppy play stuff with a ftm reader in it and I would literally worship the ground you walk on if you did (if you don't feel comfortable doing this please don't)

yknow i dont take requests but you're actually the sweetest person alive (and i want to write puppy play rn) so sure!!! tysm for such kind words <3 (also your goal should be to get 10x better than me but i love you anyway)

1.8k of ghoap x ftm!reader with puppy play :) words used for reader's genitalia are cunt, hole, and cock (also reader is called pretty once)

It's a struggle not to beg, but you're a good boy. You stay still on your knees, paws resting on the wood below you, and you focus all of your attention on staying good.

Johnny's not good. Johnny's never a good boy, and usually that's a blessing for you, but right now it's a curse.

A whine slips from your lips, unintentional but loud. You lick your lips, swallow, and try to settle. Still, you've drawn Ghost's attention.

His hand stills in the air and he cocks an eyebrow. "Need somethin', pup?"

You lick your lips beneath the wire muzzle, shake your head. You don't need anything, you only want his hands on you. Simon's the only one who decides what you want.

He lands another smack against Johnny's bared ass, and the other pup wriggles on his lap, eyes screwed up - in pain or pleasure, you can't tell.

"Look'it him," Ghost rumbles, grabbing Johnny by the mohawk and forcing him to look at where you're knelt several feet away. "He's gotta wait for his turn because you can't remember how to be good. That seem fair?" He shakes Johnny's head for him, and you catch him smirk when Johnny whines. "You'd be barkin' and howlin' like I'd fuckin' shot you if your positions were reversed, but he's sitting there, nice and pretty."

You shift on your knees, padded hands tapping the floor in an effort to expel any of your energy. You pant with your mouth wide open, keep your eyes locked on Ghost, trying to ignore the clenching of your hole on nothing but air.

"Poor puppy," Ghost coos, voice edging into that part-affectionate part-condescending tone that makes you drip. "Having to watch me punish Johnny, when you should be getting all my attention. Is not fair, is it?"

That's a trick question, you know it. Anything Simon decides is fair, that's how this works, and you know intuitively that there's no right answer.

You whine, then yip, leaning forward a bit.

He laughs, letting go of Johnny's head and delivering another blow, this one making Johnny wail from behind his own muzzle.

"Little longer, pup," Ghost calls over Johnny's cries, every smack nearly as loud. "Just keep bein' good for me."

You can't help your noises as you watch Johnny's punishment, but you don't move. Your hips rock against the air, but you don't try and push your paws against your cock, don't try and get yourself off without permission.

You're good, you're a good boy. Ghost said so.

You try to keep your breathing even, try to keep yourself away from that cliff-edge of desperation that can get you in trouble, but it's almost impossible with the show you're watching

Johnny's face is red, streaked with tears as he takes his punishment. His thighs and ass are the same shade of red, and the cock hanging between Ghost's spread knees matches too. He's kept hard by the black cock ring at his base, but you know he doesn't need it. His feet kick and push at the couch cushions to no avail, his mitted hands punching and pushing at the arm of the couch.

He's more muted than you, his muzzle a thick leather instead of wire, but you can still hear the way he cries. Johnny's always been loud, and he's not shy about voicing his displeasure.

Eventually, Simon begins to slow his strokes, the sound of his slaps becoming quieter and the time between each one lengthening. Johnny's cries quiet to sniffles, and you shift forward even more, knowing what's coming.

You just barely manage to hold back a whine.

"See?" Ghost rumbles, stroking up and down Johnny's sweat-slick back. "You're alright, hush now. You bring it on yourself, Johnny. Wouldn't need a punishment if you could behave more than five minutes."

His eyes shift up to yours, and you can't bite back the whine this time. Ghost smiles at you as he shifts Johnny from his lap to the floor.

"Nothing like you, huh pup?" He raises a hand, motions you forward, and you're quick to crawl to him. You shove your head into his hand, melting into the scratches through your hair. Soap stays hunched on the floor next to you, head resting on Ghost's knee as he catches your breath.

"Yeah, you're my well-behaved puppy. Nothing like the mutt, hm?" You lean further into his hand, smiling when he chuckles and gives you the pets you desperately want. "My well trained pure-bred, hm? Maybe I should enter you in shows, let everyone see how perfect you are."

Johnny whines from next to you, digging his face further into Ghost's knee. Simon scoffs, but pets him too.

"Nah, couldn't do that with you, mutt. You'd embarrass me just for the punishment." His words are mean but Ghost's tone is soft, and Johnny's eyes nearly roll back in his head at the soft scratches to his scalp. "But you'd be jealous if he got all the attention, wouldn't you?" Ghost sighs, then uses his hands to push the both of you in so your muzzled cheeks are pressed together. "Guess I'll have to keep you all for myself."

Despite your own arousal, it's not too difficult for you to sit and wait while Ghost coaxes Johnny out of his punishment-headspace. It's nice to float in the softness, so rare with the three of you, and you're content with Ghost's hand on your head.

Eventually, he moves away.

"Alright, you want your treat, pup?"

You blink hazy eyes open, shifting to try and follow his hand with a whine. He smiles at you, and grabs you by the nape of the neck to guide you more fully between his legs.

"C'mon, don't you want a reward for bein' a good boy? I think Johnny deserves one too, for takin' his punishment so well."

Soap is quicker to perk up than you, quickly crawling so he's behind you. Realizing what's going on, you sit up more fully on your knees and brace your paws on Ghost's thighs, looking up at him and smiling.

"Pretty thing," he coos. "Don't worry, you'll get to come. Johnny." He snaps, the sound loud right next to your ear. "Go on. Mount him."

Johnny doesn't have the self-control to give you time to adjust, or to go slowly. One minute you're empty and aching, the next you're stuffed to the brim and stretched wide around Johnny's cock.

You both moan, and you feel the leather of his muzzle bump against your naked shoulder. You melt into the space between Ghost's thighs, eye-level with his cock tugged out of his pants as Johnny fucks you without giving you any time to adjust.

You whine loudly, eyes screwing shut at the near painful drag of his cock in and out of your hole. It's good to be filled, satisfying an ache that you've been fighting for what feels like hours, but your body can't help but fight the intrusion, pushing you further up on your knees and making you look up at Ghost for comfort.

He only smirks and pets a hand through your hair as Johnny snarls at your attempt to get away, paws landing on your shoulders and pushing you down into his ruthless thrusts. He snarls at your yelp, wide even behind the muzzle.

"You're alright," Ghost says, hand guiding your head to rest on his inner thighs. "We both know you like it rough, pup, be a good boy and let Johnny give you what you need."

He's right, Ghost is always right, and it doesn't take long for the sharp stretch to turn to pleasure, for the heavy drag of Johnny's cock in and out of you to leave you moaning instead of whining.

You pant with an open mouth, tongue lolling out to rest on your tongue as you try and breathe through the fucking, brain scrambled. Johnny's just as loud behind you, snarls and grunts and moans slipping through the leather as he bullies himself inside of you.

"There ya go, good boy," Ghost rumbles, giving you a solid pat. "Both of you, my two good boys. You're fuckin' him so good, Johnny, giving him such a good treat."

You work your hips against Johnny, pushing back in search for more pleasure, and whine high in your throat when it's still not enough.

"Y'need more, puppy?" Ghost asks, and you nod yes as vigorously as you can with your whole body being rocked in place.

"Here," he grunts as he shifts, moving one leg between your thighs and pressing his boot against your cock. You melt at the sensation, shoving yourself up and grinding against the strings. Your cries are almost deafening as Johnny's thrusts don't falter, the combination of stimulation heavenly.

"Go on, get yourself off. You've earned it."

You don't last long after that. You work your hips against his boot, the texture rough but perfect against your slick and swollen cock, sensitive hole still pounded mercilessly by Johnny. You feel insane with pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head and drool slipping endlessly down your chin as you let yourself drown in in.

You clench hard around Johnny when you finally come, cunt clenching him and milking him for all he's worth. He howls from behind his muzzle, pressing his face along your neck. You know if his mouth was free he'd be marking you, sucking bruises into your skin and covering you in his spit. You almost whine at the lack of it.

But you're far too drenched in your own euphoria to miss anything, really, your only focus on pushing yourself to higher heights of pleasure.

You float down, eventually, but you're immediately thrown into overstimulation as Johnny's pace continues exactly as it was. He continues to pound into your mercilessly, the sound of your slick shameful in the quiet room.

You paw in a panic at Ghost's thighs, looking up at him with wide eyes as you press closer to try and get away from the cock rearranging your insides. He only smirks and presses his boot up, the pressure against your cock so soon after an orgasm absolute torture.

"Let Johnny have his treat now," he scolds lightly, giving you a slight tap to your cheek that has you trying to nuzzle yourself into the crease between his thighs and hip. "Maybe he'll manage to get off, even with that pretty ring on his cock. Let's let him try, hm?"

You look up at him with vision blurred by tears, whining as you balance the sharp edge of pleasure-pain from Johnny's minstrations.

Ghost only smirks, petting you again. "Hang tight, pup. Be a good boy for me, let our other boy have his fun."

You whine, and bury your face next to his cock, trying to breathe evenly as Johnny only drives himself more and more insane inside your cunt.

#i really don't mind writing male reader stuff it's just not my default with cod for some reason #but i never imagine myself as my reader-inserts so it doesn't change much for me lol #asks and answers #ghoap x reader #ghoap x male reader #male reader #bo writes

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forgetmynamepleasethanks · 6 months ago

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IF YOU write for hazbin x helluva boss could you do a oneshot stolas x raven!reader whos family only recently became royals and are treated as lesser by the other royal families. the ravens arent as fancy as the other families and dont really care about all the royal stuff so they're kinda looked down upon. they meet at some meeting or you can decide. and make this take place after season 2 episode 9 so blitzo and him have broken up at least for now. thank you a ton!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I write for everything. That's why it takes me so long to write because I get a request, watch the entire show/consume the entire source material, then I start writing until I get a new request and the cycle continues. I am the Sisyphus of fanfiction. One must imagine forgetmyname happy. Anyways. Thank you for the request. I needed an excuse to watch season 2 of Helluva Boss. And shoutout to my favorite mutual for inspo for this I lowkey stole major plot elements from your story please forgive me. They're a better writer than I am so if you're interested in reading the inspiration for the latter half of this fic check out this. Also this isn't particularly romantic, just two straight guy cool guy besties (peak reference).

-----

If the parties weren't bad enough, the meetings were. Was being a royal really worth it? Sure, immortality, woo. How nice it is to spend the next ten thousand years sucking up to other pompous avians.

Despite your less-than-enthusiastic outlook on royalty, being the youngest of your brothers made you the prime target for all the busy work one could hope for.

That's why you found yourself here. Due to your family's relative youth in terms of royalty, you're positioned to the very far end of an uncomfortably long table seating representatives from all the royal houses in hell.

What a bunch of pricks.

The etiquette that your parents had drilled into you from such a young age- you truly believe they conceived you to be the perfect little delivery boy to turn errands for them- is the only thing keeping you in your seat and this stuffy cape and outfit on your body.

After a wait that could have lasted from 15 minutes to 15 years, the host of this meeting finally makes his entrance. As much as you like to pride yourself in your blasé attitude, being in the presence of King Paimon is enough to shut you up and sit you down.

"Welcome everyone please stop your yammering and listen to me. God when did there get to be so fucking many of you." Paimon announces as he makes his entrance.

"As I'm sure a few of you know hell is currently experiencing some unfortunate economic... blah blah blah"

Could this get any more boring? As you fight to keep your eyes in focus you notice someone standing by the door behind you. It's one of Paimon's sons. Stolas. Long time no see. You and Stolas used to be close, but the weight of royalty split you two apart.

Wow, he looks just as bored as you. I guess being Paimon's son would mean you get dragged along to a lot of borin- "You! Raven boy. Not to be rude or anything but what do you people even do?" Your internal monologue is cut off by Paimon. You don't respond for a beat, internally laughing at how Paimon literally doesn't know who you are or what your family does but you still have to be at this stupid meeting.

"We keep the humans out of hell, Your Highness." You respond dryly. It takes you a second to even notice that you've responded. The line is so ingrained into your lexicon that it practically says itself.

"Right! That's the totally important job I gave your very... snicker... esteemed family." Paimon snorts out, barely containing his mocking laughter. A handful of other representatives stifle laughs at your expense.

Oh, the joys of being a Corvus Arcana. The least royal royal family in hell.

"Yes well, you're dismissed. You're needed for other important tasks. Prince Stolas will direct you. Thank you for your time." Paimon says with mock sincerity.

Oh. Stolas. Yes. You know Stolas. You're flooded with memories of the two of you back at the old "Center for Princes to be" It was a glorified daycare, really. You two got up to a lot. He taught you a lot about the starts, and bugs, and everything he read about. You taught him how to make spit balls and get out of trouble you put yourself in.

You rise from your seat, flipping your cape as you walk to the door. In royal etiquette flipping your cape at someone is somewhat rude. Exactly what you wanted.

The conversation behind you restarts as you reach the door. Stolas is waiting for you with a nervous smile on his face, almost like he's got bad news.

"Ah, I remember you! I didn't know it was you who my father was talking about! Let's head out, shall we?" Stolas remarks oh so professionally. He's looking right at you, using his eyes to try and convince you he's excited about your new task, but you know him well enough to tell he'd rather be anywhere else right now.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" you respond sarcastically. Both of you know you were chosen for this because of your less-than-stellar family image.

"Ah! Well! You see- You were chosen for your... unique skills and inspired professionalism! Yes of course!" Stolas sputters out trying to respond without admitting that you were chosen because you're the trailer park trash of the royal family.

A smile creeps onto your face at the owl's half-baked response. He was never the most socially perceptive, even in his youth. You follow the tall owl out of the meeting room and down some of the winding hallways of Paimon's manor.

"Well hopefully my 'inspired professionalism' landed me something to do besides sitting in that room. How bad could it be? As long as it's not something stupid like stacking boxes." You respond lackadaisically. You look to Stolas for a reaction but he seems fully focused on looking at some dusty old paintings on the wall.

Then you round a corner into a freshly moved into bedroom. So fresh that boxes are strewn about. You look up at Stolas who's scratching the back of his head and looking anywhere and everywhere but your direction.

"No way. It's stacking boxes." You state dumbfounded.

"If it's any recourse I will be helping you unpack. That's our mission. Isn't that... heh... fun?" Stolas replies. You look him up and down. Both of you know how stupid this is.

You just sigh.

Twenty minutes later you're unpacking boxes. Your cape is discarded on the bed, the effort of moving boxes with both magic and your birdy body causing you to break a sweat, and as promised Stolas is helping. You can't help but sneak glances at him. He really has changed a lot since you were kids. He's a lot taller for one thing. Besides the obvious physical change, he seems to never have really put himself together. You can tell he's struggling.

Ruffled feathers, quick to anger, and somewhat mopey. To an average royal this would seem pretty normal. Royals aren't known for their vigor and lust for life. To you, these are signs that he's not doing so hot. Struggling to lift a white cardboard box labeled "FRAGILE!" the tall owl is surprisingly human- well, demon? Humanized? He seems a lot more likable than the rest of the royals.

You decide to break the silence. "So tell me. What's a big important bird like you doing unpacking boxes with lil old me?" It's almost self-deprecating the way you look down on yourself.

"Me?- Ah of course he means you- My father brings me along as a secretary of sorts to his meetings when I'm available." Stolas responds while trying to not trip over a box of pillows as he places knickknacks he got out of a box around the dresser.

You snort at his response. "I have a secretary but she doesn't unpack rooms." You banter at him. This seems to irk Stolas. "Yes well since my divorce it seems my father can't resist the urge to assign me silly tasks as if I were some child in need of a distraction." Stolas snaps at you. He drops his volume at the mention of his divorce, which has surely affected how he is perceived by the other royals.

Despite how peeved he sounds by your comment, it sounds more like he's disheartened than truly upset.

You had heard of his divorce. You didn't care. Your family was never huge on the whole arranged marriage thing. You weren't even married yet, which for a prince of your age was unheard of in most other families.

You smile, half sympathetically, half filled with schadenfreude. "Join the club." An uncomfortable silence fills the air after your response. Stolas was aware of how your family is treated. It seemed silly to complain about being assigned trivial tasks like unpacking a room to a Corvus Arcana. It's sort of like complaining about a paper cut to a man missing both his arms.

"I apologize," Stolas says.

"For what?" You respond quizzically. "For how the others treat you. Merely because your lineage is young does not justify the lack of respect or meaningful assignments they've received from the other royals." Stolas says.

The uncomfortable silence fills the air once again. Stolas had always been the only person to treat you like a true royal. Back in the day, he was the only one to play with you, share with you, or even really acknowledge you. You two unpack in silence. After another ten minutes of unpacking you finally can't take it anymore.

"This blows. Wanna ditch this stupid "assignment"?" You stretch your arms and let the box you were carrying fall to the ground with a thump. Stolas looks at you dumbfounded.

"Ditch? Like... 'play hooky'? No... I could never! I'm much to old for that type of behavior now." Stolas seems aghast at the idea of offending his father. You turn around and grin at him. "Oh like anyone's gonna miss us! There's a million servants around here that can unpack this dumb room. Let's ditch this. Or are you gonna tell me you're having a blast?"

"That's not the point. I can't just leave!" Stolas retorts.

"You're an adult now. Plus King Paimon clearly doesn't care what we're up to. No one's checked on us. C'mon, we used to do this all the time. It'll be like back then when we used to sneak away from the nannies at daycare." You rebuttal. You can see Stolas fighting with himself over what to do.

The look on Stolas' face is priceless. There's nothing quite like a royal trying to decide if it's worth doing something considered "non-royal".

"I suppose it's okay to leave unannounced... I read something about the human country of Ireland and how its people say goodbye without saying anything and-" Stolas realizes he's rambling. "Ah well... yes. I guess I'd like to leave."

You shake your head in mock surprise at his overly introspective response. "Follow me."

You two walk in silence for a moment. You're spending the quiet time considering your current circumstances. You and the prince of the Ars Goatia are playing hooky from a meeting neither of you were really invited to. Huh. Interesting spot you've found yourself in.

Conversely, Stolas is trying his best to keep his cool. He's not so used to just leaving these types of things. You two have also not spoken much since you were young. There was never any bad blood or anything, being a royal is just time-consuming.

Stolas follows closely behind you as you walk out of the castle. "So... if you don't mind me asking..." Stolas begins, waiting for your confirmation to continue. After a quick nod from you, Stolas furrows his brow, contemplating his words before speaking, "Your..." He pauses, searching for a diplomatic way to phrase it. "casual demeanor seems almost at odds with your status as a royal. It's always been quite intriguing, I must say. Most other royals tend to carry themselves with a certain..." He gestures with a hand. "formality, shall we say. Your informal manner is indeed a rare sight." Stolas asks you.

The owl's attempts at not offending you are admirable. "Well. My family is much younger than yours, as you know. While your family and all the others gained power at the very start of hell my family rose to power a short three hundred years ago. To put it bluntly, we don't really do all the royal stuff." You respond, trying to explain your family's situation.

"I see... fascinating." Stolas offers. The two of you make it out of the castle without another word.

You two find yourselves behind the castle. You hop up on a small ledge to see over the hedges. Stolas, being tall, can see over just fine.

"Well. The world's our oyster." You say. The night is fresh upon you and the city shines spectacularly below you. You look up at Stolas with a mischievous grin. "How quickly would your dad notice if his fancy schmancy car went missing?"

Stolas snickers at your question. "We'll just have to find out I suppose."

-----

I don't really like how this turned out but I also feel like I say that after everything I write. I'm also pretty rusty (and slightly intoxicated). Life has been up my ass for like two years so that's where I've been. Once again, massive props to freakyfrye for a lot of inspiration behind this. I had no clue where to take it but I read their story and it was great! Worth checking out. Anyways I hope you enjoyed.

#stolas x reader #stolas #helluva boss #stolas goetia #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss oneshot #helluvaboss #male reader #x male reader #platonic x reader

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genderqueerdykes · 24 days ago

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Hi. Here's a lot of words that y'all don't have to read and I have a question that y'all don't have to answer. I think you all make a lot of great points. I'm sorry if this is on the blog already.

I think I might be what you call an egg. I just try not to think about it. I'm going through a lot of stuff right now that needs processing and I can get to the gender thing when I can get to the gender thing. That said, I'm trying to let myself exist in queer spaces and it feels like everyday women are bashing men without batting an eye. Actually, that's happening not just in queer spaces. Nobody says anything except to agree. Even people that I've known for a while and know that I'm married to a cis man whom I love and respect (and who actually got me interested in feminism). I told one friend that I was uncomfortable by her comments and she flipped it around, pouted exasperatedly, and said, "I thought you were a safe space!" I didn't know that there was a safe space for sexism!

What the fuck do I say to people? I'm autistic and have an extreme sense of justice and can't just let things go but I want to be at least somewhat respectful-sounding because when you yell at people they shut down and think you're wrong/the problem. I also don't want to talk their ears off/write paragraphs like this. 😬

🌀

jesus, i'm so sorry people are treating you like that. it really hurts my head to see people do this. you don't deserve that kind of behavior, you're not a shitty person for trying to figure out your gender. you're not shitty for being happily married to a cis man. i have so many words so i hope i won't give you a reply that's too long to parse

no matter what people's beliefs are, everyone is reinforcing that women need to hate men. like you're right it's just everywhere. not just queer communities. it's weird. it's like, i get it, the way we force men to act is absurd. we need to focus on helping men snap out of the shitty things we force them to do and support them in growing and changing. also like i don't get how people dont see how terrible it is to openly admit that they see trans men, queer men, gay men, bi men, disabled men, men of color, intersex men, multigender men, and so on. there are so many groups of men affected by this i dont get why people don't care

this "safe space" thing has gotten abused to hell and back. it's out of control, now it's being used as a gatekeeping tool. it's weird to me but people are defining things like this:

general lgbt/queer communities = women's safe space

lesbian community = women's safe space

nonbinary community = women's safe space

butch, gender non conforming, genderqueer community = women's safe space

genderfluid, bigender, multigender communities = women's safe space

bisexual, pansexual, polysexual, & polyamorous communities: women's safe space

like it's gotten way out of control. people think that every experience that doesn't outright say man is a women's safe space. and even then, we see entitlement there in the transmasculine and trans man communities as well. the thing is is like. these are intended to be communities. not safe spaces. like

women's groups exist. there are groups dedicated to providing safe spaces for just women, irl. a lot of the time they're based out of crisis and sexual assault survivor clinics, but there's also ones for homeless women, and so on. like i honestly guarantee you that if you googled "women's safe space" you'd find some local, brick and mortar places designed to be there for women and only women. like. those. exist.

we don't have to turn the entirety of queerness into a women's safe space. i feel like women who have been hurt by men are running to the wrong place a lot of the time. or they expect every other queer person to have the same trauma as them. like i think people in general are very queerphobic and assume that most queer people are women, for some reason?

i don't know why people view this as the "running away from men club". that's how terfs define the lesbian community. if you want to show people why this is dogshit, it's because that's literally how terfs define lesbianism. that's how rad fems define lesbianism. the "we hate men, we never want to be around men ever again, men are inherently dangerous" club is the lesbian separatism club.

people often say "why is there a lot of talk of lesbian supremacy lately?"

it's because so many people got indoctrinated into rad feminism without ever realizing it. queer communities are not the "we hate men" communities. those are rad fem communities.

so many queer spaces need to involve men, because men are very important in so many queer experiences. erasing their experiences and denying them the right to be in those spaces isn't helping anyone. if people want to be in all woman groups, they need to search specifically for that. if someone defines "lesbian" as "women's only safe space," they're looking for a women's space. honestly, maybe people just need to be nudged in the right direction. maybe not enough people know there are literal all woman safe spaces irl that help women with homelessness, sexual and domestic abuse, childcare, substance abuse, mental health, and many other resources.

sometimes there are behavioral health and crisis centers that accept just women. some psychiatric hospitals have spaces for just women. it really is possible to create, nurture and participate in womens only spaces. people are just trying to take over something they personally don't belong in, and it's insane that that's the norm right now. people are obsessed with going backwards in terms of progress in accepting diversity in queer lives.

anyway, i hate this shit, so i hope things improve for you soon, people are just. so proud of being mean right now. people are proud to be assholes and they take it out on disadvantaged men. isn't that sad? people are pissed off about patriarchy, the establishment ABOVE us, so they attack poor, mentally ill, disabled, neurodivergent, intersex, trans, queer men and men of color, as if that'll solve anything.

#asks #answers #man hating #antimasculism

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hyuniemyunie · 8 days ago

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*gulp* u...uh... can I please please request a reigen x f!reader where theyre childhood friends who've been mutually pining for eachother ever since they met.. 👁👁💧[nervous and shaking because I dont wanna seem like im asking 4 too much]

reigen arataka x f!reader childhood friends to lovers

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

OMGGGG HIII😭 FINALLY A REIGEN REQUEST. no no ofc youre not asking for too much i actually got so happy when i saw ur request😭💞💞

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

Reigen leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his desk in a rhythm he wasn’t even aware of. You were sitting on the couch across from him, flipping through a magazine, but he couldn’t focus on anything except you. The light from the window caught on your hair, and he caught himself staring—again.

Get it together, man.

He cleared his throat, hoping the sound would distract you, but you didn’t even look up. It wasn’t like he wanted you to notice him staring or anything—it’d just make this whole thing more embarrassing. Still, his chest tightened at the sight of you so at ease, like this was any other day.

For you, it probably was.

For him? It was torture.

He’d known you forever, back when your biggest concerns were playground fights and scraped knees. Back then, he thought he had all the time in the world to figure out why being around you felt different. But here you were, all grown up, sitting just a few feet away, and he still hadn’t figured out how to deal with this... this feeling.

He rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to look busy as his thoughts raced.

How do you even say something like that? “Hey, remember how we used to play tag? Yeah, well, now I’m in love with you.” Great plan, Reigen. That’s not awkward at all.

“Something on your mind?” Your voice broke through his spiral.

Reigen nearly dropped his pen. “Huh? No! Nothing at all!” The words came out too fast, too loud. He winced internally, watching as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’ve been weird all day,” you said, setting the magazine aside. “Are you okay?”

Weird? He felt his stomach drop. Had he been that obvious? “Weird? No, I’m just, uh, busy. You know how it is—clients, spirits, paperwork...” He gestured vaguely to the empty desk in front of him.

Your lips twitched like you were trying not to laugh. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

He groaned, slumping forward onto his desk. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’m a little distracted.”

You tilted your head, watching him curiously. “Distracted by what?”

By you.

He wanted to say it. The words were right there, lodged in his throat, but every time he tried to let them out, he froze. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if he ruined everything?

“I’ve just been thinking about... stuff,” he said instead, his voice a little quieter.

“Stuff,” you repeated, your tone teasing.

“Yeah, stuff,” he shot back, sitting up straight. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to act casual. “Big, important, grown-up stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a softness in your expression that made his chest ache. “Sure, Reigen. Whatever you say.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. He could hear the faint hum of the air conditioner, the occasional creak of the building settling. And through it all, his mind kept circling back to the same thought:

Just tell her.

But he couldn’t. Not yet. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Hey,” he said, his tone lighter now, “remember when we were kids, and you tripped during that school play? You faceplanted right in front of the whole class.”

Your laugh was immediate, bright and genuine. “You were the one who told me to run in those stupid shoes!”

“Hey, I was trying to help!” he said, grinning despite himself. “Besides, you still got a standing ovation. Well, mostly out of pity, but it counts.” You threw a magazine at him, and he caught it easily, laughing as he tossed it back onto the couch.

Moments like this were why he couldn’t say anything. Why he couldn’t risk losing you.

But as he watched you laugh, saw the way your eyes lit up and your shoulders relaxed, he felt that familiar pang in his chest. He’d been holding this in for years, telling himself it wasn’t the right time, that he’d figure it out later.

Later was starting to feel like a cop-out.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer now.

You looked at him, your laughter fading into a small, curious smile. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, his fingers drumming against the desk. He wanted to tell you. He needed to tell you. But instead, he shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Never mind.”

Your brow furrowed, but you didn’t press him. “Okay,” you said, standing and stretching. “I’m gonna go buy a drink. You want anything?”

“No, I’m good,” he said, watching as you walked toward the exit.

The moment you were out of sight, he let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair.

'One day,' he promised himself. 'One day, I'll tell her.' But for now? He'd just have to settle for this.

---

Reigen tapped his fingers on the desk, his mind racing as he listened to the sound of you entering the office again. You were just a few steps away, and yet the distance felt insurmountable. His heart pounded in his chest, loud enough that he was sure you’d hear it when you came back.

You can’t keep chickening out like this. She’s been your best friend for years. If anyone’s going to understand, it’s her.

But what if you didn’t? What if you laughed, or worse, pitied him? He shook his head, trying to shove the thought away. Before he could second-guess himself again, you reappeared, holding a can of soda. You glanced at him, your brows knitting together. “You’re being weird again.”

“Am not” he shot back, too quickly.

You set the glass down on the table and crossed your arms, giving him a look that told him you weren’t buying it. “Reigen.”

The way you said his name—it wasn’t accusing or impatient. It was soft, full of concern, and it made his stomach twist. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh.

“Alright, fine. You got me. I’ve been... off” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

You stepped closer, sitting on the edge of his desk. “What’s going on? You can talk to me, you know.”

That was the problem. He could talk to you—about anything, really. You’d always been there, always listened, even when he rambled about ridiculous clients or over-the-top exorcisms. But this? This was different. Still, the way you were looking at him now, with that quiet patience and trust, made something in him snap. He couldn’t keep holding it in.

“I... There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he started, his voice faltering. Your expression softened, and you leaned forward slightly, waiting.

He took a deep breath, his palms sweating as he rubbed them against his pants. “Look, I know this might sound... weird, or out of nowhere, but it’s not. I’ve been sitting on this for years, and honestly, I’m tired of pretending it’s not there.”

You tilted your head, your brows furrowing. “Reigen, what are you—”

“I like you,” he blurted out, cutting you off. Then, as if realizing how ridiculous he sounded, he winced and quickly corrected himself. “No, I mean... I really like you. Like, more-than-friends kind of like.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than anything he’d ever said before. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, his eyes fixed firmly on the desk as he continued.

“I know I’m not the most... normal guy. I’ve got my flaws, my quirks—probably too many to count. But you’ve stuck around anyway, and that’s meant more to me than I can even put into words. And somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking of you as just my best friend and started thinking of you as... everything, hell, even my mom thinks we're dating.” His chest felt tight, his pulse hammering in his ears. He dared a glance at you, and the look on your face made him pause. You weren’t laughing or frowning. You were just staring at him, wide-eyed, like you were trying to process what he’d just said.

“I don’t expect you to feel the same way,” he added quickly, his voice a little more frantic now. “And if this messes things up, I get it. But I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. I just... I needed you to know.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Reigen felt like the ground might open up and swallow him whole. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

And then, you smiled.

It wasn’t a big, dramatic smile. It was small, soft, and warm, the kind of smile that made his breath catch in his throat.

“You’re such an idiot,” you said, your voice teasing but full of affection.

He blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I’ve liked you for years, Reigen,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing. “I thought it was obvious.”

His jaw dropped, and for a moment, he was completely speechless. Then, he let out a laugh—part disbelief, part relief—as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re kidding. You’re kidding, right?”

You shook your head, your smile widening. “Nope. Dead serious.”

Reigen leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he let out a long breath. “Well, now I feel like an idiot.”

You laughed, and the sound was like music to his ears. “You should.”

He sat up, looking at you with a grin that was equal parts sheepish and overjoyed. “So... does this mean you’d be okay with me, uh, taking you out to dinner? As, you know, more-than-friends?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. “Yeah, I’d be more than okay with that.”

“Great!” he said, standing up and holding out his hand dramatically. “Well then, allow me to escort you to the finest ramen shop in town.”

You took his hand, laughing as he pulled you to your feet. “You’re such an idiot..”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot now!!” he shot back, winking.

And as the two of you walked out of the office together, Reigen couldn’t help but feel like, for the first time in a long time, he’d actually done something right.

#reigen x reader #reigen arataka #mp100 reigen #mob psycho reigen #mp100 #mp100 x reader #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho 100 x reader #fem reader #female reader #f!reader

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legacyshenanigans · 2 years ago

Text

Part 9 to the Marvolo and MC series!!

Marvolo x MC 💚

The Engagement 🐍

Little darkness (the beginning part, mentions of a dead body at the den) Little angsty, little fluffy yet kinda heavy at the end.

Ominis took in a deep breath as he arrived at the Den after being forced by his father to do so, Marvolo was there, and their father needed him to go home. Ominis always hated the idea of this place, and didn't want to go inside, but he managed to talk himself into it, from the outside of the Den you'd never tell the stuff that goes on in there, it looked like a mundane building you wouldn't look twice at, magic set upon it to keep folk away, but Ominis knew it's location.

He stepped inside, suddenly greeted harshly by the sounds of loud music and distant echoed screams of pain and tools being used for nothing good, which made him wince, an uncomfortable look on his face. A dark witch sat nearby and frowned at him, standing and quickly approaching him, putting a hand around his throat.

Witch: You don't look like you belong here, sweet thing *wicked little laugh*

Ominis: *frowns* Unhand me.. I'm here to talk to my brother, Marvolo.

The witches eyes widened for a moment as she instantly let go of Ominis. She stepped aside, glaring at him.

Witch: You're a Gaunt?..My apologies..He's downstairs in the basement area..Do you want me to take you to him?

Ominis glared back in her direction, his brows still heavy from her unnecessary throat grab.

Ominis: No..I'll find my way..

With that, he lifted his wand and carried on down the halls. He hated it, death hung in the air, he was thankful atleast in this moment that he couldn't see the place, he tried to focus on just making his way downstairs, as dark wizards and witches turned from their 'activities' to watch him with intrigue.

He made his way downstairs, where he heard Marvolos laughter and voice talking with someone, he entered the room where the voices came from. Marvolo turned his head looking over at the door from leaning on a large slab table, where another dark wizard was currently about to cut up a body, Marvolos eyes didn't leave Ominis as he reached out grabbing the other Dark wizard's arm, the man glancing at him, then towards Ominis.

Marvolo: Leave..

The wizard instantly left the room. Ominis made his way over to Marvolo, about to put his hand down on the bloodied table, which Marvolo quickly stopped Ominis from doing, he let out a chuckle.

Marvolo: Don't touch anything in here...

Ominis: *figets with his hands, an uncomfortable expression on his face*

Marvolo: *narrows his eye's and smirks at Ominis* Strange..Seeing you here..Must be important, what's wrong? Or what's happening?

Ominis: Father needs you home as soon as possible. I dont think anything is wrong, though. He just said "sooner rather than later" I guess it's important, he wouldn't of sent me of all people here otherwise..

Marvolo frowned slightly in thought.

Marvolo: Hmm..Ok, I have things to quickly finish up here..*smirks* why don't you stay and we can head back together? *laughs knowing the answer*

Ominis: You, me, and a dead body? Not likely.. I have plans anyway, and I'd like to get out of here right now. Truth be told, I dont want to spend longer in here than I have to..

Marvolo: *wicked grin* How do you know there's a dead body in here?

Ominis: *sigh*....I can smell it.

Marvolo: *smooth chuckle* Go on then, be gone, I'll return home as soon as possible..

Ominis nodded his head and quickly left the room. Marvolo looked at the body on the table, picking up the bone saw, wondering what it was his father wanted..

Business at the den had come to yet another close, and he made his way home, wondering what would be waiting for him there, he flicked his cigarette away as he approached the Gaunt home, opening the door and walking into the foyer, before hearing his parents nattering in the living room, he wandered in to find them both sat in there, both of them looking at him. He furrowed his brows slightly.

Marvolo: Heh..Oooh..Am I in trouble?

Aleister: Sit down, Marvolo.

His father looked serious, where as his mother had a look of slight concern and discomfort, but she tried to remain serious, Marvolo noticed this instantly, but sat down in front of his parents, staring at his father.

Aleister: I have made arrangements, an engagement party..

Marvolo: *narrows his eyes* Interesting.. Who's engagement?

Aleister: *wicked grin* Why, yours, dear boy...

Marvolos eyes flickered to his mother, they shared a very quick glance, but spoke a thousand words in that flash of a moment, after all, Ophelia had already witnessed Marvolo and MC sharing a kiss in the garden, and thus far had kept to her word and not told Aleister about it.

Marvolo: And who is this mystery women I'm to marry?

Aliester: Your 3rd cousin, Elizabeth..

Marvolo cleared his throat, leaning forward in his chair.

Marvolo: No.

Aleister gave him a confused and offended look.

Aleister: What do you mean, no?

Marvolo: What the fuck do you think I mean? I said no, I shan't be doing such a thing, Father..

Aleister: *chuckles* what are you so concerned about, Marvolo? Feelings for her? Love? PHA!...You don't have to love her..Just sleep with her and have a couple of kids with her atleast.

Ophelia: *frowns* Is that how it was for you with me?

Aliester: Of course not Ophelia, I fell deeply in love with you..Which I'm SURE Marvolo will do the same with Elizabeth, isn't that right, son?

Marvolos fist clenched as he sat there for a moment giving his father a nasty look, Aleister returning it. They just glared at eachother, before, in unison they both stood, whipping out their wands, and aiming at eachother, Ophelia stood quickly standing between them.

Ophelia: STOP IT..

Marvolo: Mother, Step aside.

Aleister: You're marrying that girl Marvolo, I see no reason why you can't and shouldn't..And why you're acting like this, you knew this day would come..Eventually.

Ophelia: Marvolo has spent his evening at the Den Aleister, perhaps he's just tired and clouded right now *gives Marvolo a look as if for him to agree with her*

Marvolo: *lowers his wand* Perhaps..Yes..

Aleister lowered his own wand, glaring curiously at Marvolo.

Aleister: Then go..Sleep...*sits back down on his chair* Oh..And never aim your wand at me again, Marvolo...We shall discuss this further another time..

Marvolo gave his mother one last look before he quickly left the room, and storming out of the front door. He was so angry and his face showed it as he wandered off into the night.

Ominis had said he had plans, Marvolo instantly assumed those plans involved hanging out with his friend's at the three Broomsticks, which Ominis did often, and that MC would have been there, He made his way into Hogsmead approaching the pub, and peering in with his hood up, seeing them. Luckily for him, MC got up to go and get another drink. She spotted him by the door and looked at him confused, looking back at the gang before looking back at him. While they were preoccupied, she quickly went over to the door.

MC: Are you alright?

Marvolo: I need to talk to you..Meet me outside the Forbidden forest at midnight.

MC: OK..Sure..Are you alright though?

Marvolo: *sigh* Just...Meet me. Ok?

MC nodded her head concerned before Marvolo wandered off. Hearing how disgruntled he was set off her anxiety..

It was a quarter past midnight, and Marvolo paced, waiting impatiently for her at the forest entrance, MC quickly made her way down the path towards him.

Marvolo: Oh god, you're here. Finally.

He sighed as he grabbed hold of her, MC throwing her arms around the back of his neck as he lifted her off the ground, kissing her in a spin, MC giggled as he broke away form the kiss and set her down.

MC: Well, that was a nice greeting, I was worried you were mad at me for some reason. You seemed really agitated in Hogsmeade.

Marvolo furrowed his brows as he looked at her.

Marvolo: I was..And I still am...I needed to see you, but you've done nothing wrong, so don't worry about that..

He held out his hand, she took it as they both entered the forest together, he took her back to the lake where they'd had their first date, and let out a sigh.

MC: What is it?

Marvolo: *looking out into the lake* My father...He..He's set an engagement *looks at her* for me..

MC stared at him for a moment, taking in what he just said, her anxiety flooding back, she felt a heavy drop in her stomach.

MC: What?!

Marvolo: MC-

MC: So you've brought me here to break up with me? Because your father is making you marry another?! Is that it?!

Marvolo: MC!

MC: *freaking out as she grabs hold of him, tears building up in her eyes* Marvolo, please...I...I can't-

Marvolo turned to her, holding her tightly, stroking the back of her head.

Marvolo: Shhhh, shhhh, MC, calm yourself..

MC: *crying into him* I can't lose you..

Marvolo: And you're not going to..

His hands cupped her face as he looked down into her eyes.

Marvolo: Look..Its not happening..Ok?...I'm not going anywhere..Do you understand?

MC: But..Your father-

Marvolo: I know..I'll..Figure something out..I dont want to be with anyone else but you..

MC: *sniffles* Really? You truly mean that?

Marvolo leaned down, giving her a tender kiss on the lips.

Marvolo: Yes, MC...Its the one thing in my life that I'm sure of..I don't want to lose you either.

He used a thumb to wipe a tear from her cheek.

MC: What are we going to do? Are you going to tell your father about us?

Marvolo: *whispers* I'm unsure yet...I need to think about this..Carefully.

MC: Whatever you decide, just know I love you..More than anything.

Marvolo: *small smile* And I love you..Always know that.

#the gaunts hc #the gaunt family #marvolo gaunt hc #marvolo gaunt #marvolo gaunt headcanon #marvolo x mc

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 months ago

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If you want I'd love a part two for the sheriff!bickerman story with smut possibly!

IT WAS SO GOOD LOVE YOUR JIM CONTENT IT GIVES ME LIFE

YOU LOVE MY JIM STUFF?? I love y o u! ^^ *hugs*

I don't usually take requests, but um... I'm very biased with Jim XD Especially Sheriff Jim; that was so much fun to write XD I hope you like it and come back to talk about him with me! ^^

Sheriff!Jim Bickerman x AFAB!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Jim's away on a work trip to a neighbouring county station, sent by (Chief of Police) Reba, because he's driving her up a wall, and you miss him. Its been almost a month now, and you're about ready to promise him anything if he'll just come back.

And- the good thing about Jim? He'll totally blow of work for the right price.

Warnings: (Large) Age difference relationship (25/60's), sexual references, TWO (1) 'daddy' mentions (Dont blame me, he starts it himself. I don't control him. Says the fic writer), and a uhhhhhHHHH little fingering at the end... vaguely edited.

*reader takes a university class and that's where they know Owen from.

Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball , @obscureother and @slxsherwriter .

After the thing at the party Owen couldn't let it go and pretty much immediately went bawling to Reba, the chief of police. He made it sound like Jim almost killed him (Which... okay yeah, was true.), for no good reason of course (Not at All), because he's a crazy senile old poacher and shouldn't be on the force, blah blah blah. Reba thankfully didn't fire Jim, but she had to do something; So she sent him away to do some light research in another county. Some woman's adult daughter was still 'missing' (You think her name was Daphne) and she figured it might kill two birds with one stone sending him away to confer with the officers over there. Make the mama happy, stop Owen bothering her about this, and get Jim out of her hair.

Reba was jazzed with the outcome and Owen was appeased and very annoyingly smug in classes, but Jim sure as hell wasn't. And neither were you, spending your nights alone now house-sitting for your booted cowboy.

And its been a month, now.

A month since you saw him. And you miss him. You talk on the phone (because, thank god, being sheriff forced him to keep one finally), and that's nice, but it's not the same. At this point, you're struggling to focus in class. As soon as you look to the front where your teacher stands droning on, your mind starts to wander.

You're about to take out your phone and text him (he doesn't text but he always takes the next oppertunity to leave you a voice message), when Owen comes into class late and drops into the seat beside yours. Immediately your eyes roll upwards out of annoyance, and you put away your phone so he doesn't see. It's not like Jim's contact is his name, you aren't that dumb-- but you'd rather Owen didn't know you were seeing anyone anyway. He'll just bother you about it.

The bastard.

"Hey," He whispers, leaning over the arm of his chair and too-close to you despite you clearly shifting away from him and his hit breath. "What did I miss??"

Rolling your eyes where he can't see, you give a sigh. At the time, you really didn't think he would drug you or hurt you. He's just annoying- not an idiot. But after the fact, you keep wondering.

You can't help but think about how determined he was. That was wierd. And you didn't even ask for that drink-- he just went ahead and made it for you. In fact he had it for you before you even saw him or approached him. He had been waiting.

... whether your suspicions were founded or not though, you were still irritated by him these days. If only for sending Jim away and being obnoxious about it.

"Listen now so you don't miss anything else, hm?" You whisper back, a heavy dash of finality in your voice. Forcing him with your tone to back up. Stop breathing on you.

Luckily it works, and you spend the next 10 minutes uncomfortable he's even next to you. The main thing on your mind, though, is Jim.

Look, you're not usually the kind of person to lose sense, or get all wrung out, over a man- in fact, some space can be good. You can't deal with someone every second of the day. You cant deal with Jim every second of the day, he's crazy. But goddamnit! It's been a month since you so much as saw him!!

You miss him.

Another few minutes of lessons in the background of your mind and wondering about the length and craziness of Jim's beard after a month at the forefront of your mind. Your thoughts are wandering further and further away from class again, until you finally give up and grab your phone.

"Hey." Owen pipes up again, whispering so harshly at you so you jump out of surprise.

"What??"

"Where are you going?? Can I come?"

"Going to the bathroom. No."

"How do I know you're not just leaving me here??" He smirks, and you feel your stomach roll over inside you.

With a glare, you just roll your eyes and try to leave again. You are not doing banter with this guy-

"Wait, hey. I wanted to ask you. You noticed old 'Sheriff' Bickerman's still a no-show lately??" You stop moving, plopping back down in your seat. Slowly you turn your head to look at Owen, deadpanned. He cannot be serious. "Yeah? Heh. Wanted to ask you since you volunteer at the station sometimes, an' if you still haven't seen him, then he's gotta still be off on probation. Damn straight, right?"

You think your eyes are going to roll all the way into the back of your skull. Somehow though, your whisper remains calm; no hint of ferocity in the undertones. "Reba didn't send him on probation, Owen. He's doing work."

"Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to."

You sigh. Roll your eyes and resist the urge to curse at him. Tuck your phone into your jeans pocket. And leave the auditorium bathroom-bound.

"Obnoxious, smug, twisted little weasel." You mutter, shaking your head and pulling out your phone as you turn into the bathroom.

You: How's it going? Miss you, you old fart. Cant focus.

"Hm." You hum, pressing send and leaning back on the stall wall; not expecting a responce immediately but needing a break from Owen, anyhow. So you might as well actually go to the bathroom. You're about to do just that, when to your surprise your phone lights up with a call and the sound of your ringtone fills the small bathroom. Loudly. While you answer and put the device to your ear, you simultaneously close the main door and lock it. "Hey! Stranger."

"Thinkin about this old bastard, huh sweetcheeks?"

Sweetcheeks of all pet names- is not your favourite. Usually when he calls you that you feel like cringing but right now you can just grin at the sound of his voice. Shit. "Mhmm... you look any different?" You're sure he can hear it in your voice, but that's okay because you can hear the smirk in his.

"Yeah actually, honey. Well, I got purple hair now. And also, a tattoo. Big ass singin bass on my back. "

"Oh, hot." You grin, chuckle, and shake your head. "Can't wait to see."

"You just wait, sugar."

"That's three petnames in under 2 minutes, Mr Bickerman. You miss me or something??"

"Something like that, yeah," In your head you see the smirk turn into a genuine grin when his voice gets soft and FUCK- you want him home. You want him home now.

Sighing, you bump your shoulder into the door and lean there, dropping your temple against the surface too. A frown wriggles across your face. When Jim speaks again, a grimace and a cold edge have creeped into his voice. "So. What's that little weasel been up to?... dancing in circles that I'm still gone?"

The exact same tone takes residence in your voice, too. "Yeah, pretty much. He's next to me in class today, hence why I'm hiding in the bathroom now."

"You're hiding in the bathroom??"

"He sat too close to me, I could feel his gross hot breath on the side of my face when he talked to me- and he was asking about you, too. I needed a break."

At this, Jim just groans and you feel like you can see the eyeroll from miles and miles away.

After a few moments, you lighten the tone in your voice a tiny bit. And ask about work. "... any news on the daughter?" Have you found her? Can you come back soon?

"Nope. Pretty sure she was never even here," Of course not. "but now Reba's got me helpin' 'em out with their damn store room. ... Have a feeling she's tryin' t' keep me away. Cant think why." The tone of sarcasm seeps out of the phone like gasoline, primed for a match.

You huff. Shake your head. "... fuck her." Enough!

Immediately a surprised laugh, full of disbelief rings out through the receiver. " -what was that now??"

"Come home, Jim. I don't care anymore." Really, you really don't. "Do you?? You know what- if you come home to me today, you can tell whoever you want about me." You say, and really mean it. You're tired of sneaking around. Its not fun anymore. You're - so - over it. Lowering your voice, you close your eyes. "... I don't care. Just come home."

A mechanical rumble plays on the other end of the phone, causing you to knit your eyebrows together. Confused. "-Hear that?"

"Hm? What is it???"

"Thats the truck. I'm on my way. All you had to do was ask, sweetheart, but I do appreciate the permission to tell everyone I know I'm havin' a side of fresh meat every night~ "

"Oh, god." Thats terrible!! Not all the distance and the missing him in the world will stop you from cringing over that- But then you smile, straightening up; every cell in your body buzzing at the prospect of seeing him in a few hours, anyway. "But hurry up." -Wait, he'll take that too seriously- "Drive safe!, though."

"Err, aint I always safe??"

"Oh yeah, Jim O-H-and-S Bickerman; thats you." He chuckles at that. "See you soon." With a final, insurmountable smile, you shake your head and hang up.

When you get back to the auditorium, the professor's gone quiet- letting everyone finish some private study for a bit. You grab your bag, foreseeing absolutely zero chance of getting any work done for the rest of the day, and turn to leave and wait at Jim's place- when a clammy hand grips your wrist and pulls you back. And suddenly, ice fills up your veins. "Hey! Where are you going now, huh??"

The smile wipes clean off your face. "Owen, let go."

"Not until you tell me where you're going, sweetheart." The smirk on his face ignites a fire in you, and not the good kind. A scowl and some dark clouds wander across your face. Sweetheart???!

"Owen, let me go." With that, you twist your wrist and disentangle your limb from his grip. Then get an idea, pulling your book bag over your head, lowering your voice. "For your information- Jim's coming home today and I'm going to meet him. I think you know who that is, I don't need to spell it out for you." Carefully, you slip your hair out from under the strap of your bag. "So congratulations, you were right- but lets get one thing straight here." Your voice turns to venom, a terrible glare in your eyes when you glance at Owen; looking pale. "We weren't fucking. But then you sent him away for a month, so who knows now? Chew on that."

With a final glower at the guy, one you learnt from the scariest person you know, you turn and leave the auditorium without another word.

By the time he got back to his house, for the first time in a month, its past 11 at night (Goddamn traffic. Felt like every damn intersection had construction bein' done. And everyone, and their grandma, needed to cross 'em right then.) So when he finally fits the key into the lock and slips inside, clicking the door closed behind himself, you're curled up on the old couch with the TV playing some bad snake flick on Netflix- asleep.

Jim doesn't even bother to take off his rain-drenched jacket before coming up on the couch and sitting down next to you- after all, maybe he'll let his sweetie pie do that part, he figures with a big grin. After switching off the TV with the remote he's able to finagle gently out of your grasp without waking you up (His darlin's so sleepy. Almost a shame to wake 'em up. Almost.), he curls a strand of your hair around a finger and tugs a couple times. "Wakey wakey~ "

You wake up pretty easily, having only been dozing (You were trying SO. HARD. to stay awake!!), you open your eyes just a crack- then open them wide and sit up as you come back to reality and realise He's Back. "-Oh! Shoot- I fell asleep?? Um- " You look around, giving a sniff and rubbing your eyes. "Um... house sitting went well?? You don't have any plants to keep alive, but uh- I managed to reset some of the traps outside, an- " What are you saying??

Thank god Jim stops you from waffling any further, because jesus christ. "Real happy to hear that, sugar, but d'ya know what I'm really wantin' to hear now??"

"... " you try to keep a straight face, but you know what's coming. A hesitant grin spreads across your face. "Oh lord, what?"

That sleazy grin you missed spreads slowly across his face. "How much you missed me."

Immediately you scoff, shaking your head, even with the grin. "-Oh I think you heard plenty of that already, sheriff." Casually, like it hadn't been a month since you so much as saw this man, you crawl over into Jim's lap and ring your arms up around his neck. "How about how much you missed me, huh old man?"

The growl in his hum is embarrassingly hot to you, and a hundred times better in person- not that you'd ever tell him that. "Hmm... " Seeing you right back where he liked you to be, in his lap rather then in fucken selfies he cant even fold up and keep in his pocket, made being home again Official. And gave him all kindsa ideas, too. "How about I show ya?"

... -For a moment you hesitate, frozen in place. Because you're not a dummy. Because you know what older men want with younger women. And because you are not deluded into thinking that Jim Bickerman is any better.

But god do you like him. And you weren't lying when you told Owen things had changed in a month- namely your power to resist.

And you think he likes you, too.

Hmm. "How... um," You clear your throat, skin hot. "how about you drive me to the ice cream place- the one open late on the highway?? You, uh, you could show me that way?"

Immediately Jim grins and gives a nod. "Sure, sweetheart. Just lemme get a dryer jacket. Meetcha at the truck, huh?- "

His face didn't even fall a bit when you suggested ice cream instead of sex. "Oh for fucks sake." You don't move an inch from his lap, despite the cold rain off his - yes, indeed, soaked jacket, - dampening your clothes and seeping into your skin. He likes you, he likes you, he likes you. Instead, you draw him down and kiss him.

The kiss becomes heated fast- 6 months with a person you really like without fucking it out plus an extra month without them at all, will do that to two people you'll find.

He pulls back first- but not by much. You can feel his breath on your lips as you open your eyes a crack- then open them fully at the shit eating grin on his face. "Now, darlin', I promise, I'll be gentle with ya. Alright?"

With a snort, you prod him in the forehead- gently. "Who says I've never done this before, huh?? You think that just because I haven't done it with you?"

With a scrunched up nose and a grimace-grin, he nods. "Well- Uhuh."

You would be annoyed at him, but you cant. Not right now, comfortably strewn over his lap, his hat askew tilted up and within kissing distance. So you try to curb the grin on your face, but its a terrible battle. Really more of a thumb wrestle then anything else. And not a fair one, either- "Oh shut up."

There's a very, dangerously lustful look on the old man's face. Smirk and all. You don't know exactly how long its been since he got any action, but by the looks of THAT- that look pawing at you, wandering all over you; inappropriate and wicked and perverted, inspiring hot shame, - it has to have been a while. "... Lemme get ya all warmed up, huh?"

Clearing your throat, you find yourself tucking hair behind your ear, feeling a little awkward and nervous, and young, being on top of him right now. Being looked at like That. Like exactly what he said before; fresh meat. Like a naked woman at a club, or out of a magazine, a bad video, a really good dream- Like he's starving and you're a four course meal. Except the growl in Jim's voice isn't coming from his stomach, its coming from the very back of his throat. "What do you me- Oh."

What he means becomes abundantly clear when he shows his teeth in the smirk suddenly like a big bad wolf baring his fangs, and undoes the button on your jeans. With his eagerness he doesn't bother pulling down the zip, it comes apart on its own when he digs his hand in between the seam and your very thin underwear. He doesn't bother to tease here, either- getting a good feel of you and making you choke on a gasp (or a moan?? It was a little bit of both.) with his boldness. You cover your mouth to muffle the sound, surprised at both him for suddenly touching you after all this time, and yourself for making tHAT EMBARRASSING, DESPERATE SOUND-

You should not have liked that so much. You should not be so turned on already.

Oh shit.

What the fuck with this man.

Jim chuckles at you. "Now now, sugar, don't be like that." He teases, still with that wolfish grin. "No hidin' from ol' Jimmy, hm?"

Carefully you pull your hand away from your mouth, but only halfway. Its hard to speak with the mans hand still under your throbbing cunt and seeing the absolute glee in his eyes showing his cards- he's absolutely loving every second of it; Having his cute lil sweethearts no doubt even sweeter pussy right in the palm of his hand hot and leaking and ready to go. "But- "

"Uh uh, no but's. Hand down. Now." The growl in his voice again, the steel in his expression, his forces you to do what you're told. Transferring both your hands to his still rain-damp shoulders, rolling your eyes.

"Damn, yes sir."

... there's no secret he loves that cute 'sir' business, but he sees directly through your fake bravado and gives a taunting grin instead of praising the shit out of you for it, rolling his pointer finger over your clit. Immediately your face drops, your jaw falling because it feels so good. You can see building up a gentle orgasm from this alone and he hasn't even directly touched you yet.

Your brain foggy, you manage to think to yourself who even knew that Jim Bickerman knew where the fucking clitoris was!? That was not... that was not on... not on your bingo card... Without thinking, you'd begun slowly rolling your hips with the feeling; eyes closed, the leather of his jacket pinched under your fingers, his most wicked grin watching you look so damn pretty in his lap; lettin' him touch you like this. Damn, what a good girl.

When he creeps his hand under the waistband of your underwear finally, coating his fingertips in your dripping slick, you almost snap a hand over your mouth; that embarrassing noise breaking free again. But instead you remember what he said immediately, his voice that you love so much echoing in your head like you're a well trained animal. Instead you lower your face into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around neck, hiding in his wet jacket that still smells of campfire smoke from his hunting days, and fresh rain.

He doesn't seem to mind the loophole, too focused on the feeling of his fingers disappearing inside a pretty girl once again; a sleazy grin on his mouth. That never gets old.

He seems to not mind also because you slip your hand into the kinky grey hair at the back of his head, knot your fingers in and gently squeezing at the sensation of being filled up so nicely. When he lets out a groan, you give a wicked grin of your own, buried against his shoulder. He likes his hair pulled; hmmm, you can work with that.

Another slow, gentle pull along with his languid thrusts (Just enjoying himself) and Jim has to break the peaceful silence, making you giggle.

"Careful there, pumpkin. Fuck with daddy too hard and I'll show ya who's really the boss 'ere."

A big grin teasing on your face, you rise and sit up straight, looking cheeky at him. There's silent laughter in your grin, even with the loveliest orgasm building up high in the pit on your stomach. So close. The knot so tight. Made tighter looking at him again; the glimpse of his hand in your jeans, or at least his wrist disappearing. "Oh go ahead, daddy, show me then."

"Don't you worry, I will."

As if just to prove to you he's got a million and one tricks up his sleeve to show you now, he takes that opportunity to, while you're looking right at him in the face so he can see the change in your eyes, take his thumb to your clit again and abuse it- breaking you in an instant, turning that sweet leisurely orgasm into an explosive climax instead that wipes the grin right off your face.

"... there. That what you were askin' for, sweetheart?"

The after waves ripple through you and a, admittedly, dumb smile flickers across your heated face. You run a hand through your hair, while he slips his hand out of your pants and gives an appreciative smile to the wetness all over his fingers. He gives you a peace sign and a cute, dumb grin of his own.

You grab his wrist. "... you think you're up for a little more, mr sheriff?"

"... darlin its been 7 months I've been thinkin' about this, what do you think??"

With a snort and a nod, like yeah I know, me too, you lean in and get another kiss from him.

#Jim Bickerman x Reader Oneshot #Jim Bickerman x Reader #Jim Bickerman #Oneshot #Smut

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