#every time I'm tagged in one of these I get giddy (this is only my second time but still)

[yoyokoolaid]

thanks for tagging me @bobsfic ILY. Post 6 sentences of an upcoming WIP and tag 6 people to do the same!

this is from my 5+1 jiara week fic! I tried gathering the least spoilery sentences possible lmao (also thought it would be fun if each sentence was from a different one of the six parts :))

She doesn’t answer right away, instead lingering near the produce section and trying to remember if they need any onions. At her ear, John B is a staticky buzz of annoyance. “So, you’ll get one?”

His mom leaves for work, just like she always does, but not before closing his fist around a pendant, which is a fancy word for what goes on necklaces, curling her fingers over his tight.

It’s a different house this time, a different day, but that rotten old fear creeping up his chest in weaving lines is just the same.

Her laugh, as he reaches for a pillow to hit her with, is a bright and soft thing in equal measure. it reaches into his chest and tugs, a warm and all-encompassing vice. 

“It’ll be okay.” her fingers brush against the nape of his neck, other hand reaching for the space between his brows, easing the furrows buried there gently.  

that was definitely at least 7 sentences. ooopsskjghsd.

I’m tagging @jojameswinter @somewhere2start @eye-of-the-storm @cowboylikebrii @yellowlaboratory @dayas (I sincerely apologise if you've already been tagged <3)

[svdwlover]

AFTER SUN, drew starkey

pairing: loveisland!reader x drew starkey, smau & rl

warnings: suggestive jokes (?), language, mentions of alcohol, breakdowns, cheating (?) and drama

content: fluff & angst

This summer the heat and hearts were risen up by Love Island US, season 6, and also by one of the main cast members, Y/n, also known as 'the posh girl', 'dolly' or ‘barbie’ of the island by the public, gaining the hearts of many and becoming a fan favorite. Y/n was introduced from the very beginning, getting coupled up with Kendall. Her man-eater, fierce and irresistible personality combined with Kendall's goofy and extroverted personality made them one of the favorite couples of the villa, resembling the 'sun and moon' trope. But like every other relationship in the villa they had their bumps and end, specially with the bombshells. With the arrival of two new bombshells, Nicole and Andrea, one girl was set to be single, and unfortunately it was her as Kendall decided to re-couple with Nicole. Luckily for her she had a big fan back in her hometown, and it was no other than Drew Starkey. He had been binge watching the show on set breaks and our lovely Y/n managed to capture his heart with her bold but sweet personality, even though the nail in the coffin was when she said "Shut up when I'm speaking to you" when talking to Connor on how he did her girl JaNa dirty. He just loved how she stood up for herself and for her girl! Now she's back home and being tagged on multiple videos of Drew talking about his latest obsession being Love Island and how his favorite contestant was Y/n, and how sad he was to see her leave as he was expecting to see more of her. So what will happen when she decides to just say 'fuck it' and drunkly slide into Drew's dm with a witty remark that makes him all giddy as his all time favorite (love island) girl decided to pull a move before he did. Will Y/n be able to find her one true love outside the villa? Will Drew regret dating a reality TV star? Only time can tell.

Episodes

chapter one , chapter two

Extras

profiles

a/n: eeek! this is my first post ever and im so exited, ever since re-watching love island us and uk I've been dying to make a smau based on it. y/n is deeply inspired by grace, and yes, she did replace hanna in this fic but its just for the plot line! plus I wanted her to be friends with ppg, liv & kaylor once they got of the island as the smau is based right after she leaves (episode 10.)

if you want to be added to the tag list just comment ♡

[spicycinnabun]

SO excited for the results of this make me write. It was so hard to decide and I wish I could do them all but I think I will ask for 🤖🤖🤖 or ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 whichever you get less of 🥰

I've got about six other beep boop asks in the queue lol, so I'm going to go with ❤️‍🩹! Let's rewind to before the break-up. c:

♡

They were cuddling on Tommy’s couch. Tommy was behind him, hands resting protectively on Buck’s belly. He had been doing that a lot lately—holding him there, touching him there. Buck wasn’t sure if Tommy was aware he kept doing it.

Buck hadn't said anything. He didn’t want to call attention to it and risk having Tommy stop. Because he liked it. Okay, more than just liked it. His body was sending him strong signals about what the Alpha wanted, and it was making him a little stupid with need.

His heart sped up.

Of course, Tommy noticed. One of his hands started rubbing in a hypnotic, circular motion. “What's up?”

“I-I’ve been thinking,” Buck started, trying not to get distracted by the petting. His eyes closed. “I’d like to spend my next heat with you.”

“Oh?” Tommy said, after a small intake of breath Buck couldn’t really decipher.

He didn't say anything else, waiting for Buck to elaborate on his thoughts.

Buck had never enjoyed his heats. Dreaded them because of how desperate they made him, among other undesirable attributes, but maybe it would be different with Tommy. Every time they’d gotten hot and heavy with each other, it was so good, an intense burn that kept building.

Buck was used to being a service omega, but with Tommy, he hadn't fallen into that role. He didn't feel like a wind-up toy, only good for one use, one purpose. His world had been shaken and turned upside down. He actually felt kind of giddy, for once.

“Y-you said I could set the pace, but I also don’t want to pressure you,” Buck continued. “If you’re not ready yet or don’t want to, that’s totally fine. Or if we get to the middle of things and you decide it’s too much—t-that I’m too much—you don’t have to stay.”

That already went unspoken, but Buck wanted to assure Tommy that he had an out. He wasn’t stuck with Buck if he got too whiny, too needy, too clingy. Like he always did.

Tommy’s grip on him had gone slack. He was silent for so long Buck had to sit up and turn around. Tommy looked… kind of horrified, actually.

Buck’s stomach twisted. That was definitely not the reaction he’d been hoping for.

He backtracked. “O-or! Secret third option: We can forget this conversation ever happened and go on a fun date after my cycle is over. I was looking at this new sushi place the other day that has—”

“No.” Tommy let out a slow breath, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I’m just still trying to process what you said. You think I would leave you in the middle of your heat? That's ludicrous, Evan. Even if, for whatever reason, I couldn’t continue, I wouldn’t abandon any omega like that.” Tommy tilted Buck's chin up gently, eyes filled with sincerity. “Especially not my omega. Have past partners done that to you?”

“Uh.” Buck swallowed hard, feeling suddenly very off-kilter and overwhelmed. “Yes? I’m… you know, a l-lot to handle. D-difficult. E-e-exhausting. It’s okay.”

“Oh, it is so far from okay,” Tommy said. His scent had changed, no longer relaxed. Filling the air with an edge of bitter anger he was trying to keep at bay.

Buck didn’t know what to do, so he followed his instincts and hugged his Alpha. Tommy's tension released. He hugged Buck back. They nuzzled each other, Buck focusing on Tommy's scent gland.

“And now you’re comforting me,” Tommy added with a weak chuckle of disbelief.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Buck murmured, burying his nose in Tommy’s shoulder and kissing it.

“I’m upset for you, Evan. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. You're none of those things.” Buck made an involuntary sound, and Tommy squeezed him. “I’m going to take care of you, okay? I’m going to show you what a heat is supposed to be like.”

♡

tag list: @chococara25 @lemon-drop151 @bidisasterevankinard @cannibalhellhound @theallyandhisbeast @loulou-land @harmonic-intervention @manifestingchaoticvibes @notacyborg @tedious-waffle @ginny-lala @figuringitoutaloud @monstertrucksactually @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @know1udno @styxhuntress @all-the-feels @perfectlyhopefulruins @espressopatronum454

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 6

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: mondayyyyyy

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

“Captain wants you nice and clean,” Steve says as he removes the cuffs from your wrists. You’re as good as vibrating with excitement. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with the sergeant.” 

“Yes, Captain,” you breathe. 

His lips curve, only slightly, and his cheek dimples. He grabs your arm and walks you down to the bathroom. He nudges you through the door. 

“Don’t come out until I say so.” 

“Captain,” you face him. “I’m not afraid of Bucky. You don’t have to--” 

“He’s done enough,” Steve gently pushes your further in. “Now, let’s get rule one out of the way. When I give you an order, you do it. No arguments.” 

You blink, “Yes, Cap--” 

The door snaps shut before you can finish. You stare at it for a moment. Your natural stubbornness is at odds with the glee of your victory. It’s kinky, isn’t it? Steve giving you orders. The way he’ll use you like an object. That’s everything you’ve dreamt of and more. 

What makes you even wetter is that Bucky lost. Fuck him. That guy has an inferiority complex the size of his ego. 

You sigh and turn around. Is this how women feel when they’re giddy? Are you swooning? 

You turn on the bath and let the water pour out into the porcelain. Would Steve fuck you in here? You would like him to break you against every surface of this place before all is done and said. And what does that entail? You’re not that worried. You’ll die happy if that’s what it comes to. 

You lower yourself into the hot water. As soothing as it is, it only underlines all the damage Bucky’s done to you. Nothing you can’t handle but still. That fucker has issues. 

You hear his return. His voice irks you. Puts the tension back into your muscles. You should be so bothered by the Winter Prick but he really is annoying. If you cared, you might ask Steve why he even bothers with the rabid dog. 

You close your eyes as their voices come closer, their footfalls too. 

“Buck, please, I gotta clean all this up--” 

“Steve, you’re making a mistake. She’s a criminal--” 

“I’ll deal with her.” 

“How?” 

Silence. 

“How?” Bucky repeats. 

“She’s my problem, Buck.” 

“Pfft, sure. You’re not really going to do this, are you? She’s of her fucking skull. She’s been breaking in. Do you know what she did in your bed?” 

“Yeah, I do, pal,” Steve counters. “And I'm gonna do worse to her. So go. You’re done here.” 

“Steve--” 

“Buck. I asked you to water the plants. Look at that ficus? It’s about to die.” 

Bucky sighs. You know it’s him because he’s so damn pathetic. There’s a thump then a clamour of steps. The front door slams and Steve chuckles. 

You stir the water and smile to yourself. You’re not one of those dreamy girls, wishing the captain would save you, but it doesn’t feel too bad. It makes you a little tingly to have him send away that idiot. All for you? 

There’s a tap at the door, “almost done in there?” 

“Yes, Captain,” you preen back as you sit forward. Shit, time to make yourself human. 

“Ten minutes. I want you waiting.” 

“Yes, Captain,” you echo. 

You are thorough in your scrubbing. You feel tainted. More than usual. Fucking asshole had his hands all over you. You clench at the thought of what he was about to do when Steve walked in. Stop that. 

You pull the plug and stand. You dry yourself off on the mat. The door swings open. You flinch, startled at Steve’s sudden entrance. 

“Let’s go. Time to get your uniform on.” He says. 

You squint. What does he mean? Well, whatever he wants. Maybe he’s into some freaky ass roleplay. You could be the cadet and he’s the captain... 

He points you down the hall, back to the front room. You almost sigh in disappointment. You’d prefer the bedroom. Still, if he wants to fuck you on the couch like one his sluts, you’ll go for that. 

You slow as you look around the apartment. It’s still a mess. You suppose it will take some time to restore it to its previous tidy perfection. 

“On the table.” He says. 

You think he’s ordering you onto the table and a thrill flows over you. As you follow his command, you’re disappointed. You find a pile of clothes waiting for you. Not a military uniform, something worse. You sift through them; a dress, stockings, satin and lace lingerie. Heels! 

“The hell is this?” You mutter. 

“When you address me, you will speak clearly.” He looms behind you. “And you will speak to me with respect.” 

You hesitate but shrug. 

“Stand up straight. Ladies don’t slouch.” 

You turn to look at him as you hold the flimsy underwear. He tilts his head as his hands go to his hips. His eyes are icy. It’s hot but the context is lacking. You don’t want to dress up like some fucking lady. 

“And they smile,” he warns. 

You stare at him. Alright, this is actually getting weird. And that’s you saying so. 

“You know what, I’m not sure--” 

“Rule one,” he marches at you.  

“Ah, jeez,” you drop the underwear as he seizes you. He twists you around and bends you over the table. You purr. “Oh, Captain, that’s what I’m talking about.” 

He huffs and swipes up the underwear. He leads one of your feet through, then the other. He rips them up and jerks you away from the table. He swats your ass with a growl. 

“Get dressed. Now.” 

You push yourself up slowly and grimace at the wall.  

“Yes, Captain.” You mutter. 

“I can’t hear you,” he cuffs your head. Alright, you’re starting to get pissed. 

“Yes. Captain.” You enunciate. 

You hook the bra around you. Really? You’re a sports bra enthusiast. This is a ledge. Your tits are going to spill out at any moment. 

You ignore the garters and reach for the dress. He tuts, “everything.” 

You roll your eyes at the wall. You don’t know. You’ve never put this shit on. Garter belt first, then the stockings. He sighs again and clips the lacy tips himself. Christ. 

You grab the dress and pull it on. Not much better. The dress is shorter than you like despite looking like an old lady’s. You face Steve and shrug. He steps forward and ties the strings by the collar in a bow. You miss your tee and jeans. 

He points to the shoes and you put them on. They are too small. Not to mention too high. 

“Perfect, now, I’ll have to get you some makeup and probably some hair pins but you’re already looking better,” he grins and squeezes your arms. “You’re all ready.” 

“Oh yeah?” You perk up and reach for his chest. He draws away. You drop your hands in disappointment. 

“Yep. Better get to work,” he looks at the chair and the tarp and everything else. You cross your arms and curl your lip. 

“You want me to... clean this up?” 

“You’re questioning me again,” he puts his hands on his hips as he faces you. “You made this mess.” 

“What-- no, Bucky--” 

“You broke in, sweetheart. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? To be Cap’s best girl?” 

You nearly gag. That’s nasty. Still, you figure you can play along if it gets you a little something. Your eyes stray down to his pants. You never expected to get this close, can’t blow it now. You only want to blow him. 

You wobble around on the heels. It’s ridiculous. You start by folding the tarp. You’re sure to keep as much of the mess on it as you can. You drag it to the bathroom to dump in the tub. Ugh. 

“I told you to smile,” Steve says. 

You look back as he fills the doorway. You force a smile and go back to rinse off the plastic. You fold it up and carry it out. Then you start on the front room. God, Bucky is ruining your good time even when he’s not here. 

You’re not stickler. Your apartment is a shithole so you don’t put much into keeping it tidy.  You get all the clutter up and look around. 

“You’re not done,” he scoffs, looming. “Well?” 

“Yes, Captain.” 

“The couch. Fix the blanket, fluff the pillows. Still got sweeping, mopping, dusting, vacuuming...” he lists off the exhaustive list of bullshit. 

The only thing that keeps you from snapping it the promise of him. You get through this and the Captain will have better orders. Maybe you can get down on your knees and polish something else. 

Sweat forms on your brow as you go through it all. You take a break, leaning on the mop, and tug at the collar of the dress. It’s damn hot. 

You look over as Steve tilts his head, watching you as he leans in the doorframe. His hand is on his crotch. Now that’s what you’re talking about. You smirk and his brow arches. 

He turns and marches away. What now? Can’t he just get to it? Bucky got you all worked up and now-- 

No, you don’t want Bucky.  

Steve comes back. He has something else in hand. He unfolds it. 

“Put this on, honey.” 

You rest the mop against the wall and take the apron. You tie it on as you stare at him. “Sure I can’t do anything else? Hm?” 

“Maybe, keep going,” he insists. 

You hide your chagrin as you snatch the mop. You go back to your cleaning. Friggin bullshit but you expected worse. You expected to be choked out by now. 

You sense him following you. He’s like a drill sergeant. He points out when you miss a spot and makes you go back over what you didn’t do right. You sneer at the floor as his shadow trails you around. 

All at once, he’s in front of you. You’re surprised to find his dick above his pants. You stop as he pumps himself furiously. He spills onto the floor in front of the sponge mop and you back up. He grunts and groans in his release. 

Is he cumming all over your clean floor? Better yet, cumming over you cleaning his apartment dressed like some oppressed housewife? He’s fucking weird. 

“Goddamn, you look so good in that dress,” he puffs as he lets go of his dick, his hand shiny with cum. 

His lashes flick open. You grip the mop and stare. He glances at his hand and back to you. 

“Well, clean it up,” he holds out his slimy palm. 

You squint then look around. You take a step and he clucks. 

“Nope,” he shoves his hand toward your face. “Clean it. With your mouth.” 

You cringe and he brings his other hand up to flick your ear. You flinch and whimper, “ow.” 

“Captain says clean it up.” 

“Yes, Captain,” you grit out. 

You lean in and brace yourself. You stick your tongue out and drag it through the salty, sticky smear. It’s hot when you think of it but still sickening. You’re a freak. You always wanted to taste him but you hoped it wouldn’t be from him playing with himself. You’d prefer maybe some yourself. 

Before you can get all of it, he covers your face with his hand. You jerk back but can’t pull away. His other hand wraps around your head and he wipes his cum all over your face. He pulls you close as he drags his touch down to your neck. 

“Take the dress off.” 

He lets you go. You chew on the order before you eke out the response. “Yes, Captain.” 

You peel off the dress. He swipes it away. You go to wipe your face and he snaps his fingers. 

“Leave it. You’re not done.” 

He grabs the mop and holds it out to you. You take it reticently. You swallow down your protest. Just be cool. You can do this. He’s working up to it. It’s foreplay. 

As you wash the floor, you flash back to the videos. Those nights of you watching. Him rutting behind a woman as she clings to the couch. Smacking her ass as he threatens to break her back. Only this time, it’s you. 

“Good job,” he praises. “Now, time for breakfast.” 

You nod and he stares. You search his face. “Oh, you mean... me?” 

“Well, what else is a woman for?” He nears and taps your cheek. “Bacon, egg whites, and rye toast, sweetheart.” 

He takes the mop and marches away. You look around the apartment. Nice and tidy. At great effort too. 

You slowly cross the room and enter the kitchen. You’re no cook. You throw ramen in a bowl and add water or eat yogurt straight from the container. This is fucked. 

You go to the fridge and open the doors. Hm. Where to start. You take out the eggs. 

“You gonna ask me how I want my eggs?” Steve appears in the kitchen door. 

“Yes, Captain, how do you want your eggs?” 

“Omelet. Remember, white only.” 

“Captain,” you flip open the carton. 

“You should start the bacon first. Eggs cook fast.” 

“Right.” 

He sucks his teeth, “you should be able to figure this out, sweetheart. It’s in your blood.” 

You look at him and scrunch up your nose and eye brows. 

“Smile,” he orders again. “Don’t make me tell you again.” 

[fandomnerd9602]

Six Months

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Your doe, your mate, had been secretive lately. Wanda was spending time alone, away from you. If you tried to enter her room, she would lock the door. If you wanted to spend an evening with her, she would run away.

“Not yet!” She would say. Her voice carried a little bit of giddiness but still you found it odd.

You and her were approaching your six month anniversary. Six glorious months of being mates. True most of it was still spent cuddling and watching movies together, neither of you were ready for anything else. But still it was glorious.

You woke up on the actual date with a smile on your face. Your plan was ready. You bolted into the kitchen in the early morning hours.

Wanda walked out of her room to the fresh smell of chocolate chip pancakes.

"Are those for me, detka?" she asks inquisitively. You hand her a stack of pancakes and give her a kiss to the cheek.

"Happy six month anniversary, my doe" you smile at her.

"Detka" she giggles.

"One more thing!" you rush into your room and pull out a small deer plushie, bringing it back to your doe like a kid on Christmas.

Wanda gasps, it was beautiful in her eyes. The fur was the same color as her hair. The antlers were shaped just like hers and the eyes were an exact match of hers. "It's like me in plushie!" she exclaims, "I love it!"

She hugs you tight and kisses your jaw. You loved her jaw kisses.

"I have a surprise for you too," she explains, "but only tonight, ok?"

"oh alright" you say playfully before you each strolled off to your rooms to go and get ready for the day.

Within the hour, Wanda was happily skipping the halls of the sanctuary. Her best wolf pal Natasha came up to her, "so did you do it yet?"

"No not yet." Wanda answers, "I'm waiting for the evening. Thanks again for helping me"

"What are pals for?" Natasha gives a little wink, "just let me know how it goes"

Wanda walked into your office with a mischievous little stride. "You're not getting a peep out of me" she states with her arms crossed.

"I'm sure whatever it is, I'm gonna love it" you give her forehead a little kiss. You pull out two PB&J sandwiches and hand one to her. The two of you playfully clink your sandwiches together and take a bite.

The day ended and so came the evening. You and Wanda ordered takeout and watched a few episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show, Wanda's favorite show.

"I'm ready" she states as her favorite episode ends.

"Oh?"

"Just stay here" she says with a little smile before walking into her room. Wanda walks out holding her guitar, looking at you sheepishly. “This was my surprise for you” she steadies her guitar and begins strumming it.

I'll be your candle on the water,

My love for you will always burn.

I know you're lost and drifting

But the clouds are lifting.

Don't give up, you have somewhere to turn.

You couldn’t help but begin to tear up a little. She looked so serene as she strummed her guitar and sung.

I'll be your candle on the water,

'Till every wave is warm and bright.

My soul is there beside you,

Let this candle guide you.

Soon you'll see a golden stream of light.

The soft flicker of the Edison bulbs in your apartment illuminating her face, it just looked so serene.

Look for me, reaching out to show,

As sure as rivers flow,

I'll never let you go.

I'll never let you go.

I'll never let you go...

She brought the song to a close. You got up and walked over to her. You knelt before your doe, cupping her face in your hands.

You touched your forehead to hers. “I’ll never let you go, my amazing doe”

“Happy anniversary, my love” she giggles.

Year or two later, you found your doe gently singing that same song to your sleeping infant daughter. You just stood in the doorway listening with the same awe as you did the first time.

Your doe, Wanda Maximoff, the love of your life and keeper of your heart.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @revanshand @russianredassassin @aloneodi @julieromanoff @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[radio-writes]

Keep All Your Worries Aside

Alastor on his partner's birthday - Headcanons

Warnings: implied power imbalance, slight manipulation

Tags: Alastor x reader, gn reader, fluff, self indulgent as hell

MDNI

Alastor used to adore birthdays when he was alive. It was the perfect time to get to know people; friends and targets alike.

He also got the chance to earn the person's favor, which was never a downside to him. He never knew when it would be useful to have those people on his side, after all.

Whenever he had partners in his lifetime, whether just for show or out of genuine care for their company, he spoiled the ever living heart out of them. Dinner, gifts, dancing, his absolute undivided attention—whatever they wanted and more he made sure to give it all to them.

It was unconsciously an addicting habit for him. He loved the way it made them so happy. How he knew he was the cause of their smiles and hence could just take it away any time he wanted to. How it made them so thankful to get to spend such a special time with him.

After he died, however, the excitement over birthdays was all but left behind in the mortal part of his existence.

Alastor didn't see the point of celebrating a birthday, specially when in Hell. After all, he was hard pressed to even find anyone that was happy about being born into this world, only to be stuck in such a miserable cesspool in the end.

And besides, not a lot of wandering souls even revealed that much of themselves anymore. Something as personal as a birthday was often kept a secret, in fear of it being used against them somehow.

Perhaps, sarcastically, he has brought up the idea here and there. If he knew it brought some sort of anguish or misery to some lowly sinner, why wouldn't he? 

But when it was his darling partner who just openly shared such information with him? Oh, he just couldn't help but to be interested.

Such a little act showed how much they trusted him, and he couldn't just let that go unpaid, could he? It would mean he would owe them, after all.

Alastor found that his old habits came back a lot faster than he expected them to. He found himself dragging his darling out all around the pentagram—whether they wanted to go or not—showing them off, showing them the sights, showing them a generally great time with his arm looped around theirs.

He bought every single thing they even glanced at, but he didn't dare burden their arms with holding it all. No, he had his shadow creatures trailing behind, carrying all his gifts for them.

Couldn't he just simply bring them into their room at the hotel? Of course! Easily so with a snap of his fingers. But that wouldn't be as fun as getting to show off just how well he could provide for his partner.

It's only when his dear finally asked him to ease up on the fanfare—they feared the trail of shadows would cause a traffic accident at this point—did Alastor finally stop and just transported their gifts to the hotel.

He took them out dancing, shopping, drinking. Always had a hand on them no matter what, to keep them close.

He found that old giddy feeling in his chest seeing his darling smile because of him—knowing he alone caused their happiness.

And when they thanked him at the end of it all? Said those oh so humble words

"I have no idea how to repay you for all of this."

Well, no one could blame him when his grin stretched just a tad bit wider. Eager, excited, thrilled. He hadn't exactly set out to earn any favors on their birthday, it was simply to pay back the trust they gave him.

But hey, he wouldn't turn down having his darling in debted to him. And he could certainly think of a few ways they could return the favor.

It is my birthday and if I say I want fluffy Al, I'm getting fluffy Al.

[lovelytsunoda]

birthday girl | mickey “fanboy” garcia

summary: used to feeling like an afterthought on her birthday (mostly due to its proximity with christmas), mickey sets out to make sure that his sweet lover girl feels treasured and loved

pairing: mickey “fanboy” garcia x female reader

warnings: 18+ content, 'birthday girl' is used in a sexual context, its part of smutmas so idk what yall are expecting but its gonna be smutty

author's note: i totally wasn't planning to write this about eddie rojas from season 3 of the lincoln lawyer before i realized that there was only one post in his tag and not a single gif of his adorable face-

birthdays were seldom easy for people unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on how you looked at it) enough to have their special day land in such close proximity to a major and widely celebrated holiday.

every year, her birthday felt like an afterthought. while her sister spent her birthday with friends, or going out to dinner, her birthday was spent doing housework and preparing the house for when family came over the celebrate christmas eve the following day.

all of that changed when she met mickey garcia.

mickey went out of his way to make sure that she felt loved and cherished on her birthday, and for the first time in a long time, her birthday didn't feel so lonely.

the spent the day out on the town, starting with the christmas market and village, stopping for pictures with all the brightly lit trees. (technically, they started with breakfast in bed, where y/n was presented with a hardback copy of a new book she had been wanting to read, and a silver bracelet that she swore never to take off, but who was keeping track?) and ended with dinner at her favourite italian restaurant. after the meal, the waiter brought out a chocolate cake with 'happy birthday, mi vida', and she almost wept with joy.

she didn't want the night to end, and it would appear that mickey didn't intend to let it end so early himself, a giddy smile on his face as he led her towards the bedroom.

"do you remember when we watched fifty shades of gray and i was slightly drunk and asked what would be in your sex room if you had one?"

"you were more than a little drunk, mickey." she giggled. "but yeah, i remember."

"and you said that all you needed was a soft bed, some massage oils and a few scented candles."

"and a record player."

"right, we can't forget the record player."

"mickey," she raised an eyebrow at him. "where are you going with this?"

mickey just laughed, shaking his head as he reached for the bedroom doorknob. "just you wait."

beyond the threshold, there was a path made of fake flower petals, in a soft blue tone, winding towards their double bed. on top of the bed, was a towel clumsily folded into the shape of a swan, and a shiny gold box. lofi music hummed away in the background, no doubt from the speaker connected to mickey's phone.

"every year we say we're going to get that record player, and we still haven't, so i had to improvise."

"mickey, this is incredible." she smiled, kissing him gently.

"all for you, birthday girl. now why don't you go sit on that bed and make yourself comfortable, while i make sure i have everything i need to make you feel your best."

she sat at the foot of the bed, leaning over to open the box, which was embossed with the logo for the body shop. as she was pulling the lid off the box, the speaker crackled behind her, the lofi soon replaced with george micheal's 1987 solo debut. inside the box, nestled among tissue paper, was an assortment of body butters and balms. she unscrewed the lid from one of the balms, taking a sniff of the pleasantly scented cream.

"still can't bring yourself to go into a sex shop, can you?"

mickey beamed at her, dropping to his knees by her feet, shoulders swaying in time with the music. "i'm a good catholic boy, remember? if my mother even got an inkling that i'd been to a sex shop, i'd end up buried under her flowerbeds. did i ever tell you about the time she found out i'd been to the back half of a spencer's? besides, i know you love the body shop, and i figured we'd get more use out of body butter."

humming along to the words in ‘faith’, mickey took one of her feet into his hands, kissing her ankle before he began to undo the strap on her black high heels. he repeated the motion with her other foot before he began to gently kiss and muzzle up her leg.

he pushed up the long skirt of her black dress before getting to his feet and reaching for the dish of body butter. he lathered up his hands, and she rested one foot over his heart, allowing him to massage the butter into her legs. his hands moved gently, working out the knots in her muscles.

“how you feeling, birthday girl?”

she sighed under his touch. “heavenly”

the higher that mickeys hands travelled, gently pushing the body butter into her skin, the more aroused she got. her chest filled with warmth, her panties growing damper as she thought about just how loved mickey made her feel.

he repeated the process with the other leg, balk soaking into her skin as she wrapped her legs around mickeys torso and pulled him in for a deep kiss. his hands caressed her sides, gently urging her back into the bed and diving underneath her dress.

“you’re so beautiful, birthday girl. I’m so damn lucky to call you mine.”

true to his word, mickey garcia spent that entire evening worshipping every square inch of her body: massaging her achy shoulders, sucking on her perky nipples, eating her out until she saw stars (twice!) before he even thought about sticking his dick in her.

their bodies were intertwined underneath the ikea duvet, her cheek against the pillow and mickeys chest warm and reassuring against her back as he rocked his hips against her, his heavy cock resting a pleasant, burning drag against her walls.

above her head, mickeys hands clutched hers against the pillows, his lush lips leaving open mouthed kissed along her neck and shoulders.

moaning harshly, she turned her head to kiss mickey, his hips spasming against her.

“you’re doing so well, birthday girl. you feel like a dream.” he whispered huskily before hoping at her earlobe. “I love making you feel good.”

“fuck, mickey. right there!” she arched underneath him, trying to roll her hips against him.

he was holding back, purposely going slower and trying to drag the night out. enjoying the moment instead of chasing a high.

he dropped her hands, arms coming around to hug her midsection, holding her close as his thrusts became deeper.

“I love you, pretty girl.” he groaned, biting into her shoulder. she whined under him, a noise his body all too desperately reacted to. “fuck, baby, you undo me.”

he could feel her walls clamping down around him, hear the breathy moans that meant she was getting closer to her peak. she reached for the back of mickeys head, tangling her hand in his hair and pulling down gently.

“fuck, baby, I’m so close. oh my god, I love you.”

“I love you more, birthday girl. te amo, mi vida.”

[acciocriativity]

-> When they reject you…

... but it wasn't a confession (WOOSAN version)

Genre: angst-ish, bittersweet endings, unrequited love (hard to say from each side tho)

Tags/ Warnings: angsty; bittersweet endings; implied bullying in San's part not done by him; implied body shame in San's part not done by him; San's a coward and don't do anything about it; i don't even now what to say about wooyoung's part, that's a warning?

WC: 1,4 k

N/A: I said that I'd make more of these and here they are (after 8 whole months, I'm so sorry). I didn't forget about the lovely people that loved the MATZ version, this is for you guys!

Please reblog my work if you enjoyed it, it helps to reach other people <3

MATZ Version

Ateez Masterlist

JEONG WOOYOUNG (정우영)

You heard the soft buzz of your phone on your beside table, yet the only thing you did was turn around and adjust the thick blanket under your chin. It was getting cold by the minute and a simple thought crossed your mind before you closed your eyes once again, maybe you should see him one last time.

If anyone told you a week ago that you’d be ignoring Wooyoung’s calls, you wouldn’t believe it, but here you are. You could’ve just block him for once and for all, but a little sick part within you liked to hear the proof of his neediness and desperation. Every call were the solid evidence that it wasn’t all in your head, in fact, he was the once who always seemed to cling to you.

The silence filled the room for barely five seconds, then the phone started ringing again.

You wish you could say you slept well that night, knowing that he wouldn’t leave any voicemails, that little prideful jerk. Instead, the same scene appeared over and over in your mind.

You still could feel his hands around your waist. He made it all so casual, natural and comfortable, like it was supposed to be that way between friends. However, you knew he only ever called you late at night, sometimes just to talk when he couldn’t fall asleep, others to beg you to come pick him up and somewhere in between those moments, he made you believe you were special to him. How special or in what way was a work in progress, you were unsure if his actions should worry you, if maybe it was more than friendly, until he made it all clear a week ago.

It was his birthday, so you did everything you could to make a memorable night, even baked the giant birthday cake yourself. Sometime after the loud music turned into background noise, he found you by the kitchen, then asked you to wait upstairs for him. His room was the only one locked in the entire house, so he left you with the key after sending one of his cheeky little winks your way. You still remember how giddy you felt, because you just received the perfect opportunity to give him that one watch he was thinking about buying it for months now.

The whole day you couldn’t really get a hold of him, something you can not blame Wooyoung of all people for, still, it was dangerously close to midnight. Was it too much to ask for some time with you best friend on his birthday? No, no it wasn’t. You weren’t asking for anything much than a simple conversation and a little bit of appreciation, something you were yet to hear from him. So you waited as much as your patience allowed.

Bu he didn’t show up.

And you knew exactly where he was, most likely having the time of his life surrounded by all your mutual friends, and you did love that about him. You’d always say that he was like your personal ray of sunshine, people like him would always have the spotlight and you also knew he enjoyed that very much. How can you wish something else for him on his day? You wish he had all the fun in the world and maybe share a bit with you as well.

So after waiting for fifteen minutes, you decided that you gave him enough grace already. Wooyoung could get lost in the moment sometimes, so you decided you were going to remind him in the pettiest way you could think of.

But none of that mattered when you laid eyes on him, standing at the bottom of the stairs. He held close one of your mutual closest friend, closer then you remembered them together before. They both were in a small circle by the wall, laughing at something he whispered. Were they a thing now? How did you not know? But there was a larger question taking all the space in your head. Is this how you look like beside him? You were used to the closeness, you enjoyed the intimacy, it could easily be you there right now.

Yet, it wasn’t you and it won’t be.

So why the hell can’t he accept that and deal with the consequences of his own actions? You were giving him what he asked for, space.

Still, he’s calling again.

CHOI SAN (최산)

The moment your existence intertwined with San’s back in college, it felt like people’s perception of you changed all of a sudden. You were nobody to most, then became somebody to him and as a consequence, someone to his friends and acquaintances. It would be fascinating to watch if it wasn’t your own life and if it wasn’t so freaking depressing. A frequent comment you’d hear was ‘how odd the two of you look next to each other’, and there was nothing you could do against a sly remark like that, specially when it comes from his so called friends, and you knew San always took that as a light joke about your differences in personalities.

You don’t remember how it happened, one day you sat beside him at the very back of a class you, so desperately, wanted to skip but couldn’t, the other day you both were attached to the hip. And how could you not? Never in you life you thought you’d describe a man as sweet, not with you at least, but there he was, every day, proving you wrong.

To be in the vicinity as someone like him was a once in a lifetime kind of experience, but to be his friend was another thing entirely. San was one of those people that can make you feel at the top of the world when he pays attention to you, the kind of person that truly seeks connection with those around him and when someone talks, he listens with all his body.

You tried to keep those pros in your mind, but more often than not you caught yourself pondering if it was still worth the headache after all those years, like right now.

You promised yourself you’d come to this stupid five-year college reunion, because otherwise San’d whine about it for a whole month, like you not coming would make him lonely somehow, like that was even a possibility.

Then, it started.

It always does one way or another.

This time was a “innocent joke” about how you glued yourself to San back in the day. They all laughed including yourself, you did not want to make a scene, you never do.

Then there was the stares at the two of you sitting beside each other. That was the funniest part for them, the simple thought that you could still have some hope for something to happen between the two of you to this day and age was hysterical. You could tell since the very start of your friendship what those people thought about you and what your place should be.

Maybe if you ever felt anything towards San in that way, it’d hurt you deeply, but you didn’t and still don’t, so it just pisses you off to no end. However, you don’t have the courage to bring it up and perhaps you should’ve done then, but now you barely see any of them, so what is it one more day?

“You’re good?”, he leaned towards you and his hands caressed your lower arm like it was second nature to him.

You nodded, then whispered as you grabbed your purse, “I’ll be back in a minute”.

It was a long walk to the nearest bathroom, outside of the gymnasium, long enough to calm yourself down and to think clearly.

All the while San was downing a drink after the other, laughing at something he barely heard from across the big table of 9 he was in. Red in the face, coughing like crazy in the middle of the chaos, he did not see you walking up to him.

“What?”, he asked the third time, leaning in to hear his friend better.

“Just admit it already, do you like her, don’t you?”

It took him a few seconds to figure it out what that was about, then a flash of you came into his mind and the recognition on his face was clear to them all. He sobered up quick and sat upright, putting his body weight on top of the table.

You don’t hear what the answer was and you don’t need to. Their laughter, his laughter, echoed in between the song change.

So maybe he wasn’t that innocent after all.

Taglist: @h3arteyes4mingi

[vivalas-vega]

fine line / part one

look at me trying new things !!! dipping my toe into a new fandom - long time lurker, first time contributor. first four parts are written, I just wanted to get this out and get some feelers and feedback. this is gonna be a big one, i'm working very hard !! please please please, let me know what you think (gonna update the header - just wanted to put something for now lol)

fine line / mcu x reader / part one

summary: Three kids from Brooklyn. A war that asks too much. And a woman with secrets stitched into every seam.

also - seems obvious bc of the title but fine line by harry styles is the song for this fic, if you like listening while reading that should def be on your playlist (maybe I’ll make a playlist, I’m undecided)

to be tagged in future works, please turn on post notifications for @vegaslibrary

word count: 2.5k

warnings: (not specific to this part, but for the series as a whole. this fic is 18+, you are responsible for your own media consumption). language, angst, drinking, smut, violence, references (and descriptions) of bucky's abuse within hydra, canon-typical situations - this is the mcu y'all, shit will get a little crazy, and a little devastating

Summer, 1943

“Come on, doll,” Bucky sighed, hand on your waist gripping firm to try and stop you but you just gave him one of those looks that was so classically you. A little annoyance, a little mischief. “A double date with Steve and Bonnie isn’t really what I had in mind for our last night.” 

His hand shifted just slightly, not enough to be considered indecent for how publicly you were situated, but enough towards your hip that you knew what he meant, what he wanted. “There’ll be plenty of time for what you’re suggesting later, Sergeant Barnes,” you replied, the smirk on your lips completely undercutting how innocent you sounded. You pushed him closer to Steve, forcing them to soak up as much conversation as they could before Bucky left at first light tomorrow morning. 

“I don’t see what the problem is. You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York.” Bucky said. “You know there’s three and a half million women here?” He was trying to make him feel hopeful and optimistic about his departure but you and Steve both knew it was fruitless. Bucky was leaving, leaving the two of you behind to go fight the war. It had been just you three since you were children, against the world, and your trio was about to fracture… in ways the boys didn’t even know. 

“I’d settle for just one,” Steve sighed and you flashed him a bright smile, trading places with Bucky and looping your arm through his. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’ve taken care of that, isn’t it?” you asked, waving to Bonnie in the distance, waiting for you all just at the entrance.

“What did you tell her about me?” he asked apprehensively.

“Oh, only the good stuff, Steve,” you replied, leaning closer, “and there was a lot to tell.” You made introductions and nudged him forward, trying to push him out of his shell but Steve didn’t do well with letting the rest of the world see who he was. You and Bucky were larger than life, and so was he according to you, but you two seemed to be the only people who knew that.

Howard Stark took the stage—a technology man so ahead of his time you half-believed he was a time traveler. You considered yourself a fairly practical woman, but even you couldn’t help feeling giddy as he spoke of a flying car. You watched in awe as he made it hover above the ground and you turned to face Bucky when you heard him mutter holy cow, with an awe struck smile on your face and delight in your eyes.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek before turning to say something to Steve, who had disappeared at some point in the last five minutes, causing him to look around confused. You gave a sad smile, pointing toward the recruitment center. Bonnie didn’t notice, still marveling at Stark’s other inventions.

“I’m not sure why he wants to face the rejection time and time again,” Bucky said, a mix of disappointment and sympathy in his tone.

“He’s a dedicated man,” you said. “It’s a fine trait in what would make a fine soldier… I just wish they could see that.”

“Well, not everyone can see the world as you do, doll,” he said, pulling the door open for you. “But it’d sure be a good thing if they did.” You frowned slightly when you found Steve, standing in front of a mirror meant to show the person in front of it in a full military uniform… and Steve’s eyes rested where the neck was supposed to be. You thought the world of him, as did Bucky, and you hated how much him and everyone else fixated on his size. You always said a man was measured not by his stature, but by what his heart contained, though Steve could only hear you say it so many times before he stopped believing it.

“Come on,” Bucky said, clapping him on the shoulder and Steve turned, almost a little embarrassed at being caught in front of the display. “You’re kind of missing the point of a double date, we’re taking the girls dancing.”

“You go ahead,” he replied, stepping away from the mirror with his hands in his pockets. “I’ll catch up with you.”

“You’re really going to do this again?” Bucky asked with a disapproving look and you shot him one of your own.

“Well, it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck.”

“As who? Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch you… or worse, they’ll actually take you.” You gave Steve a sympathetic look, you’d watched him torture himself with this since the war began, and it broke your heart.

“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this-”

“This isn’t some back alley, Steve. It’s a war,” Bucky shot back and you sighed, realizing Bucky’s little side mission before he met up with you was pulling Steve out of another fight.

“I know it’s a war.”

“Why are you so keen to fight? There’s lots of other important jobs-”

“What do you want me to do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?”

“Yes! Why not?” Bucky was exasperated and you let out another sigh. This is how it always was, it was you in the middle of them constantly… because you could so clearly see both sides. Bucky had points, but so did Steve. 

“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky. Even Button is doing more than me,” he protested and your eyes darted around… of all the places you didn’t want your laundry aired, a recruitment center was pretty high on that list.

“Steve,” you nearly whispered, a warning. You didn’t need any attention on you or what you did for the war, the less people knew the safer you’d be and the better you could carry out your tasks.

“Sorry,” he muttered, giving you an apologetic look. “Men are laying down their lives, Bucky. I’ve got no right to do any less. It’s not just about me.”

“Right, cause you’ve got nothing to prove,” Bucky shot back and the air grew more tense around you. You wished they wouldn’t fight, not when you had a gut feeling things would never be like this again. Tomorrow Bucky would ship off to war, you’d disappear into your work, and Steve… you didn’t know what Steve would do. This moment could have been the last where you were all still just kids from Brooklyn.

“Come on, aren’t we goin’ dancing?” Bonnie called out, lingering near the entrance.

“Yeah, we are,” Bucky answered, a slight edge to his tone as he tried to pull you away but you planted your feet.

“James,” you said, voice firm. “Not like this.” You gave him a look and he glanced back to Steve, letting out a sigh as he conceded. You were right, as always.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid until I get back,” he said, a teasing lilt to his tone as he fixed the distance he’d created just a minute ago.

“How can I?” Steve asked. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.” You cracked a smile, watching Bucky pull him in for a hug, both of them muttering something like punk and jerk. “Be careful,” he added when Bucky pulled away and you could see the longing in his eyes. Longing for his best friend’s safety, longing to go with him.

“Stop by the shop this week, okay?” you asked, leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek and he nodded half-heartedly. “Don’t disappear on me too, Rogers,” you prodded, keeping your tone light and he gave you his full attention, promising he would come by before you ran to catch up with Bucky. Perhaps it was a low blow pulling on his heartstrings like that, but you felt you had to. You didn’t have much time to make sure he’d be alright without Bucky… without you. You all had jobs to do, and as soon as Bucky shipped out yours would be your focus, you just didn’t know what Steve’s focus would be.

You and Bucky burst through the door like you were outrunning the end of the world, clumsily making your way inside your small apartment without letting your lips stray from his. Your back hit the wall with a soft thud and he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck as his hands roamed everywhere, trying to memorize the feel of you as best he could and you were doing the same. You wanted his touch burned into your skin, the memory lodged in every fiber of your being.

He groaned when you grabbed him by the lapel of his coat, one you’d made for him, and pulled him back to your lips, kissing him with such an intensity that his grip on your waist became bruising. Good, you thought. Give me something to hold onto when you’re gone. The sound that tumbled from your mouth when he hoisted you off the ground to set you on the table shot straight through him and he couldn’t get his hands to move fast enough as they pulled your coat down your arms and began working on the buttons of your dress.

Each inch of skin he exposed made him crumble for you, and his hands landed on either side of your neck to pull you back into a kiss, demanding and hungry… possessive. The slide of his tongue against yours melted you into him, sent tingles to the tips of your toes…. Your fingers were more controlled as they undid his belt, more graceful than his movements had been but the way you tugged it off and threw it on the floor was anything but. You slid your fingers through the loops and pulled him flush against your core, softly biting his bottom lip as he groaned into your mouth.

“God, Button,” he whispered, pushing the hair from your face. “You tryin’ to kill me before I ship out?” 

“Maybe just incapacitate you,” you replied and he shook his head before his lips traced a path along your chest. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he lingered just above your heart and when he lifted his eyes to meet yours they were dark, unreadable.

“You’re gonna vanish, aren’t you?” It was barely above a whisper but it felt loud as it rattled through your ears, heart still thudding rapidly and his hands still holding you like you might vanish right now. You’d grown so still you felt a little like glass beneath his fingers but he pressed on anyway. “I know what you’re planning, you might be able to fool Steve, but not me.”

You didn’t answer, just let your hands slide up to rest on his chest… not quite pushing him away, but not pulling him closer either. “You think I’m stupid?” he asked, catching your chin and pulling your gaze to him… not forceful, but insistent. “You’ve been wrapping things up for weeks, meeting people you won’t name. Soon as I got my papers, you started pulling away. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Bucky-”

“I get it. You want to do more. You’ve always wanted to do more.”

“So please don’t fight me on it,” you replied, soft and sure. “Not tonight.”

He swallowed hard, jaw flexing as he considered his next words. “I’m not trying to stop you, I just-” he exhaled sharply. “I don’t know how to walk out of here tomorrow and feel like it’s really you that’s leaving me.”

“Because it’d be so easy if it were you leaving me?” you asked as you ran your fingers through his hair and he didn’t have an answer, because it wasn’t easy either way. “Forget tomorrow. Just be here. Just… be here.” 

There was nothing else to say, and he didn’t know how to deny you anything, especially not when you pleaded. His eyes scanned your face for a moment and his grip on your face squeezed, just slightly, before he pulled you back into him, kissing you with a new purpose. Now, it wasn’t just him that had to make it back home to you, you had to make it back home to him, too. He didn’t like those odds, both of you being out there.

He pulled you up and helped you pull off the rest of your clothing before pushing you back onto the bed and settling above you, hands taking in every inch of flesh they could. Each movement felt loaded, a whisper of I love you, of I miss you, of please don’t break my heart. Each push of his body into yours filled you like fire and you wished you could stay here like this with him forever… that there wasn’t a war you were both so determined to fight, that you didn’t have to worry about the world outside your apartment door. You wished you lived in a world where the only thing that mattered was you and Bucky in this bed, giving and taking everything you had to offer.

You laid curled against his side, head resting on his chest and listening to the steady thump of a heart that you knew belonged to you. Your fingers moved idly along his skin, as if you were trying to stitch something into him. “I keep thinking about everything we’re never gonna get.”

Bucky was quiet for a long moment. His hand moved slowly along your back, like he could calm the ache out of you one inch at a time. “Like what?”

“Sunday mornings,” you said. “Stupid arguments over curtains. You kissing me in a grocery store, and it not meaning goodbye.”

He smiled, a little sad, “I would kiss you in a grocery store.”

“You’d kiss me anywhere, Sergeant.” you teased, voice thick with affection.

“True,” he chuckled before you fell back into silence. You could feel sleep trying to pull you under, your body exhausted from the weight of his touch, the weight of what it had meant, but you fought it… wanting another minute. Another ten. Another twenty.

“Promise me something,” you said, your voice smaller than you meant it to be.

He looked down at you. “Anything.”

“Leave before I wake up.”

“Button,” he started, already knowing he’d barely be able to stand leaving you as it was.

“Don’t make me watch you walk away,” you murmured. The pain of it lived in every word. “I won’t be able to take it.” He stared up at the ceiling like it might hold a better answer, jaw tense. “Promise me,” you prompted and you saw it break in his eyes. That familiar crack, the one that always came right before he gave in… because it was you. It would always be you. There wasn’t a single thing you could ask of him that he wouldn’t do, even if it broke his own heart.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”  You stared at him for a long moment, memorizing every sharp line, every soft crease, like your eyes could hold onto him when your arms couldn’t.

You pulled him back into you, losing yourself in him again. There would never be enough kisses. Never enough I love you’s. Never enough of this.

But it had to be.

This one night had to hold all the ones you’d never get.

Time was already moving on without you. But for now, it was just him. Just you. Just this.

And that would have to be enough.

next part

[melianwrites]

Confession kiss | Pippin

Tomorrow was the day. The day he would leave the Shire for the first time in his life. The thought, on the one hand, made him giddy with excitement but also more and more nervous the closer the moment drew near.

He was packing his sack, knowing there might not be time for that later. Him, Merry, and Sam were helping Frodo move his things from Bag End to his new house in Buckland. He had no idea all of them knew about his plan to leave and definitely did not expect them wanting to go with him, but they would, whether Frodo wanted it or not.

There was also another thing on his mind that he had to do before leaving, but he could not get himself to do it.

He was so focused on his thoughts that he did not hear you entering his room, noticing only when you spoke to him.

-Pip? - you said right behind him, trying to look over his shoulder to see what he was doing. You startled him, causing him to almost drop the water bottle he was holding. - What are you doing?

You being in his house wasn't something unexpected, per say. You were really good friends with his sister, and they often invited you over since they didn't have the same sense of adventure as you did and prefered to hang out indoors. That's what got Pippin smitten with you to begin with. You'd drag him and Merry somewhere out in the wilderness, showing them cool places around the Shire. The twinkle in your eyes as you talked about how you came to find them was the most beautiful thing to him.

And this was where the 'something' he needed to do cane in. He had to tell you what he was doing, precisely, that he was leaving. He knew that you wouldn't try to stop him, maybe even want to go with him, but he certainly did not want that. Don't get him wrong he would love to go on an adventure with you, but perhaps not this one. Every time he thought of you tagging along, his mind could only conjure up the dangers you'd be put in from Mr. Bilbos stories. That's why he was apprehensive to tell you.

Seeing as he got lost in his thoughts again, you simply shook your head, taking the empty water bottle from his hands and setting it down on the bed, taking his hands in yours. This got his attention, napping him out again and making him look at you.

-What's gotten into you? You've been so distracted lately, Pippin, and not in the way you usually are - you said with a small smile that he returned.

-It's just that... - he started. He has to tell you now or else he might not get the chance - I have to tell you something, something very important - you tilted your head to the side, indicating for him to go on - I'll be leaving the Shire soon and i just wanted to let you know before I do - he said looking away from you - I'm not sure when I will be back - or if I will be back he added himself in his mind - but I simply wanted to tell you before I depart - he finished before ubroptly looking back at you - and before you ask, you cannot come with me that is out of the question - he stated firmly.

You looked at him with disbelief on your face, not only was he telling you all this mere days before he is to leave but also forbade you from following him.

-Why can I not come with you? - you asked firlmy, shaking your hands from as the grip has shifted during him talking. - Do you not want me there with you? - you demanded again, feeling frustration bubbling up inside you. Going outside of the Shire was your lifelong dream and Pippin knew that you would jump at the first opportunity to do so and it hurt you for him of all people to take that chance away from you.

-No, Y/N , no that's not what this is about at all - before he could continue to explain you interrupted him abruptly.

-Then what is it about? What else could it be about? You know it has been my dream, to go out there, and you present me with a resemblance of a chance to do so just to snatch it away before I can even reach for it. Do you think I am too weak to survive out there? I want to remind you that all the places we ran around as kids were scouted by me. They may not have had the type of enemies like in Mr. Bilbos stories but still, I know how to travel and - you were ubroptly cut off as you were yanked by you waist closer to Pippin and his lips landed on yours. To say you were surprised would be an understatement. At first you did not react. Your brain needed a few seconds to comprehend what was going on. Once it did you kissed him back just as strongly, your hands, that were previously in the air, finding purchase on his chest. You stay connected for several long seconds before you have to part for air.

-Because I care about you damn it - he breathes out quietly, and if you were any further away from his face, you might have missed it - every time I think about taking you with me, all I can picture is the danger I would put you in - he tightened his grip on just just a bit - I could never do that to you , or to myself - he sighed deeply, leaning his forehead against yours. - just please, for now, stay here, and once I get back, I promise you an adventure outside of the Shire, but this one is just too unpredictable, and i beg you not to take that risk.

You stared at him, still awestruck from the kiss you just shared but smiled anyway - so be it - you sighed - I will stay put here, for now, but I'm holding onto your word - you both giggled at that, giddy at the prospect of a shared adventure.

-Also - he started - I love you, if the kiss hasn't conveyed that already - he said making you both chuckle.

-And I love you - you stated - if me kissing you back wasn't clear enough.

The both of you then stood there, laughing, in each others arms, as the world around you seemed to stop, if only for just a moment.

[fairlyang]

Easy money II 🕷️

asked to do yet another shoot but with a plot twist

w/c: 2.4K

pairing: pornstaroomie!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. teasing, making out, handjob, blowjob

part one

Two weeks had passed and it was almost as if that shoot never happened.

We both went back to normal, only talking when we walked past each other or offered each other dinner.

But besides that it'd be fairly quiet.

Well obviously besides when he'd bring other girls over for more shoots.

Almost every. damn. night.

It drove me insane because I kinda wanted to do another with him but wasn't sure how to ask or offer myself up.

So instead I dealt with the fact that I'd probably not get another chance and just listened to him at work every night with my toys between my legs because I couldn't help myself and I was growing more jealous with every new girl he'd bring in.

I just wanted him to fuck me like he'd fuck them-

Or even suck him off.

But alas it looked like that wasn't gonna happen so I lost all hope until I got a notification from my bank that left me thinking I was dreaming. Or dead.

"MIGUEL O'HARA sent you $5,000"

What. The. Fuck.

I open up my bank app and sure enough I now have $8K. My eyes almost bulged out of my eyes and I cover my mouth, utterly shocked.

I immediately get up from my bed and practically sprinted to his room banging on his door like a psychopath.

"COME IN!" He yelled and I burst through the door, holding out my phone.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!?!!?" I yell, doing extra theatrics with my hands to accentuate my confusion.

"It's your half of the video." He says matter of factly making me gasp.

"That video made $10,000?!?" I exclaim and a smirk tugs on his lips.

"What can I say the people liked it." He says and sits up from his bed.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that, I was thinking we should do another...." He continues then mumbles the last part but I heard him clearly.

I kept my excitement hidden but inside I felt giddy and wanted to jump up and down. But maybe then he'd change his mind so staying calm it is.

"Oh yeah?" I ask and he shrugs, trying to act casual as if it hasn't been on his mind since he noticed the success and that he's been wanting to have you in his videos before you filled in.

"If you'd want to that is." He says and you shrug.

My heart was racing, palms sweaty, it was getting much harder to act cool now that he was awaiting my response. I clear my throat and nod, "I'm down."

Miguel nodded and stood up, "are you busy tonight?"

I laugh, shaking my head not too surprised he wanted to film already. "Let's do it."

He grins and gets up from his bed, walking over to his chest in front of his bed and grabs his tripods. He then grabs the masks we used last time, throwing the pink one at me which I made sure to quickly catch. "So what do you have in mind?" I ask and play with the mask between my fingers.

"Well the people," he starts walking over to the couch he had by his window, "really wanted to see you in action."

"Me?" I ask and raise an eyebrow, could I be so lucky...

He nods and places the tripod in front of couch, positioning it correctly before taking out his phone out of his pocket. "We could do a handjob if you'd like." He says looking down at his phone and typing.

"Or if you want more money..." he coos making me chuckle.

Only for the money....

Of course...

"Should I change?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"Well actually just take off those horrendous pj pants." He teases making me snort.

"You're wearing batman pants-"

"Batman is cool-"

"At your grown ass age-"

"Better than dinosaurs." He snorts and I gasp.

"Take that back! We literally watched Jurassic Park after the first shoot..." I say and playfully glare at him as he finally looks up at me.

Only he could rock those ugly pants.

Only you could rock dino pjs, he thought to himself before shaking his head. Focus.

"So oral hm?" I mumble and walk over to him as he places his phone on the tripod.

"Mhm if you want." He responds making me chuckle.

I move my hair back and slip the mask over my head then fixing it so I could see right and my mouth was out. Then I groan and shake my head, "this thing is gonna be a fucking mess by the end of this."

"It'll be worth it." He says with a smirk sending a shiver down my spine.

Finally.

"And I'm honestly thinking no more collabs after this." He mutters making me scoff.

"Yeah right-"

"No seriously." He replies sincerely and shrugs.

"Well maybe besides with you.. it would be easier since you're already here..." he says looking back at his phone, avoiding my gaze.

Huh-

"Plus I know this kind of money could help us both. You work so hard and don't get paid nearly enough for all you do." He says now finally looking up and into my eyes.

I bite my lip and breathe in through my nose then exhale, should I?

It was a much bigger step, technically like being partners in a way. And surely this way he'd fuck me eventually-

"And I mean this sincerely, the 'fans' loved you out of all the girls I've worked with. Said our 'connection was unmatched.'" He says in quotation marks which stung a little, but I ignored it.

He then presses on his phone and walks toward me, "and I think I agree with them." He sighs and I could feel my heart racing.

"Really?" I whisper as he steps in front of me.

He nods and brings his hands up to cup my jaw, "Really." He breathes out and I almost immediately melted into his touch.

He then did the unexpected and made this sweet little moment even sweeter by leaning in and kissing me softly. It was so gentle and it had me questioning if he did this with the other girls. Or to show he really wanted to do this with me and not just this shoot but future ones.

I shook my thoughts away and kissed back, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He moved us to the right so we'd be on camera then sits us both down on the couch with me on his left. I could feel my heart thumping and it made me so nervous thinking he could feel it too. But he was too focused on this sweet kiss there was no way that'd be something he's paying attention to.

Surely.

Meanwhile in Miguel's head all he could think of was hoping you couldn't tell how overexcited he was. Hell after the first shoot he's just missed your touch, your body, your sounds.

But he didn't want to overstep so he kept his distance and stayed to himself.

Then after every shoot after that one it just didn't feel the same. With you it felt natural, it didn't feel like you were putting on a show but actually caring about your pleasure.

But in todays case, it'd be his pleasure. Which he was so ecstatic about. Every time a girl would be sucking him off he'd just close his eyes and imagine it were you. And now it was finally going to happen and he didn't have to pretend anymore.

Finally.

His hands were tracing my body slowly which made me realize I should be the one doing that. This whole scenario was gonna be about him technically.

I deepen the kiss and move my left hand to his hair, playing around with the curls at the back of his neck. With my right hand I graze against his collarbone softly while I slide my tongue into his mouth.

He moaned into my mouth making me squeeze my thighs together then move my hand, trailing down his body.

I lightly grazed his abs but my hands stayed put on the waistband of his pants. I pull away from the kiss that left us both breathless but then bring my face down to his neck, leaving soft kisses on his warm skin before toying with the waistband.

He bucked his hips up but I just moved my hand away, up to his stomach. I let it sit there while I leave a few marks on his neck, making sure it'd last a handful of days.

I move up a little and nibble on his ear before moving my hand down and on his already hard bulge. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I feel the thickness then take a look down and that was when I noticed he was breathing heavy.

I turned to look at him and his eyes were shut and his lips were shaking. I smile and bring my hand down, palming him over his pants as I watch him let out a small moan.

I was already starting to feel my panties getting soaked which only surprised me that it didn't happen sooner.

I rub the outline of his dick gently, which earns me breathy moans that were music to my ears. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me and was about to say something when i slipped my hand down his pants and stroked him over his boxers.

He moaned again and it only gave me motivation to keep going, to hear those moans that were because of me. Not another girl. But me.

I then couldn't help myself nor how quickly I took the pj pants off him but he didn't seem to mind. I then grabbed his dick and slipped it out of the hole of his boxers. I look down at it on my hands and gulp, he was so thick and leaking so much precum.

I open my mouth and spit on his angry tip, watching as it dribbles down then start stroking it with my right hand before it could go all the way down. He lets out a loud moan and bucks his hips up, thrusting himself into my hand which only made more wet because he looks so good.

I stroke him faster and continue watching his face, his cheeks were rosy and there were beads of sweat along his forehead and he laid his head back against the couch. "Feel good Mig?" I murmur and he brings his head up nodding.

He then looks down at my hand and groans, "so fucking good baby."

I hum and continue my pace, then moving my face closer to his and leave a kiss on his cheek before kissing along his jaw. "Oh fuck baby-“

I then pull away and drop to my knees in front of him. I continue stroking him, staring up at him with big doe eyes before moving closer and leaving a little kiss on his tip making him groan.

I squeezed my thighs together and smiled up at him before leaving kitten licks on his tip and lightly circle around it earning myself a deep moan. "Just like that pretty girl-"

"Oh shit!" He moans as I slip him inside my mouth, bringing my head down as he tilts his head back.

I move my head down as much as I could, barely able to take half before pulling back and letting the drool drip out of my mouth and back onto his tip. I slip him back in my mouth and try to take more than the first time, already gagging on it but I wanted to take it all.

I pull back with no luck then try once more, taking him in my mouth and then go down as far as possible until I'm gagging on him and then going down further, finally able to take all of him down my throat.

"Fuck! God baby you're taking it s-so fucking good." Miguel moans and I feel myself clench around nothing.

I pull out then immediately go back down again, having him hit my throat some more. I then feel his hands hold onto my head so I freely let him guide me.

With teary eyes I look up at him and moaning at the sight of him rolls his eyes back, moaning louder and louder the more I take him. "So fucking good to me-" he moans and forces me to move my head harder.

"Take that fucking dick pretty girl- fuck- I know you can take it." He groans and slowly starts thrusting up into me.

I close my eyes and let him take full control which he was clearly, very appreciative of. He began thrusting his hips up then shoved my head down as deep as it could go then thrust down.

"Such a dirty fucking girl for me- taking all that cock-" he breathes out and starts thrusting his hips up faster but his grip on my head loosened.

"Oh baby- you have no idea how long I've needed that pretty mouth of yours. Too fucking long-" he moans making me whimper against him and I feel his cock begin to twitch in my mouth.

"Mmm gonna give you a load you deserve-" he murmurs and I squeeze my thighs feeling my arousal dripping to my inner thighs.

"All this cum just for you baby. Fuck!" And with one final deep thrust he came down my throat, I quickly swallowed and then pulled away, taking a deep breath before trying to control my breathing.

He then reaches down and grabs me, pulling me up and smashing our lips together. He places me on his lap as I kiss back and let him taste himself in my mouth. He then pulls away and gives me a small smile which I returned with pleasure.

But he then gave me a goofy grin which only made me laugh and playfully slap his shoulder. He rolls his eyes then pecks my lips softly before placing my head on his chest.

His heart was thumping clear as day.

"Only you cause this, with or without a shoot." He admits quietly and I quickly look up at him with wide eyes.

"I really would love to make content with just you." He says then quickly adds, "not just out of convenience."

I smile and feel my whole body grow warm, "so when's a good time to have the 'what are we' chat?" I joke and he bursts out laughing.

"We can be whatever you want us to be." He says and brings a hand to my cheek, lightly stroking it making me melt into his touch.

[wistfulforstars]

For What It's Worth - Part 6

Rex x Reader

Summary: You start feeling the effects of having your handsome trooper home full-time, and you and Rex entertain an unexpected visitor, but not for long.

Warnings: Whoops, I spilled a little plot in the cheesy romance fondue, this is getting longer than I intended and I'm not sorry, reader is afab, a roving asshole makes an appearance, character is insensitive to reader's experience, politics, trying to use injured people for your marketing optics will get you a Rex-sponsored kick in the ass, allusions to sex, mature sexual content in later chapters, minors: get out

Tag List: @bambiswriting @jessyhazy

If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please comment below or message/ask directly.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

You had been overjoyed when Rex had come back from his briefing much earlier than you expected, a knowing grin barely hidden on his lips, and asked if he could impose on you a little longer. You’d hobbled over - your damn ankle had still been giving you trouble - and thrown your arms around him. He chastised you for aggravating your ribs, but he couldn’t hide the giddy tone in his voice.

Having him in your house for the past week had been heaven, but your heart had become the latest on an impressive list of broken body parts when he walked out the door to do his duty. Now, with his promise to stay, that part of you had been miraculously healed. 

“You’re only allowed to stick around if you sleep in the bed with me,” you said firmly. “That couch must have been murder on your back this week.”

Rex chuckled, “You’ve clearly never slept on a GAR cot, cyare. My back has survived much worse than your couch can dish out.”

But still you insisted, “I’m serious Rex. I’m healing nicely-”

“You’re still wincing every time you stand up, and stumbling when-”

“Healing nicely,” you repeated. “And unless you want to head back to that cot, I suggest you park your armor in my room, and come keep me company while I make lunch.”

Your tone didn’t really allow for argument, but Rex still sighed at your stubbornness and took his sweet time answering, “Fine, cyarika. But if it becomes an issue even one time, if I so much as steal the covers and give you a chill, I’m moving back to the couch.”

You snorted, “Good luck getting the blankets away from me, captain. You’ve never faced a battle like this before.”

You turned to head to the kitchen, to start on the simple stew Rex had bought ingredients for - a stew that you suspected was becoming one of his favorite dishes. But gloved hands and plastoid covered arms seized you gently from behind, and your bare feet left the floor. You squealed as Rex supported your knees and back before heading away from the kitchen.

“You won the fight to get me in bed, don’t push it, cyare,” his knowing eyes smiled down at you. “Give me ten minutes for a shower, then I’m cooking.”

“Oh c’mon!” you griped as he deposited you on the couch. He placed you on the cushions as delicately as a leaf might land on a lake. “Rex, I’m doing so much better-hey!”

Staunchly ignoring you, Rex began wrapping you in your favorite fluffy blanket, flung to the floor in your rush to greet him. He disregarded your squawks of protest as he leaned you forward and put another pillow behind your head, tucked your feet, and turned on the netscreen, flipping to one of your favorite channels. He handed you the controller and smoothed down your hair. 

One of your least favorite things about your job as a medic - it made you a terrible patient. You knew it, your doctors knew it, and your family and friends definitely knew it. But knowing it didn’t automatically banish the icky feeling you got when someone treated you like an invalid. Your hackles rose, and you glared up at your boyfriend.

“Listen here, captain-mph!” you were silenced by the truly glorious feeling of Rex’s lips pressing firmly to yours. Warmth gathered in your belly, and sparks shot off behind your closed eyes. It was the first time since the attack that he’d allowed himself to kiss you with any firmness at all, preferring to kiss your hands and wrists, perhaps your unscathed cheek, for the entire week. 

You were a little dazed as he pulled away, a small bit of triumph in his eyes. It had been too long, dammit. You were brought back down from the clouds, however, by his low, firm voice.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that the dishes from last night have been done,” he fixed you with a disapproving eye, one that had caught and punished many more serious shenanigans than secret chores. You sank back into the cushions a little. “Or the fact that the oven’s been scrubbed to hell, or that the floor’s been swept. You didn’t even try to hide the laundry you folded.”

He gestured towards the basket at the end of the couch, and you crossed your arms, stuck out your lip. You weren’t proud of pouting, but you were kind of running out of options.

“You are the only man in the galaxy who would possibly notice that the oven had been scrubbed.”

“You were supposed to relax,” his absurdly calm demeanor was not helping.

“I’m bored, Rex,” you whined. “And I feel bad, watching you run around my apartment, doing all my chores. I was trying to be helpful.”

He sighed, and leaned back over you with a hand perched on the couch behind your head. He tilted your chin up and looked resolutely into your eyes. You could feel the warmth of him through his glove.

His warm words poured over you like honey, his tone not exactly forceful, but definitely unyielding, “I do your chores because I love you, cyare. Because you are ner karta, my heart, walking around in the world, and right now, my heart is recovering from a terrible experience. So I’m doing what I can to help my heart heal, to protect it and make sure it’s strong and healthy again.”

He kissed your forehead, a whisper of touch against your stitched up wound, “I’ve got two more days of leave, and then I’ll be taking my post with the CG. You’ll be alone again for most of the day when I do. Give me these two days, please.”

Well. How the hell were you supposed to argue with that? You pulled your petulant lip back in, and nodded.

“Thank you,” he breathed, relieved. He pressed one more kiss to your yearning mouth before going to take his shower.

You slumped back into your pile of pillows, glaring at the brace on your arm. You’d ended your round of the tough painkillers the day before, and today, you were more alert than you had been since the assault. Sweet and darling as your boyfriend might be, you were now realizing the trouble you were in with him being around full time, fussing over you.  

You could also admit, at least to yourself, that maybe you were being contrary with him because you were getting a little…pent up.

And judging from his lovely (not to mention attractive) speech about protecting his heart, you didn’t think Rex was going to be willing to help you with this problem anytime soon.

**********

Lunch had gone off without a hitch, and Rex was happily dozing with you on the couch, so full he might have fallen asleep if not for the knock at the door. 

You had fallen asleep, and you shot up with a surprised mumble, “Mmm… Rex, s’Tia…”

He smiled. You were adorable. Then he turned to the door and called, “Come in, Alentia!”

She poked her pretty face through the door first, and smirked when she saw you on the couch, your loyal soldier sitting protectively at your side, “I brought a guest, is that okay?”

Rex turned to you, and watched as you glanced down at your comfortable, well worn attire and fussed with your messy bun. He heard you whisper to yourself, “Fuck it, it’s my house,” before calling, “Sure, that’s fine! Just hope they’re not expecting much!”

“Oh, I’d never!” came a friendly voice from behind the door. You smiled and rolled your eyes good naturedly, and Alentia opened the door fully, bringing with her a male Twi’lek carrying a bag of groceries. The family resemblance was uncanny. 

Rex prepared himself for the shock, maybe even the fear at seeing a clone in a domestic dwelling, but the Twi didn’t look the least bit surprised. In fact, he barely glanced toward Rex. Alentia took their bag of goodies to the kitchen, and her companion made his way over to the couch, where he crouched down next to you in a quick, agile movement. He looked you up and down, running his hands across your brow. You batted his hands away, annoyed and flustered, but he continued flitting around your face, down your neck, tilting your chin, assessing the damage so long Rex almost got up and pulled him away.

Instead, you smacked one of his hands, "Okay that's enough! Let me breathe!"

The frustration in your voice didn't seem to bother him, “Force, honey. Tia said you were looking better. How banged up were you before?”

You paused, squinting at him, before relaxing your shoulders and pushing his face back with your hand. He nearly toppled over, “Still prettier than you.”

He laughed and took a seat in a neighboring chair, “So, you wanna tell me what happened? Tia’s been remiss with details.”

“I’ll give you an abbreviated version,” you conceded warily. “After we stop being rude and make introductions.”

Your voice was firm, and Rex watched as you pointedly stared the Twi down. You gestured back to him with your hand, “This is Rex, my boyfriend. Rex, this is Shor Ryesim, Tia’s much older brother.”

Shor placed a hand over his heart, acting wounded, “Ouch, kiddo. 8 years is not that much older.” Then he leaned forward and held out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Rex.”

“Likewise,” Rex nodded curtly and shook the offered appendage. He didn’t know why, but there was something about Shor that he didn’t quite trust. He had an urge to retrieve his armor from the other room. 

“Oh!” Shor lit up and began digging in his pockets. “Got something for you, sweetheart. Just off the presses this morning.” 

He held out his hand, and cradled in it, was a pristine white button with a clone helmet on it. HUMAN RIGHTS ARE NOT OPTIONAL flashed in red. You flinched, looking a bit ill.

In a flash, Rex had reached over and snatched the pin, before grabbing your hand, “You alright cyare?”

Shor put his hands up and waved them back and forth, “Whoa, man, what's your deal? I was just trying to help replenish the collection! You know what those pins meant to her.”

“They’re why she was attacked in the first place!” Rex felt his voice rise. Anger boiled in his stomach. How could this prick be so insensitive?

Alentia came hurrying back into the living room. Her eyes zeroed in on the pin in Rex’s hand. She threw her arms up in the air, “Stars, Shor! I told you to leave it at home!”

“I thought it’d cheer her up!”

“It’s not an appropriate gift after what she went through!”

“But-”

“It’s fine,” your quiet voice cut through the noise of the bickering siblings. Rex’s heart stuttered when he saw your blank, shuttered eyes. You smiled, and it didn’t reach past the corners of your lips. “It’s not a big deal, seriously. Thank you for thinking of me. Rex, would you go put it on my desk please?”

He hesitated, but got up off the couch at the sight of your trembling jaw. He went as swiftly as he could to your bedroom, tossing the offending piece of political jargon onto the desk and heading back. 

In the living room, you were recounting what had happened to you with that same empty expression. Shor was looking properly sheepish, and Alentia had a hand around your shoulder, having taken Rex’s place on the couch. He chose to stand and watch from the far side of the room, close enough to reach you if you needed him. 

“...And then, some troopers must have heard the commotion, because they stunned the idiots and took them away,” you finished your watered-down version of the attack.

Shor stood up, clearly outraged, “This is appalling! Our government refuses to acknowledge those fighting for us as full citizens, and now full citizens are getting attacked in the streets for their commitment to justice!” He started pacing around the room. “You’re not the only one, kiddo. We keep hearing reports of citizens being assaulted for being suspected of clone sympathy. There’s too many of them for it to be a coincidence.”

“Shor is the head of a pro-clone citizen’s movement,” you supplied Rex, though not with the enthusiasm he’d have expected. “They petition the senate and hold protests and boycotts to try and pressure those who can affect change.”

Rex turned to the pacing Twi’lek. “And you don’t think this attack was random?”

“You think they targeted her on purpose? Like, they’d been following her for a while?” Alentia was appalled.

“Possibly,” came his answer. “Her backpack would have been something they could monitor, identify her by. She was stationed at the same clinic for a week. It wouldn’t have been difficult.” Shor shook his head, “There's a rumor that there’s a lot of appeals to young people by the anti-clone crowd. They put them through initiation, have them go rough someone up on the street, before they officially become part of the group.”

“They…” you whispered, shaken. “They beat the hell out of me as part of some sick initiation?”

Rex’s blood ran cold, “Has anyone informed the CG of this rumor?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

He grit his teeth. Fox had to know about this, had to be made aware before the-

“Are either of you, by chance, attending the protest against the rally they announced for next week?” Shor asked, before brusquely reaching out and grasping your arm. You winced at the sudden contact, and Rex lunged forward a step. “Because, sweetheart, if you were to speak at the podium I’ve set up, about your experience, about what these bastards put you through…”

But you started shaking your head furiously, alarmed, sliding away and shrinking in on yourself with each passing word.

That’s it, Rex thought. The time for company was over. He moved to kneel by you, and Alentia gave up her seat without a word. She at least seemed to be thinking of your well-being. He grasped Shor’s wrist with bruising pressure and removed his grip from your arm.

“No,” Rex answered for you both, and if he’d crossed a line with that he’d apologize for it later. He didn’t bother looking back at Shor’s reaction. “She won’t be well enough to go out for anything next week, and I’ll have orders to fulfill. My leave ends soon.”

You were staring up at Rex, glassy eyes vague and dazed. He put his hand to the back of your head and gently laid you back to recline on the couch again.

“She needs rest,” he informed their company. “I’m sorry to be abrupt about it, but do you think you could both head home? Thank you for the groceries.”

Alentia nodded immediately, “Of course. I’ll come check on you both tomorrow, and we can talk about your schedule. I don’t like the idea of her being alone all day yet.”

Rex threw a grateful smile her way.

“I’m right here, you guys. You don’t have to plan babysitting shifts,” you said, but your raspy tone and the grip you had on your blanket contradicted your point. 

“I’ll be in the area, planning the protest,” Shor shrugged. “I can look after her for a while too.”

Rex was sure his face was turning red, but Alentia answered before he could, “I think we’ve got it covered.”

“Of course.”

Alentia gathered their things up to go, but her brother, who it seems could not take a fucking hint, tapped on Rex’s shoulder.

“Can I speak to you a moment?” he asked, and though Rex felt he would rather eat a seppie’s blaster bolt, he wanted this weirdly persistent person out of your apartment. At least by talking to him, Rex would be close enough to toss him out on his sorry ass.

He followed Shor to your entryway, where he turned and spoke in a hushed tone, “Look, I know she’s been through a lot, and clearly, you’re not my biggest fan-”

“Glad to see you noticed.”

“Yeah, well,” the Twi shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s a weird, macho, threatened-by-other-guys thing-”

“For me to be threatened,” Rex growled low in his voice. “You’d have to be threatening. I just don’t like seeing the woman I love made to feel uncomfortable.”

But this Twi’lek, it seemed, was impervious to the point, “Fighting for a just cause is uncomfortable! She could do so much good if we just got her up on that stage-”

“No.”

“Look, I know she’s wounded. That’s actually a positive thing for us, if she gives a speech. The optics would be-”

Rex saw red, “I don’t give a damn about the optics or the rally or anything else! I care about her!”

Shor just looked confused, “But surely, as a clone, you want to see change here. Payment for the war you never chose, but were forced to fight in. Reparations for the hundreds of men you’ve seen killed…men who bore your face-”

“Enough,” Rex snarled, and he seized Shor’s arm. “I am not your prop, anymore than she is, and I will never force her into a situation where she feels unsafe. My brothers and I were born and bred for war, to fight for a Republic that does not recognize us. We don’t need people like you to tell us that. Our lives are not a slogan you can slap on a pin. Yes, we hope for change, for a future. But there is one thing you will never understand, not in the core of your being: We will never put any of that before our brothers, our family. We will never choose a movement over the people we love.”

He wrenched Shor over to the door to your apartment, and turned the latch, “I appreciate your wanting to see us as human, I thank you for trying to win us freedoms we don’t have,” he said, before pushing him out the door. “But do not think you understand what it is to be a clone.”

Shor stared at him, gobsmacked, outraged, as people like him always were. 

Rex didn’t care, “I am a soldier,” he held his head high, squared his shoulders. “A veteran of a hundred battles, a leader of thousands of good men. And if you ever grab my girl without her permission again, I’ll show you exactly how I climbed the ranks so quickly.”

The door shut before the Twi’lek could say another word.

Silence. Blissful, resounding silence, until… 

“Rex?” came your voice.

He turned, and there you were, some color returning to your face, your eyebrows drawn and worried, “I’m alright,” he said.

You nodded, “I know. But he shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“He shouldn’t have said those things to you either,” Rex ran a hand over his head. “I should have stopped him from touching you. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “You didn’t know what our relationship dynamic was, I get it. He’s always been like that, ever since Tia and I were teenagers. Brash, wordy, convinced of his own righteousness. It makes him a decent force for change, and at least he’s focusing that energy in the right direction, but as a friend…”

“He’s shit,” Rex didn’t care enough about the guy to sugarcoat.

You nodded, “Weirdly, he doesn’t get touchy with me unless I’m dating someone, which till now wasn’t often. Tia thinks it's some hazing dominance thing with other guys. She doesn’t understand it. As she says, ‘It’s not a Twi’lek thing, it's not a Ryesim thing, it’s a Shor thing.’”

A thought suddenly struck him, “Is Tia going to be alright with him?”

You chuckled, “Oh yeah, he’s getting the stuffing torn out of him right now, I guarantee you. Tia gets pissed whenever he acts like a jackass, which is a lot of the time. Their mom guilts her into letting him visit her sometimes. Then Shor fucks up, runs away to joins a cause, and comes back sometime later, pretending he’s grown up.”

And Rex thought he had a complicated family life. You tapped the cushions with your foot, “Come sit with me, trooper.”

He did, and you laid your legs over his lap. He took a deep breath, “So…I take it you’ve been to some of his pro-clone protests?”

You quirked a brow, “Course I have. I can’t go to a lot of events because of my work schedule, but sometimes Tia and I go together, to show our support.”

“I…” he furrowed his brow. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

You threaded your fingers through his, “I know. But this matters. You matter. Your brothers matter. I promise to be more careful, but I cannot promise to stop fighting for you. Not when I know how far you’d go for me.”

He nodded and sighed, conflicted, “I don’t want him over here again.”

“I think he may have gotten that message,” you giggled. “I thought he was going to throw up when you grabbed him.”

“It’s not funny,” he said, even as he smiled.

“You’re right,” you said, and your voice took on a dark, coquettish tone. “It’s hot.”

He turned to stare at you, “That’s not funny either.”

“I’m serious,” you pressed, your hand releasing his and trailing up his arm then down again to his thigh. “I’m an evolved woman, but seeing my big, strong boyfriend defend my honor against that asshole? I thought I was worried about keeping my hands off you before, but now…”

“We can’t,” Rex insisted, but it came out hoarse and cracked. He felt the blush on his cheeks, the pressure growing against the zipper. Shit. “I’m not going to risk hurting you.”

You hummed, “You won’t hurt me, Rex. It would actually make me feel a lot better.” You shifted to climb on top of his lap, intent clear in your eyes. The little shorts you were wearing started to ride up, giving him a view he hadn’t seen since he left for his last deployment. You bit your lip, and Rex couldn’t stop the little noise that had built up in his throat. He had to move fast. His hands grabbed at the blanket, wrapping you snuggly and pressing you against him. 

“We have to wait, ner karta,” oh, your ass was wiggling in his lap. He was sure you could feel the hard cock twitching beneath you. “Hold still.”

You grinned, “Will you make it worth my while if I wait?”

Stars…as if there was anything he wouldn’t do for you. Rex gripped the back of your head, brought you down for another one of his firm yet controlled kisses. You let out a little groan as he pulled back. 

He barely recognized his own voice, gruff and full of promise, but the fierce look on his face apparently had you transfixed, “I’ll make it so good for you, cyarika. If you can just be patient for me, if you can wait until you’re strong enough, I’ll lay you down on that bed and I won’t let you leave until I make up for all the time we’ve lost.”

Rex gently, softly laid an open-mouthed kiss under your ear, and you gasped. You squirmed against his lap, but he gathered you up and settled back on the couch, focusing on the screen before him.

He knew though, you recognized a challenge when you saw one. Your breathless voice reached his ears, and his heart rattled against his chest.

“Alright, let’s see how long you can hold out, captain.”

[bvidzsoo]

Permanent Taglist Re-Branding

Hello, my loves! This might seem like a sudden announcement, but I've been really mulling over what to do, and at last, I've come to this decision:

I am redoing my permanent taglist, meaning that everyone who has been on it won't be anymore and will have to "re-subscribe" (I can't find a better word lol) if you so wish to continue being on my permanent taglist, however, I'm bringing changes to it hence this post was necessary to be made:

Minors aren't allowed to be on my taglist since I write nsfw, too, from time to time!

Ageless and blank blogs, I will not be tagging.

Anyone who doesn't put in their link correctly to their blog, once again, will not be tagged. (If you don't know how to do it, reach out, I'll gladly help you out!)

Now, without meaning to sound demanding or pretentious, when someone signs up to a writers permanent taglist I imagine they do that because they love the writer's stories. I am unspeakably grateful to each and every one of you who have been on my permanent taglist until now, but looking at the "graph" of how many people are getting tagged compared to the feedback I get from these people is...not the best. I don't expect anyone to become my friend or start sending in asks non-stop or whatever, but I'd like to hear your thoughts from time to time about the stories I post. Being a silent reader is alright to a certain extent, if you don't want to expose your identity, the anon ask button exists for a reason. I'm sure I'm not the only author/writer who deals with a lack of feedback, and meanwhile I cannot say it hadn't gotten better for me lately, oftentimes, still, most of my stories lack "real" feedback. I love and appreciate the likes, but something as simple as: "This was amazing/Thank you for writing this/I liked this story", does wonders to a writer, and at the end of the day, is what helps a writer know what their audience likes. I always get so much more excited to write when I get more than the usual feedback, because at the end of the day, I write these stories for myself, so to hear that others enjoy what I also do, makes me really giddy, you know?

I think I have said everything I wanted to, thank you for the support you've shown so far, and I hope we meet once again with my re-branded permanent taglist! Thank you for the support you've shown so far, writing for you all has been sincerely a joy! <3

২ link to my perm. taglist ২

↳Current perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28 @klllerwaifu @apriecotte @hwasbbyg

@kyeos4ng @samiiy20 @woosanhobros @aswho1estuff @khjoongie98

@ateez-main-yapper @kang-ulzzang @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @ginger-mingi @redzie02

@autieofthevalley @roomsofangel @peachyy-joonie @baeksofty

@tunafishyfishylike @syubseokie @jycas @fandom-freak-geek @intaksfav

@itswaffleberry @e3ellie @skz1-4-3 @hoe4yunho @kyeomooniee

@winklehwa @eyesonlyformingi @khjssss @torieisawesome99 @amrose8

@faeriehwa @hongjoongsprincess @iceteainsummer @lac3ybow @aurorajoye

@londonbridges01 @hyukssunflower @hwashua-luv @halloweenbyphoebebridgers @soobnez

@vixx00 @princesspearl @mintsugarr93 @m4n4-s4m4 @monbrat

@minkioswoo @vsereniasstuff @chicksmoothie

[asleeponelmstreet]

Burnt (part 2)

Part 1 Part 3

Charlie takes you to a show, and you are confronted by your past.

Tags: Alastor x female reader, Blitzø x female reader, eventual smut, lots of angst, panic attacks, drug use, Charlie and Angel Dust being the best friends a reader could ask for

wc: 3,244

This takes place after S1 of Hazbin Hotel and before Helluva Boss S2 E7 Mammon's Magnificent Musical Mid-Season Special. I don't know if that timeline is canon, but it's what works for my story so that's what I'm doing.

You can also read this on AO3 here if you'd prefer.

Minors DNI!!!

Fuck.

This was not fucking happening.

Your muscles stiffened the moment you stepped outside of the bright pink limousine that took Charlie and you to the show. A tingling sensation crawled up the tips of your fingers as you realized the mistake you had made, not asking the princess who you were seeing in the first place. Now you found yourself facing a grand concert hall adorned with a gigantic banner for the most famous clown in all the seven rings of Hell, the great Fizzarolli.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him plastered on every available surface in the general vicinity. It had been impossible to ignore one of the most well-known faces in Hell, but you did your best to shove down all the emotions that just the mention of his name evoked from you. But here, surrounded by all these pictures of your long-lost friend, it was just too much.

A high-pitched ringing filled your ears, drowning out all the noise of the city as well as your heartbeat thrumming in your chest. After thanking the driver, Charlie grabbed your hand and pulled you towards a side door away from the main entrance. You let her tug you along, not trusting your own feet to carry your weight. You could vaguely hear her say, “Being the princess of Hell comes with some perks” through the buzzing in your ears.

She led you up a small flight of stairs, into an elevator that sped towards the top floor and through a doorway guarded by security and a red velvet rope. The whole time you wracked your brain for a way out, but you came up with nothing. Your mind was about as useless as soup, alphabet soup. The letters only came together to form self-hating words and phrases that were not helpful right now: Idiot. You should have known better. Coward. This is on you. Traitor. It’s all my fault. That last one is the only one not in your own cruel voice.

The room you found yourself in was elegant, almost entirely built of glass walls along with an open front window facing the stage. If you weren’t brimming with dread and starting to feel a bit nauseous, you would be giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing a live performance from these luxurious box seats, fit for demon royalty. Growing up an imp from a poor family, you never dreamt of being somewhere like this – getting to see how the other half lives.

Velvet couches faced the stage with a few cocktail tables brimming with finger foods interspersed throughout the room. A fully stocked bar took up the back wall, complete with a bartender who didn’t appear to be drinking (or sleeping) on the job. A part of you wished Husk was behind the bar instead to bring some much needed comfort from your new life into this blast from the past. “Soooo what do you think? Isn’t it amazing?!” Charlie asked excitedly, waving her hands around as if she couldn’t keep her happiness to just her beaming smile.

Someone else entered the room before you could answer saving you for a few more moments. You didn’t know how it was possible, but Charlie’s face lit up even more when she saw them. “Uncle Ozzie!” she practically screamed as you turned to face the person who had joined you in what you had thought was a private space. You would have recognized him even if Charlie hadn’t said the name – though, you didn’t know him personally. Asmodeus, the King of Lust.

Your friend did a running jump into his arms, wrapping him in a great big bear hug. He reciprocated the tight embrace, planting a chaste kiss on the top of her blonde head before settling back down on the floor as if she were a child and not the tall, lanky thing before you.

“It’s always a pleasure to receive one of your strangling hugs Charlie.” His voice was as deep and smooth as you imagined the finest bourbon. “I’m so glad you finally made it to one of Fizz’s shows! How’s that dear old dad of yours? Haven’t seen him in quite a while.”

Charlie talked with THE embodiment of Lust as if he was a close family friend, but your mind wouldn’t let go of the familiarity in which he said Fizz’s name. You knew at that moment that the gossip columns you tried your best to avoid were right. Hell’s worst-kept secret was true. The powerful demon had a much more intimate relationship with your old friend than just working together on the popular sexbots made in Fizz’s image.

“Forgive me, I should introduce you two,” Charlie said. At the mention of your name, you thought you saw something — maybe a flicker of recognition in his eyes. You wondered if Fizz told him about you. But you quickly pushed the thought away, not wanting to think of what he would have revealed to the powerful demon now standing before you.

The show was about to begin, and Asmodeus motioned to you two to join him on the couch. You complied, but you were still on edge, trying to decide the best way to get out of this situation without offending Charlie who so sweetly invited you out tonight.

After all these years apart, you were about to see Fizz perform with his secret beau sitting only a princess of Hell away. You tried to ignore him, the way he looked at you as if you were a puzzle to be solved. Looking out into the crowd below was worse. Fans decked in merchandise featuring Fizz’s name and likeness filled the seats. They were screaming his name, cheering him on even before he appeared on stage. Some of the freaks were even debauching their sexbots right there in the crowd.

It was still hard to think of all the freaks who had their hands on him (even robot versions of him) since the last time you touched him. The overt sexualization of Fizz made you feel even sicker than you were before if that was even possible. You had seen it all before, but only in small doses. You even came across several of his robot clones throughout the years but did your best to steer clear of them at all costs. If you ever did, you had to remind yourself repeatedly that it wasn’t him – even if the RoboFizzs looked identical in every way.

But he was everywhere here. His name, his face, his fucking body. His body. Just thinking about what the fire did to his body made bile rise in your throat. And what they did and are probably still doing to his body today. The room started to spin the more you got lost in your thoughts, you gripped the armrests to ground yourself. That’s when you noticed Asmodeus eying your nails digging into the supple velvet.

The curtains parted and his small figure appeared center stage. Your stomach lurched and you felt tears coming. Damn, you’ve already cried so much today. You didn’t think your ego could handle it anymore. But it was too much. His arms and legs stretched out to unnatural lengths as he said something, but you couldn’t hear it over the sound of your heartbeat and the roaring crowd. That’s it. I’m out of here, you thought. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you ran towards the door cradling your stomach. Charlie jumped up to show you the way, you assumed, but you bolted towards the door before she could catch up to you.

Once you locked yourself in the bathroom stall, you fell forward releasing the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. It burned – probably from the hot sauce – and tears stuck tufts of your hair to your forehead. You tried to pull at your hair to keep it from falling into the bowl as you retched, but it was no use. You were a mess.

The knock at the stall door didn’t startle you. You knew who it was. “You know there’s a private bathroom a bit closer to our seats…” she paused as if reconsidering what to say. “Can I help you?” You gave in because damn you really did need help. You fumbled at the lock on the door until it opened, and she was down on the floor by your side.

“I can hold your hair back for you,” and with that, she took the ribbon from her hair and tied it around your own. Even with it tied back she gently held your hair keeping it from falling over your shoulders as you continued to throw up.

Once your stomach was emptied of everything that you had eaten that day, you lay your head against the wall and let yourself cry. “I’m sorry you’re missing the show,” you choked out.

“Shh, it’s okay. I can come back any time,” she cooed. She took your hands in hers and just held them in silence as you continued your embarrassing meltdown. After a few minutes, she asked, “Do you think it’s something you ate?”

“No—uh, yeah. Maybe?” You said, shaking your head. You just blew your best excuse. Why hadn’t you thought about feigning sickness? Probably because your brain was just about as functioning as that summer when you spent all your earnings on heroin and horse tranquilizers. That would be preferred to how you were feeling right now.

Charlie moved in closer to your side, wrapping your shaking body up in her long limbs and rubbing soothing circles into your sore muscles. “Would it help to talk about it?” she asked. “If you don’t want to, I understand. I can tell you’re holding a lot in. But if you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”

You were so used to holding it all in. Holding it all back. Her comforting presence made you think that if you opened up just a bit, it may provide some relief. But you wouldn’t crack, you knew better. If you told her everything, she would never look at you the same way again. You couldn’t lose her or the hotel. They were the only things that gave your life a purpose anymore. “I’m not ready,” you said. She didn’t frown or let disappointment show on her face, but you imagined that she expected you to open up. She lived for those sappy heart-to-heart conversations that you avoided at all costs.

Charlie sat with you on the floor of the bathroom in silence until you were ready to leave. She explained that she just needed to say goodbye to Asmodeus and then the two of you could go back to the hotel.

Once you were back in the private room, you hung back while she told him you weren’t feeling well. Charlie had done a good job at helping you fix up your makeup and hair in the bathroom, but you knew the demon of lust didn’t have to be very perceptive to know why you had missed the start of the performance.

Before you could escape the door, his eyes locked with yours. His gaze startingly soft. “Charlie has my number if you would ever like to see Fizz. I can speak with him.” He danced around it as if not wanting to reveal anything, but you knew. The fact that he said see and not meet. He knew something and this was an invitation.

The ride back was silent as stared out the back window, thinking about what Asmodeus said the whole way home. What did it mean really? Was there a possibility that Fizz didn’t hate you? Or that he could forgive you? You couldn’t even begin to wrap your mind around it.

You walked into the hotel lobby, expecting to have to make up an excuse for why you were back hours early. Luckily, it was just Husk asleep with a half-empty bottle of liquor behind the bar. Charlie pulled you in for one last hug, reminding you that if you needed anything she would be there before the two of you went your separate ways.

Once you were in the privacy of your room, you slumped on your newly made bed. You didn’t bother to bathe or change before you curled up into a ball. You wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t. You had already shed more tears today than you had in your entire life. More than after the fire. More than when you learned your parents died. More than when Fizz refused to see you. More than when he left.

Sleep didn’t come. No matter how many times you tried to empty your mind of all the thoughts clouding it. You squeezed your eyes shut, but the darkness behind your eyelids gave way to Fizz’s face. Seeing it plastered on every poster in the concert hall and briefly on stage before you made a run for the bathroom brought back so many memories. His little head tossed back in a fit of giggles, that smirk he threw your way amid a round of applause and those wide eyes full of hope before you turned your back on him.

After tossing and turning in bed for over an hour, you gave up. You tiptoed to your dresser where you found your hidden stash in your underwear drawer. Sitting astride the open windowsill that looked out on Pentagram City, you thought about how you found comfort in the place you least expected.

As you exhaled smoke, the tension in your body released a little. A few more inhales silenced your unquiet mind, letting you focus on the better parts of the day. Like Angel rushing to your side in the morning. And how kind it was of Charlie to invite you out in the first place. And was that a compliment you received from Alastor – of all the sinners in Hell? That overlord may have come from Earth, but the stories about his reign of terror preceded him.

A soft knock at your door had you scrambling to put your joint out and hide it along with the rest of your stash behind a curtain. Probably not the smartest move, but you weren’t exactly thinking clearly.

The door creaked open, and the top of Angel’s head peaked into your room, “It’s just me. Don’t worry the fun police is fast asleep.” You sighed in relief. Though you had a feeling Charlie would have been a bit more understanding of your rule-breaking after the day you had. “Is that fuckin’ grass, babe? What are we in the fourth grade?” the spider teased.

“It helps with the nausea… and my nerves,” you said tossing your hair out of your face before relighting what was left of your joint. You motioned for him to join you if he wanted. Though, you had a feeling he would have preferred some of his namesake or at least some Devil’s Dandruff as Charlie liked to call it.

For all that teasing, the porn demon still didn’t refuse a high. Angel joined you on the windowsill and took what was left of the joint you offered him as you lit another. “I saw Charlie earlier,” he said slowly between puffs as if he was trying not to rile a rabid animal. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, some.” You mumbled, perfectly content with smoking in silence but also not hating the company. Angel looked out at the skyline, gazing over all the bright glittering lights from all the buildings filled with sinners who never seemed to sleep.

“Why did you come here?” He asked. “You could’ve gone anywhere in Hell, but you moved to this tacky-ass hotel.” You smiled, knowing it was all a façade. Maybe he crashed at the hotel for a free rent at first but since you’ve gotten to know him, you knew he cared about it, about Charlie and her dream of redeeming sinners. “We don’t even know if sinners can get into Heaven.”

“I know there’s no way for imps to get into Heaven. That’s not why I’m here.” You let out a sigh. “But there are other ways to redeem yourself even if you’re not getting anything out of it.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of redemption?” Your immediate thought was no, but you did technically want redemption for selfish reasons even if they weren’t the same as his.

“I guess, but I’m not trying to get into heaven. I just wanted to help, and I thought it might help me find some relief.”

“Relief from what?”

“All the guilt.” You looked down at your lap, knowing it sounded stupid.

Angel cackled. “What do you have to be guilty of? You’re a fucking demon.”

“Well, I’ve killed more than I can count.”

“Ha! Haven’t we all?”

“True. And I don’t feel guilty for most of it.”

“Then, what is it?”

Although the conversation was getting a bit too serious for your liking, you felt like you owed him some truth. “I hurt the people I love. And even after losing everything, I keep doing it over and over again.”

Angel’s expression grew serious, and he thought for a moment before speaking. “We all do that. It comes with the territory.”

“No, you don’t understand.” You looked away from him. “It’s different.”

“Everyone thinks they’re different, hon. You’re not special.”

“I guess.” You pouted, wanting this conversation to be over. Maybe you could change the subject to something else. “Alastor complimented me today…” You noticed the time on the alarm clock beside your bed. “Or I guess, yesterday.”

“Al complimented you?! Didn’t know he had it in him. Are you sure he wasn’t sizing you up for a meal? What’d he say?”

“He said I looked absolutely divine,” you used your best impression of the radio demon when saying those two words.

“Oh, yeah. He totally wants to eat you.” You giggled, but Angel went on. “And not in a sexy way. I don’t think he’s interested. I would know because he keeps turning me down. Me!”

“Maybe he plays for another team,” you mused.

“Or he doesn’t even play the game at all. Because anyone would be all over this.” He emphasized his point by motioning to his body and doing a slutty little hip thrust that almost shifted him out the window. You grabbed him by the shoulders to make sure he didn’t fall as you tried to contain your laughter.

“You’re right. Anyone who refuses you is out of their mind!” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, don’t mock me. You know it’s true. I’m surprised we haven’t hooked up yet.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“I like you too much, Angie. I haven’t had a real friend in a long time, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it.” You also had a feeling he’d much rather be fucking Husk or Al than messing around with you.

“Why would it ruin it?” He leaned into you seductively, close enough that your lips were almost touching. “C’mon, it’d be hot,” he purred.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it,” you crooned. “Maybe someday, but not today.” You could see it being fun, but that’s all it would be. And although you weren’t a saint, you tried to avoid those kinds of situations now.

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, wondering if Angel knew how much you needed this distraction.

Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. I know Alastor isn't in this chapter but he'll be back, I promise. And if you're patiently waiting for Blitzø, don't worry I am too. I had to post this so I would stop worrying about it and finally be able to focus on the next part. It may have a little bit of spice. But shhhh... you didn't hear that from me.

tag list: @sirens-and-moonflowers @whoknowswhoiamtoday y'all literally made my week, thank you <3

[radio-writes]

I'll go with:

"You win"

"Why should I stay?"

"And what will you do? Run from me?"

It Seems the Devil and I Walked Hand in Hand

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Forced cannibalism, gore, murder, stockholm syndrome

Tags: Alastor x reader, GN reader, yandare, reader goes insane, dead dove do not eat

MDNI

A humid breeze blew through your hair, the putrid stench of Hell carried with it. Somewhere in the distance, something—whatever it may be this time—exploded, prompting usual screams of terror.

But your heart fluttered, eyes fixated on your friend next to you. You sat side by side with them, on a random hilltop the two of you stumbled upon. It was quiet, but barely out of the chaos of the main pentagram. 

"What? What is it?" They laughed as they finally called you out on your staring.

You almost swooned as their warm brown eyes met yours. "You just have the prettiest set of eyes in all of Hell, that's all."

You had been so proud of that. So happy about how smooth you were at the delivery. Giddy about the blush that crept onto your friend's face.

The same warm brown eyes—Hell's prettiest, as Alastor so kindly reminded you—stared back at you now. 

Unseeing.

Without its owner's head anywhere near.

On a plate placed before you.

Your blood felt like ice as you hung your head low. Unable to think. Unable to feel. Unable to breathe, maybe, you weren't really sure anymore.

"Afraid I might have gotten carried away, dear. I was absolutely starving since you stood me up on our lunch meeting." Alastor's tone was as bright and cheerful as it always was—you could almost argue that it was even happier now. "Of course, I did save you their eyes. I knew how much you just loved them."

He continued on, sighing and swooning about this and that. How it had been a while since he had such a satisfying meal. How it was all thanks to you for leading him to it. How he can't wait to meet more of your friends—if you ever managed to make any after the show he put on for you.

But you sat still, mind unable to comprehend what actually sat in front of you. Alastor might as well have been talking from three rooms away for all you heard from him. His voice almost sounding like it came from underwater, barely able to pierce through the fog in your head.

It was only when the demon who sat across from you stabbed a fork through an eyeball on your plate, did your senses come back. Like a flipped switch, you could hear well again, in time to hear the disgusting squish of the organ, blood and fluids spilling as it was stabbed.

"Don't let it go cold now, my dear. I went through so much trouble to get them intact and still warm for you." Alastor smiled as he sat across you.

One of his elbows rested on the table, hand cradling his cheek as you met his gaze. The gleeful, cold red eyes sickened you much more than the gore he held up. He raised the fork to you. Your friend's eye at the end of it. "Say Aaah~"

You pressed your lips together. Whether to resist the cruel torture, or to keep the bile from coming out, you were unsure. 

Like a stubborn child, you shook your head, arms pushing against the table to get up from your seat. Alastor was behind you in seconds, dissolving and rematerializing through shadows faster than you could blink.

"Nuh uh, dearest. We don't waste good food in this Hotel. What would the papers say if they find out we throw away such scarce resource?" He pressed his body against the back of your chair, securing you back at the table with an easy push.

He leaned over your shoulder, long arms reached around you. You stared as his clawed hands planted themselves on the table in front of you, caging you in, framing that horrid plate.

You felt his breath by your ear, that horribly familiar static prickled your skin, before you heard him speak. "You know, I'm starting to think you like how your friends taste."

You swallowed against your dry throat, eyes wide. Every breath you took was shallow as you tried to shake your head only to be met with a mocking laugh.

"No? Come now, why lie, my dear? It's only us here." Alastor leaned closer over you. The heat of his body inescapable. "This is the third friend this month. Even a child would have learned by now." 

"I'm all you need, darling. Everyone else is just cattle." His voice distorted as he spoke, a threat, a promise, you knew from experience that he'd deliver on.

Faintly you could feel the weight of metal around your neck. It wasn't physically there, no. After all, it's been a while since you've given him a reason to summon that chain. But it never really ever felt absent, specially at times like this.

You sighed in resignation, and braced yourself for that familiar horrible taste. Your hands clenched into fists on your lap—a sight that delighted the demon behind you.

"You win." You said softly. Numbly, you parted your lips, mind wandering away as you let Alastor slide the fork into your slack mouth. You ignored what it was you were chewing, letting your body function through the motions as you fought to keep your thoughts else were. 

You felt a large hand pat your head, bringing you back to the present in time to hear Alastor's praise. "What a good pet you make, my dear."

The plate before you was empty now, Alastor's looming figure having retreated away from your shaking one, back in his seat in front of you.

The horrible rotten taste still lingered in your mouth, but you didn't bother to ask for something to wash it away. You simply stood up, ready to run to your room and force yourself to throw up—again.

"Hm? Running from me now, are we?" Alastor's brows raised as he watched you. "Not that you can, I own you, after all." 

You suspected his words were less of a reminder for you, and more on just him loving to say them.

"And why should I stay?" Your words seemed argumentative, but your tone and the hunch of your shoulders were anything but. "I've already finished my punishment."

"I would say it was more of a treat, really. You have no idea how much I wanted to eat those." He laughed, not really minding that you just stared back blankly at him.

"Besides, you've yet to pay me back for leaving me waiting at Rosie's. So come, sit." An invitation to most, an order to you.

So sat you did. You ignored the smudges of blood on the plate still in front of you. You ignored the bitter taste the that lingered in your mouth. You ignored the growing numbness spreading from your chest to the rest of your limbs.

You ignored yourself.

Mindlessly, you nodded along to whatever gossip Alastor had, almost immediately, began sharing with you.

Alastor's hold on you had tightened in the past few months. Not only had he pulled you away from the people at the hotel—you were apparently terribly ill, contagious, but fine under his care—but he had also confiscated your phone and TV.

The window in your room was also simply magicked away. He didn't want you getting any funny ideas of leaving him again, after all.

At first you were fine with it. You had a few books in your room, anyway. But after the first two weeks, you've already finished most of them.

Still, they kept you entertained for a little longer after that; you didn't really mind rereading them—for the fourth time, you think.

But then you had that fight with Alastor. You had asked for your phone back, desperate to know what was going on outside your room. Desperate to listen to your music. Desperate to hear another voice aside from your own.

Alastor merely waved off your concern. He let you keep his radio after all. You could simply listen to him. He talked about current events, and played music, and broadcasted all sorts of screams voices. You didn't need anything else.

He didn't quite take it nicely when you had spat that it wasn't enough.

In the fray that followed, your books were lost. Torn to shreds in seconds.

But no matter, you had thought. You still had some paper, a pencil, some paint. While you weren't the best artist around, you doodled the hours away, anyway. Coloring, sketching, filling out every plain, empty gap on the papers you had.

You were quickly running out of material, though. You'd repeatedly ask Alastor to get you more paper, another pencil, even an eraser, every time he came by. But all he kept saying was that he forgot to fetch some, and that he will surely do so next time.

You were always disappointed, but knew better than to start another fight. You didn't want to risk destroying what little paint you had left, after all.

You had began to doodle on your walls. Counting the little details on the wallpaper, even each and crack along your way. You had drawn everything you ever knew existed; from characters you used to liked when you were alive to a freaking sock on the floor. 

The friends he made you eat.

Hastily covered with a drawing of a deer.

By his next visit, Alastor was appalled by the state of your room. He didn't quite appreciate your vandalism. He promptly snapped his fingers and the walls were replaced. Your drawings gone, the wallpaper gone, even the cracks were gone. It was now just a smooth red surface. 

He had taken away the paint, not that there was much left at that point. You thought it was fair anyway, considering you did draw on the walls like an irresponsible child.

You tried cleaning too, just to keep your mind going, your body moving. But no, no, no. Alastor couldn't have his dear friend, and a valued hotel guest, doing such menial labor. 

He easily cleaned the room for you, not a speck of dust left. Barely any furniture left too—he had found them tacky, apparently.

At that point all you had to look forward to were Alastor's visits. Constant, they were. He insisted he brought you your food personally, of course.

You had been suspicious about what he was feeding you, even once outright questioning what you were eating.

He had laughed. "Unless you made any new friends from this room, I can assure you, you aren't eating any sinners, my dear."

You weren't sure how much his assurance was worth, but food was one of the only two things you actually had here. You didn't feel like giving that up, too.

You hated him. Hated him for keeping you here. Hated him for ignoring all your pleas to be let out.

You hated him, but still found yourself jumping from your bed as soon as you heard the door handle rattle. 

You hated him, but him coming to visit meant you had something to do.

The radio by your bed, and Alastor's frequent visits were all you had left.

The isolation was driving you insane, broken only whenever Alastor wanted to.

Alastor was driving you insane, but without him you were completely isolated.

Your sanity felt like a candle burning at both ends, melting far too fast for you to keep it together. You didn't know anymore which torture you preferred. Alastor's presence or absence?

At least, that was a few weeks back.

Because it wasn't like you needed to choose now.

Your food had been appearing on your side table every meal time, instead of coming in carried by the familiar demon.

The radio beside you had been silent for a long while now. Not one terrified scream, not one jazzy tune, not even empty static. 

And of course, Alastor himself hadn't come in to see you in weeks.

You think it's been weeks, at least. He took the clock with him last time he cleaned.

No, there was no need to pick your poison anymore. Alastor had chosen for you.

At first, you had been bitter. How dare he ignore you—or did he forget about you? God, no, he wouldn't. Right? —how dare he not even check in to see if you were even still alive.

How dare he not visit.

And then, you were worried. It was one thing for him not to pop in on you, another thing entirely to miss his shows. He'd never miss an opportunity to broadcast fear over Pride Ring, but your radio had been quiet this whole time. What was keeping him, then? Was he hurt? Was he okay?

Then, and you think it was the worst of them all, you started to miss him. From the moment you woke from restless slumber, your eyes fixated on the door handle, begging it to turn. Your chest ached, praying to hear his silly staticy voice again, even if it was just senseless gossip.

You felt like screaming, begging, pounding on the door for him to visit you. But you knew he wouldn't like that. No, if the others in the hotel found out, Alastor would likely never visit you ever again. 

So you kept to your bed. Your days spent glaring down at the door in desperation, switching only to the radio to do the same, for hours on end. Every little shift you made, the sheets moving under you, felt so deafeningly loud in the empty room.

It was almost maddening.

"My dear, I have a task for you." Alastor's cheery voice spoke up by your ear.

Your eyes snapped open, greeted by the sight of the demon leaning over your head.

"Nothing too difficult, just a little grocery shopping." He continued on as if he hadn't left you to rot.

You didn't care, nor did you register what his words meant. No, the first thing your body jumped to, your mind went to, was that Alastor was here.

"Al!" The glee in your voice unrestricted as you pushed your sheets away and threw your arms around him. The relief, the absolute refreshment, of feeling another warm body against you again was almost heavenly.

A soft hand patted at your shoulder as he awkwardly stayed there. "Well, good morning to you too, sweetheart." He laughed.

You sat up, eyes wide as you leaned away and took him in. Unmistakably, a very welcomed sight.

He told you about the chore he needed done, truly very simple. Just a literal grocery list. But you held onto every word, every charming staticy syllable falling from his lips as if he was preaching your religion. 

You were determined to memorize it all, not just to complete the task but to simply engrave his voice in your head.

You were so thankful to finally hear something other than your creaky bed. To finally be having a conversation again. To feel human.

It hadn't even click for you that you will finally be heading out.

You were quick in getting the task done, determined to get back to Alastor as fast as you could.

You hadn't notice how your skin thawed in the outside heat compared to the icy room you've been locked in. You hadn't paid mind to everyone's greetings around you. You didn't care for all the flashing lights, and tasty smells, and loud music and laughter and screams around you as finished you little assignment.

You wanted to get things done so you could be by the familiar demon again. His presence almost felt like a drug you've been deprived off for so long, that it physically irked you to be away.

And that's how it was from then on.

You were given a new room at the hotel. Alastor had replaced all the books he destroyed because he just felt so guilty. He had also finally remembered to buy you all those papers and art supplies you asked him to get you. And he had even returned your phone and television to you.

Not that you cared for any of those. You've spent most of your time in Alastor's room anyway, unable to stand a second without hearing his voice. 

You'd cling onto every word he'd say, attentive, obsessed.

Your eye would twitch every time he'd mention someone, anyone. Part of you irritated that he had spent time with someone else other than you. Even more so that he cared enough to remember their name. To say their name.

Soon you not only clung onto his words, but onto him as well. Unable to stand that others spent time with him when you could not. You'd miss meals, miss sleep, drop whatever you were doing to follow him wherever he went. To stay by Alastor's side. 

When he forbade you from doing so, you would follow in secret, or have your own little ways to spy on him. To know what he was doing.

The few times you were away from your owner's side, you could be found standing over a dead sinner. Maybe someone who touched him, maybe someone he mentioned, maybe someone who simply glanced at him for far too long for your liking. Regardless, they were all equally deserving of death in your eyes. How dare they.

Alastor knew of these, of course. And while he was quickly growing suffocated by your constant overbearing presence, he hadn't really bothered to say much.

He still preferred this—this grotesque reflection of his own affections for you—over your defiant little attitude before.

His last straw, however, was now. When you stood over yet another sinner. The light gone from their eyes as you still, repeatedly, shot at their corpse.

The green chain appeared in his clenched fist for the first time in a long while. The collar snapped shut around your neck, but you hadn't even noticed until he gave it a harsh yank.

You were pulled to the side, stumbling over the body by your feet. You looked up, confused, to see Alastor snarling down at you.

"I needed him alive, dear." He said, his annoyance barely kept under control.

"He touched you." You merely replied, as if it was the worst offense, worst sin, in Hell.

"Because we were making a deal, you stupid pest!" Alastor hissed through his teeth, but you merely blinked at him as if you didn't see his point still.

You stood up straighter, keeping your eyes on him. Always on him.

He was so beautiful, so perfect. Everything you needed.

Why had you ever wanted to find anyone more?

"But he still held your hand."

"I'll touch who I want to touch. Do not forget who holds the leash here." His eyes narrowed, chain pulling taught between you.

You smiled at him, loving the way his voice sounded when he was getting angry. It rarely happened now considering how good you were for him, but oh, did it sound like music to you.

Your hands lifted to softly run your hands through the chain by your neck. "You do, of course. I don't question that."

"I need you, Al." You added, soft, almost loving expression on your face as your adored his furious red eyes. "And while I can't force you to stay with me, alone. I can simply just get rid of everyone else. I can be your only one, if I'm the only one left."

"So you've finally flew off the handle, dearest?" His question seemed genuine, not at all in jest.

But you laughed anyway, as if it was the funniest thing ever. "And what if I have?" You grinned at him. "What will you do? Run from me?"

Your fingers gripped the chain suddenly, yanking yourself forward, closer to him. You feel his pull against the chain as well, not to bring you close but simply to keep hold of it. To keep hold of his control over you.

Your eyes lowered, admiring him from up close now. The flicker of uncertainty in his eyes was new, and you couldn't wait to see more new things from him now that you're so devastatingly devoted to him.

"You own me, remember? I'm here forever."

[rewh0re]

THE SOULMATE THEORY ; MIKAGE REO

- wc: 1.1k, aged up characters (like 19-20) doesn't dive into explicit/hardcore smut but is definitely suggestive in some parts so I'd say readers 16 and above may read this, indirect mentions of sexual activities, fluff, reader is called a minx (affectionate), a little bit of that one old greek myth about soulmates, it's true that once you use em dash you can't stop.

a/n: literally got the idea at the doctor's office don't even. REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!! also tagging: @chigirizzz (this is that one reo fic I was telling you about where you asked me to tag you)

The room was dark. The only source of light—though bright but not enough to light up the whole room—was from the digital clock on the bedside table. '12:42,’ it read in bright neon red numbers. It was also quiet, so much so that two pairs of steady breathings could be heard.

One belonged to Reo and the other, to you.

"Are you asleep?" You whisper—soft and delicate—careful as to not wake your lover up if he indeed was asleep but loud enough to let him know of your own sleepless state.

Your eyes have been long adjusted to the darkness and you can make out the silhouette of his face. The length of his nose and his eyelashes, the slight part of his lush lips, his sharp and angular jaw—truly—he was majestic.

"No," his eyes fluttered open and his lips turned upward. His smile, the gentleness of which never failed to make your heart beat ten times faster, which never failed to make your stomach feel all giddy with the butterflies that erupted.

"I was thinking about your face from earlier and the various sounds you made too actually. Sweet as honey to me but I'm afraid Mrs. Tanaka might complain come morning," gentle tone was overruled by mischief. That was Mikage Reo, a gem of a person for a second and a force to be reckoned with the next.

"Please don't oh my god," you covered your face—now tinted with embarrassment—with the comforter you and Reo shared as you whined in protest.

The activities from an hour back rushing into your brain, playing like a movie sequence. As foggy as your mind was earlier, you were surprised that you remembered everything so vividly. You could still feel his rough, calloused and much larger hands tracing every curve of your body as if to memorise its shape. You could feel the lingering kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your chest, the now purple marks left with pride. You would have to cover them before work in the morning. You could hear your own sounds of pleasure and his groans as if to say more, more, more. You could feel it all. You could feel him. Your face flushed a deeper shade of fuchsia as you gulped, trying to get the images out of your head.

"You act like we haven't done this a million times before my love," he laughed slowly, bringing a hand to cover his mouth.

"Come on, look at me. Don't shy away now," he pulled the blanket off of you, removing your hands from your face as he hugged you.

"You're incorrigible, you know that right?" You huffed out in faux annoyance, snuggling against his chest, his arms a veil for your figure.

He laughed then, a laugh full of mischief and adoration and something akin to acknowledgement for your previous statement.

You laid like that, in silence. There was peace that came with the soft lub-dub of your synchronised heartbeats and your gentle breaths.

You were the one to break it first.

"Have you ever heard about that one Greek mythology? about soulmates?" You spoke, your cool fingers tracing gentle and soothing shapes on Reo's bare back which was painted with scratches from your nails.

"Can't say I have. Care to tell me?" He looked for your eyes as he pulled up the slipping comforter before pulling you closer to his chest. His warmth engulfed you whole, a comfortable shield from the much cooler surroundings.

"Well there is this theory," you started, face softening into affection as you laid against Reo's—albeit hard—but comfortable chest.

"It says that when Zeus created humans, he originally created them with two of everything. So two heads, two pairs of both the limbs, you get it. Their souls were one too. Fearing the power that these humans could possess, Zeus split them, including their souls, in half and scattered them around the world. The humans—as we now know them to be—would search far and wide, across oceans and lands to look for their other half. It is said that this other half is your soulmate and you search for them throughout your life," you smiled as you looked up at him, engrossed in your little story.

"Well that's just cruel of Zeus now, isn't it? I mean, what if someone doesn't find their soulmate?" Reo pouted and that made you chuckle a little.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It is just a story at the end of the day and how you decide to perceive a story totally depends on you," you jabbed his chest with your finger.

"I think I've found my other half," he stated with pride.

"Oh? Is that so? I wonder who it could be," you made a face as if you were thinking, tapping your chin with your forefinger.

"Oh I bet you do," in an instant your boyfriend was hugging you tighter than ever, his face buried in the crook between your neck and your shoulder.

His soft kisses were ticklish and they made you giggle. Your fingers further messed up his already tousled hair.

"You want me to say it out loud so bad don't you, you little minx," he whispered in your neck as you hummed in response.

"I think I've found my soulmate in you."

"I also think I've found mine in you Reo," your gentle voice was like ambrosia to his ears. He could drown in it, a bit was never enough.

He trailed kisses down the side of your face, starting from your ear, going down your jaw and finally a little bite on your neck. He licked on it in order to soothe the area. A new addition to the marks he had left earlier.

"Ow Reo!" You playfully smacked his head which forced him to separate from your neck.

"I already have enough marks to cover!" You puffed your cheek, barely hiding the smile that was begging to come up to the surface.

"You'll beg for them again tomorrow," he winked at you.

You could only roll your eyes. What would you even say? Deep in your heart, even you knew that he was right. "What is wrong with you?"

"Just that I'm irrevocably in love with you," he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, shutting his eyes.

"Unfortunately, I happen to love you too."

Teasing glances from your coworkers and friends due to the remnants from the events of the night would be a concern for later. For now, sleep would come easy to you because here you were, with Reo, in his arms. He was your safe haven and you were his and truly, whatever in the world could ever change that?