#he's just a little bit emotionally tilted it's fine

[timewontwait]

oh the things i do to him...

[wolverigrl]

You telling Hugh not to shave bc you love his beard so much and in other ways and y'all are just being giggly and cute together

The Beard Dilemma

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: I had fun writing this one, so I hope you'll giggle too!

Warnings: none

Enjoy!

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I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Hugh in front of the mirror as he slowly dragged the razor across his cheek. His beard - my beard - was disappearing, and I couldn’t help but let out a dramatic whine.

"Really? You’re shaving it off?" I said, the disappointment clear in my voice as I stepped closer.

He glanced at me through the mirror, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

"You make it sound like I’m committing a crime."

"Worse! You’re getting rid of my beard!" I pouted, stepping into the bathroom and leaning against the sink.

"I’ve grown attached to it. Literally and emotionally."

He chuckled, rinsing the razor under the tap. "Didn’t realize we were in a love triangle - me, you, and the beard. Should I be worried?"

"I think so." I said, reaching out and brushing my fingers through the remaining scruff on his jaw.

"It gives you a certain rugged, manly thing. Like you could just chop down a tree with your bare hands."

He tilted his head, meeting my gaze with a grin.

"A tree? Bare hands? Quite the fantasy you’ve got there."

"Well, I can’t help it. You give off serious ‘I’m about to go chop wood and then fix the cabin’ energy. And now you’re… smooth." I sighed dramatically, dragging a finger down his now-smooth cheek.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Oh, I don’t know." He turned, that playful spark in his eyes. "Maybe kiss it? Appreciate my baby-soft skin?"

I snorted. "Baby-soft? Maybe after an exfoliant. Right now, you’re like, freshly peeled potato smooth."

He laughed, the sound deep and rumbling as he set the razor down.

"A potato? Wow. First Wolverine, now a vegetable."

I shrugged, fighting the smile creeping up my face. "What can I say? I like my men starchy."

"Oh, is that it? I shave and suddenly I’ve lost all my wild, masculine appeal?" He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, his hands finding my waist.

"Might have." I teased, but my voice softened as he pulled me in. "I liked the rugged edge."

"Rugged, huh?" His voice dropped, brushing his lips against my ear. "Pretty sure I can still manage rugged."

I shivered, biting back a grin as I let him get close.

"Doubtful. I mean, how am I supposed to take you seriously as my lumberjack now?"

He laughed again, warm breath against my neck. "A lumberjack, huh? Want me to go outside, grab an axe, and prove it to you?"

"You’d have to. I need proof!" I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"How else am I going to keep being attracted to you?"

His hands slid up my sides, pulling me closer. "Maybe I should remind you of all the other reasons."

"Oh yeah?" I raised a brow, trying to play it cool despite the way his voice sent a pleasant hum through me. "Like what?"

He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine, his freshly shaven cheek grazing my skin. "Like this?"

I pretended to consider it, lips quirking.

"Hmm.. I don’t know, that’s only one point in your favor."

He smirked, leaning in a little more.

"I can think of a few more. Want me to list them?"

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh, but the playful tension between us was impossible to ignore. "I mean, you could list them, but I’m a woman of action, Hugh."

"Oh, I’m well aware." His voice was a deep murmur, eyes dark with amusement. "And here I thought you liked me for my charm, my acting skills, and… my potato face."

I burst out laughing at that, shaking my head. "Okay, okay, I’ll give you that one. The smooth face isn’t all bad."

"Just ‘not all bad’? Come on, I think I deserve more credit!" he teased, tilting his head down to kiss the corner of my mouth, slow and deliberate.

"Fine.." I murmured against his lips. "You’re still very hot. But I miss the beard!"

He pulled back just enough to smirk at me. "You really have a thing for the scruff, don’t you?"

"Yeah, I do!" It makes you look dangerous! Like you’d rescue me from a burning building and then carry me off into the wilderness." I bit my lip again, this time more on purpose.

He laughed softly, his forehead resting against mine. "Wilderness? Now I’m starting to wonder what kind of man you think I am."

"The hot, wilderness-surviving, tree-chopping kind." I said with a grin, leaning into him. "What, don’t think you can handle it?"

His hand slid up my back, and his voice dropped into that low, teasing tone that always made my stomach flip.

"Oh, I think I could handle a lot more than you realize!"

I raised an eyebrow, lips curving. "Yeah? Prove it."

We held each other’s gaze for a moment, the playful flirtation simmering between us, both daring the other to break first. Then he lifted me effortlessly, and I let out a surprised laugh as he spun me once, setting me down carefully on the counter.

"Still rugged enough for you?" he asked, his hands resting on my thighs, his grin cocky.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, tugging him closer, my lips brushing his. L

"I guess you’ve still got it." I murmured, feeling his breath hitch just slightly.

He smiled, his forehead pressing against mine as we shared a moment of quiet, playful intimacy.

"You’re trouble, you know that?"

I grinned, tugging him down for another kiss. "You wouldn’t have it any other way."

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Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

[moonstruckme]

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 

“Hi,��� you say, looking apprehensive. 

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return. 

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 

“You’ve caught me.” 

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

[the-mandawhor1an]

My favorite pillow - Jackson!Joel Miller x Reader drabble

disclaimer: the picture above is to set the mood, you can imagine reader to look however you want

Tags: Safe for work! Established relationship; Joel is riddled with guilt; lots of cuddling; pet names;  reader’s gender isn’t specified but they have boobs; Reader is basically Joel’s plushie; angst! and fluff; one allusion to sex but it’s tame I swear

Synopsis: Joel feels the weight of guilt clouding his mind one evening. You feel the weight of him over you, trying to soothe his worries. 

Words: 900

A/N: Unbeta'd; The teaser trailer is to blame here. also, thank @djarins-wife for screaming at me in the DMs after the trailer dropped and motivating me to turn this: 

“I need him. on top of me, engulfed in a death grip cuddle, head on my chest and I can play with his hair and he tells me about all of his worries 😭”

into a drabble

Divider as always by @saradika-graphics

It’s an evening like any other, you think. Things have been a bit different since Joel and Ellie returned, but today seems to be a particularly bad day for him. You had dinner and now you’re in bed, cuddled into his side while he draws small circles on your back. As much as you want to fall asleep and feel yourself drift off, something about Joel bothers you. The way his digits brush over your skin, his breathing that is steady but somehow labored. 

You lift your heavy eyelids and nuzzle more into his chest. “Joel?” you ask him gently. He answers with a “Mh?” but his voice cracks. Carefully, you sit up straight and detach from his warm body. The barely lit room doesn’t offer much for you to see, but his head is faced away from you. “Joel, look at me. What’s going on?” 

After a short while of hesitation, he faces you. The moonlight enters the room just right for you to see some tears sparkling in his eyes. Your heart aches. What could worry him so much that he would lie there in silence and just… hurt? 

“Baby what’s wrong?” you ask again and gently place a hand on his heart. “Nothin’, I’m fine,” he tries to brush you off. With a tilted head you shoot him a more prying look in hopes to make him tell you.  

With a sigh you lie down on your back and pat on your chest. “C’mere big boy, tell me what’s bothering you.” He sighs deeply himself and turns over. Two giant hands bury under your back as he rests his body on top of you. His head lands on your chest, his torso presses you into the mattress. 

“I don’t understand why I feel so awful about saving Ellie…” he begins. You place one hand on his back, the other on his head to dip your fingers into the silver-brown curls. You play with his hair as he closes his eyes. 

“Well, what goes through your head when you think about it?” you ask. 

“I – I don’t know,” he sighs. “When Marlene told me Ellie would die in the process, I just saw red.” You feel him tense up as the memories replay in his mind. He pulls himself closer into your embrace. “She could’a saved the world but that means I would lose her.” You feel his chest press into yours as his breathing becomes heavier. 

“I can’t lose her, I can’t let go. Fuck,” he starts sobbing, every little hiccup hurts you, not physically but emotionally. “I couldn’t lose another daughter. Sarah was my baby and I was unable to protect her,” he continues as you feel his tears on your skin. You caress his back and keep combing your fingers through his hair, but you stay silent.  

“I thought… having gotten used to this shithole of a world would make it easier for me to look after Ellie. I failed. She’ll hate me for lying to her.” You bend your neck to place a kiss on the top of his hair. “She’ll leave when she finds out. When she realizes I wasn’t strong enough to let her go, to sacrifice herself for a fuckin’ maybe.” 

It’s obvious it weighs him down, it destroys him. You let him cry in your arms, not doing much beside gently running your fingers along his scalp. If he needs to get all of that out, you want him to feel safe to do so. Joel isn’t one to show emotions like this often, he feels like it makes him appear weak. He can be weak with you, vulnerable. 

After a few minutes of Joel just sobbing into your chest, his breathing steadies and he finds his voice again. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess and an awful father.” You shake your head. “Stop it, you’re neither. You did what any father would do, protect his child.” “I hope she sees it the same way.” 

Your fingers trail down to his face and you caress his cheek. “Will you tell her?” “Maybe one day, I don’t know” With an unsteady sigh that still reminds you of his sobbing, he nuzzles into you once again. 

“Am I too heavy?” he asks. It’s like he just now realizes that he’s been lying on you for the last minutes. “It’s fine,” you remind him with a smug expression. “Ain’t the first time you’re on top of me.” His face turns toward you, an equally smug grin on his. “Won’t be the last either, Sugar.” 

“Does that mean you feel better, Baby?” You ask hesitantly. If he’s up for joking he has to feel somewhat okay. “Think so. Keep forgettin’ how good cuddling feels,” he murmurs. “I love it when you hug me like a pillow,” you tell him. And he does indeed hug his pillows like that. It was amusing when you saw him nestled into it like that for the first time. 

“You’re my favorite pillow,” he nods. “Well, right now you’re not really pillowed by anything,” you comment. Technically, his head rests on your sternum, his face is almost buried in one of your boobs. 

“My face is,” he grumbles into your breast and places a kiss on your skin. “Okay, okay,” you sigh. “All better?” 

“All better.” 

“Do you want to stay like this?” 

“If I may.” 

“Of course you do.” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too, Baby.” 

[insomniasdelusion]

Astro with a reader who sleeps a lot!

Reader x Astro

Warning: none, complete and pure fluff!

————————————

•Astro

The moon toon here also tends to sleep a little more than the others! Whenever he finds you curled up in your room, eyes closed, slow breathing, and just snoozing away. He happily climbs into bed to rest with you, wrapping his bottom arms wrapped around your waist, upper arms lacing his hands with yours.

At first in the relationship he was a little too shy, he’d give a small smile, a kiss on your head, and then would walk out.

he always makes sure that you have good dreams, he would never intentionally want to cause you harm! Emotionally or physically.

Although, he would get concerned sometimes- why do you sleep so much..? Are you not getting enough rest? Do you not feel well? Is something wrong? He would want you to be okay, but if you assure him that it’s just how you are and it’s just kinda a cycle of tiredness!

He calms down after that, no longer too worried but sometimes he’ll carefully shake you awake juuuust to make sure. If you wake up and stay awake he’ll apologize, just reassure him that it’s fine and you don’t mind! Maybe cuddles for extra reassurance?

The only downside to you sleeping all day is.. your a giant night owl, up all night doing whatever- and when it hits sunrise you waddle either to your own room to rest or Astro’s room to snuggle up with him to go back to go to sleep.

Now he didn’t realize this until one day he got woken up by the fire alarm with all the other toons because you and Cosmo set the kitchen aflame- you and the swiss roll had sheepishly apologized after some of the others scolding and Shrimpo’s yelling of ‘I HATE FIRE!’.

Astro had asked you why you were up and you explained to him that this was actually when you were usually awake! And you just didn’t want to ruin Astro’s sleep schedule so he could hang out with you.

The blue moon had blinked in surprise, it was sweet but at the same time- he didn’t mind, he’d like to be able to spend more time with you, and if that costed a little bit if his own sleep schedule? Then he guessed that was the price.

Although, he did try and help you get rest a normal time so it could be a little healthier. He’s willing to stay up with you always, but he is also going to be making sure a little more effort of a sleep schedule is put forth!

“Starshine.. what are you doing..?” Astro’s soft barely above a whisper voice called out, tilting his at you as the grip on his blanket around him loosened.

“I’m making a bracelet! Scraps has been teaching me!” You chirped back, excited and lively despite the (real) moon hanging in the sky.

“Oh..? Could I see?” He asks.

“Not yet, it’s a surprise silly” you giggled back.

“A surprise? For who..?” Astro hummed.

Turning around, you waddled closer to your boyfriend, you had put the last finishing touches on it. It was a pretty beaded bracelet with a mix of blues and purples, as well as the occasional pale yellow bead added with a moon charm that had a hanging heart attached!

“For you! I had asked scraps to teach me how to make bracelets so I could make you one..” you squeaked, bashful. Holding the bracelet out to him so he could take it.

He blinks in surprise.. you made this for.. him? His cheeks heated into a pretty sapphire blue, making his starry freckles glow softly, he looked like he had the night sky on his cheeks! It made you melt slightly inside, your own face feeling hot and your heart beating faster at how star-struck he looked.

“You.. made this? ..for me?” He whispered, carefully taking the beaded bracelet holding it like it was glass instead or plastic. He looked down at it taking every detail in, his tails wagging much like a dog’s would but that was a really rare sight for him!

“Well.. yeah! It’s to let you know how much I love you! And even though I sleep a lot that doesn’t mean your any less important to me, I love you so much I’d be fine if the sun never came out again if it means I get to keep you here with me!” You tell him, it was a little cheesy yes.. but it was how you felt!

“..I love you to starlight..” he whispered back, gently slipping the bracelet on and walking towards you to embrace you tightly, he smelled like vanilla and he oddly cool to the touch but you wouldn’t have it any other way as you wrapped your arms around him as well.

“I love you Astro.”

“I’ll love you forever my moonlight.. until the stars stop shining and even more after that..” he whispered back, gently squeezing you as he burst his face into your head.

—————————————————————

This was a little self indulgent- I do love the moon boy a lot tho <33

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Hello! I don't know if you're still taking requests, but if you do, could I please request an imagine where the reader and eddie are best friends and the reader gets really injured when Venom is in a fight, bonus points if eddie has to do cpr to revive her. Thank you so so much!

~Hazard of Our Friendship~

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: drowning mention, knives, graphic depictions of violence

Genre: fluffy angst

Summary: Your best friend has a symbiotic alien sharing his body which means sometimes he gets attacked while you're just trying to discuss a movie.

A/N: Oh darling my asks are always open~! xo hope you like it!

***

You scoff as you listen to Eddie talk. You can't believe what he's saying.

"You're crazy! You seriously think that was better than the second one?" You ask incredulously.

"I think each movie gets better than the last." Eddie says.

"What're you smoking and how do I get some because you are clearly on something." You snort.

"I liked it I don't see the problem." He shrugs.

"That's not the question though! I liked it too but it's NOT better than the second one was!" You shake your head.

"You do this every time we see one of these movies." Eddie chuckles.

"Because the second was the best! It's in a league of its own they're never gonna do better than that." You say.

"Okay fine ye of little faith and quick judgment- what could they do to make the next movie better than the second movie?" Eddie rolls his eyes playfully.

"The second movie was just iconic! When they realize and manage to replicate the intensity with which that movie hit emotionally, they'll have another masterpiece. It's not about duplicating though, they shouldn't repeat the plot, they just need to figure out how to create a similar pull. That's what I'm looking for I need a pull and the newer movies just haven't been pulling me."

"You're insane you know that?"

"I think you need to rewatch the second movie. Clearly you aren't properly remembering the absolute magic of the second movie dude." You shake your head.

"Clearly." He snorts. A moment passes and notice something change abruptly in your friend's demeanor.

"What?" You frown at him.

"What?" He snaps his head towards you.

"Your energy shifted, something changed. Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing." He says quickly.

"You're on edge. I can see it so don't lie to me. Especially because you're starting to stress me out." You tell him.

"Venom's a little- freaked. He thinks we've got company." Eddie admits.

"Not the good kind I'm guessing. Based on your... disposition."

"Just- stay close, it'll be fine." Eddie says gently resting his hand on your arm. He's clearly on high alert, eyes scanning every darkened alley you walk by. You catch movement off to one side and grab Eddie's attention.

"E- could those be our visitors?" You ask. Eddie follows your eye.

"Fuck me- it's fine, just stay behind me." Eddie steps forward and uses his arm to nudge you behind him.

"Come on Eddie, they're just some guys. This should be easy." You say.

"Unfortunately if they've come for me it's never just some guys." Eddie sighs. "Look guys- I'm sure you don't want any trouble, whatever you think you're gonna gain from this, you'll lose a lot more- trust me." Eddie tells the group. There's maybe 5 of them it seems, but you can't be sure others aren't lurking nearby.

"Yeah- that's the bastard." One of the guys grumbles and Eddie's eyebrow furrows.

"Wait sorry- do you know me or something?" Eddie asks, tilting his head.

"You fucking jackass-" The guy is clearly appalled by Eddie's perceived audacity and starts towards you and Eddie.

"Venom." Eddie calls.

"COPY." Venom replies before overtaking Eddie. You step back a bit to accommodate the size change. Also to give him room, Venom's fighting style is- messy from what you know.

You've never actually seen them fight, although Eddie didn't try to hide Venom from you, he was very intentional about limiting your exposure to him. You're not totally sure why, but it doesn't stop you from making nice with him. Eddie swears the relationship between them is mostly symbiotically beneficial, which means he'll probably be around for a while. Which means he'll be around you for a while, and you want that to be a net positive. So you always ask about him and include him in your relationship with Eddie, and bring him chocolate any time you hang out with them. Eddie swears you spoil him so you hope that means he likes you.

Venom seems to be handling the fight pretty well, I mean he can grow appendages at will, no matter how many of them there are, they can't outmatch him.

"You're coming with me." A gruff voice says wrapping a hand around your wrist.

You snap your head around quickly.

"Fuck off. Don't touch me." You take your index and middle finger and jam them into the inner corners of his eyes.

He screams as you dig your digits in deeper.

"You're ruining movie night." You drag him forward by his eye sockets and bash his head into your knee knocking him out. "Asshole." You huff.

"Eulgch gross now my hand is covered in eye juice." You frown. You bend over and wipe your hand on his shirt.

"That's better I guess." You say stepping over the guy to wear Venom has dragged the fight, near the pier.

"Not so fast." A voice grits out behind you as arms encircle your body, trapping you.

"Hey let go of me you bastard." You grunt squirming against his hold.

Your movements stop abruptly with a sharp gasp when you feel cool metal against your throat. A knife.

"Really? An 8 foot monster is stomping out your little pals and you go for the one who isn't doing shit? Coward." You scoff.

"Shut up." He spits through clenched teeth.

"Eddie!" You call out. "No rush but when you get a second some help would be nice! VENOM!" You shout, the blade digging ever so slightly into your skin.

Venom snaps his head towards you and immediately changes his focus, heading towards you and the person holding you hostage.

Your captor walks you backwards as Venom closes in but as he reaches an appendage towards you one of the others pulls out a flamethrower. Where did he get a fucking flamethrower?!

"Venom look out!" You shout but you're not quick enough.

The fire hits him. He lets out a roar of a sound. And then retreats into Eddie, who falls to his knees.

"Eddie?!" You call frantically.

"I'm fine! Just- gotta give Venom time to recover." Eddie grunts.

"If you're fine get up and turn around you dumbass!" You shout. The guy with the flamethrower is closing in on Eddie, luckily he's dropped the thing. Not really a smart move in your opinion but it makes Eddie's chances of beating him without Venom higher.

Eddie spins on his heel just in time to dodge a wild swing from mister flamethrower.

"Woah. Shit." Eddie says. He punches the guy directly in the face and the two start a proper fist fight.

"Hang on y/n I'll be right there!" He tells you between throwing and dodging punches.

"Yeah, I wasn't planning on going anywhere!" You say.

"Could do without the sass at this moment dude!" He says.

"I've got a knife to my throat I'll do whatever I want to cope with it!" You shoot back.

"Sorry about all this!"

"Hazard of our friendship! I know how this goes!" You say.

Eddie finally takes down his opponent and turns to you. He runs in your direction, Venom at some point taking over and freaking out your captor. For a guy holding a knife to your throat he's moving incredibly reckless, stumbling backwards and dragging you with him. Right over the edge of the pier. You scream as you fall back, at least you've been released it seems. Your assailant, in trying to save himself has freed you from his grasp.

The water is a bit chilly, it's not as bad as it could be, but it is only August so it'd be weird if it was ice cold. Water fills your mouth as you sink below the surface. You try to swim up, but the other guy wraps his hand around your leg. You can't swim super well as is, the extra weight hindering your movement pretty much renders your attempt to save yourself futile. Still you flail and desperately kick at your attacker's hand, hoping that you can get him to let you go before your lungs give out. They're already starting to seriously burn.

You hate open water. Besides the fact that you're nowhere near a strong enough swimmer based on the dangers of open water like this, you can't see anything and not knowing what lurks nearby stresses you out even more.

You're starting to panic. The longer you're down here, the more undersea monsters you seem to be able to imagine. You're going to die down here and some random swimming creatures will start eating your decaying flesh and your family won't even have a body to bury when they have your funeral. Or if they manage to find you, you'll be so destroyed by critters they'll have to keep the casket closed. Honestly at this point you hope they cremate you.

The panicking isn't helping. You know it's not, and yet it's all you can do as your vision is starting to blacken around the edges. You still can't get this guy to let go of your fucking leg, and dammit you're getting too weak to keep fighting him. How is he still holding on? You feel your body go limp as you lose consciousness.

Eddie's heart drops as he watches you go over the edge of the pier. You can barely swim, you hate the open water, he has to get you out of there and fast. The only problem is it feels like these goons keep multiplying and if they have to keep fighting he'll never reach you in time.

"We have to get to y/n." Eddie says.

"WE WILL." Venom says ready to fight the next guy.

"No, now V! Fuck the fighting I don't care eat them if you have to. Just get to her!"

"GREAT PLAN." Venom's smile is enough to freak out the person standing between them and where you're currently drowning.

Eddie's counting the seconds as Venom traipses towards the water, biting off heads on the way. There's not even enough movement near the surface for Eddie to tell if you're still alive down there. It's taking you two long to come up.

"YOUR STRESS IS MAKING THIS MORE DIFFICULT EDDIE."

"I'll stop stressing when we get y/n out of the fucking water!" Eddie snaps.

"FINE!" Venom dives into the water and manages to find you surprisingly quickly, dragging your lifeless body out of the water.

"Put her down we have to do something." Eddie says.

"WHAT DO WE DO?" Venom asks.

"You watch my back while I try to remember my high school CPR class." Eddie tells him, kneeling beside you.

Pressure.

There's a pressure against your chest.

It's rhythmic, consistent, and just a couple of pascals short of risking a broken rib.

Your nose is pinched and something touches your lips. Air flows into your mouth in bursts and then again with the pressure.

Suddenly you feel water coming up and you lurch forward to expell it, coughing painfully as your body tries to get rid of the water forced into your lungs when you nearly drowned.

"God drowning sucks." You choke out, your voice coming out very raspy and it honestly hurts to say even that short sentence.

"Thank fuck." Eddie sighs, his shoulders dropping in relief.

"YOU'RE ALIVE! EDDIE WE SAVED HER." Venom pokes his head around over Eddie's shoulder.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Eddie whispers, cupping your cheek gently.

"I'm almost offended you thought I'd go out that easily." You joke, coughing again.

"Stop talking! You'll hurt yourself." Eddie says.

"Oh would you relax. I'm not dead, talking won't do me in." You roll your eyes.

"YOU SOUND LIKE YOU ARE IN PAIN." Venom says.

"Thanks V." You snort.

"Venom she just almost drowned dude." Eddie shakes his head.

"I AM TRYING TO CHECK ON HER. WHAT IS THE PROBLEM!?"

"Nothing's wrong. Don't you two start. Just- can you take me home?" You groan forcing yourself up. Eddie scrambles to his feet, helping you up until eventually Venom simply takes over and lifts you into his arms.

"Venom I'm pretty sure I can still walk ya know." You say, admittedly a bit nervous in his hold. Not that you think he'll drop you, you've just never interacted with him so directly.

"YOU SHOULDN'T STRAIN YOURSELF. AND WE ARE TAKING YOU TO OUR APARTMENT."

"What? Why?"

"SO WE CAN TAKE CARE OF YOU WHILE YOU GET BETTER."

"Get better? All I need to do is shower and go to sleep, I'll be fine." You scoff.

"EDDIE WANTS TO SEE THAT FOR HIMSELF."

"You're very lucky I don't have any more energy to argue about all this." You mutter.

Eddie counts his blessings when he hears that. Of course it would take you nearly drowning to finally allow him to look after you. Little victories he supposes. Granted saving your life is definitely way more than a little victory. You are the single most important person in his life. If he wasn't sure of that before this he's absolutely sure of it now.

***

[fraugwinska]

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

[leona-hawthorne]

heyyy, i’d like to browse for a book? i’m looking for something… blaise zabini. maybe a mix of fluff and smut?like “if you fuck me the way you fuck me up emotionally, i think you’d do a pretty damn good job at it.” and/or him taking your hand and placing it on his chest. “feel this heartbeat? this is the effect you have on me." luv luv luv ur writing and take all the time u need ✌️✌️

YAYYY i've never written for blaise before so thank u sm for requesting this!!! also I got your other request about you wanting opposites attract so don't worry bb 💝

1k celebration navigation

18+ warnings ; smut , unprotected piv , virgin!reader

DEAL?... book browsing

ミ★ BLAISE ZABINI

You could already feel the bass thudding in your ribcage as you stepped into the dark, crowded club, the flashing lights casting a haze over the room. Blaise’s arm stayed protectively around you, his touch warm and steady as he guided you through the jostling crowd. As much as you wanted to blend in, to just enjoy this night with him and his friends, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Blaise, with his effortless calm and air of fun, looked completely in his element, but every minute you spent here made you feel like you were intruding on a world you didn’t belong to.

For a while, you tried to focus on him, on his low chuckle when one of his friends cracked a joke, or the way he seemed so relaxed, his fingers holding yours reassuringly, the scent of his cologne. But the longer you were there, the more the crowded room started to close in around you, the crush of people pressing in on all sides. You tried to shake it off, telling yourself to be cool, to just enjoy the night for Blaise’s sake. But your hand started to clench around the drink he’d handed you, and you caught yourself glancing toward the door, longing for the fresh air.

He caught you looking around, noticing the slight way you stiffened whenever someone bumped into you. “Hey,” he murmured, leaning close so you could hear him. “You alright?” Blaise’s voice was low in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the pounding music. He glanced down at you, his eyes soft but with a hint of amusement, as if he could already tell you were nervous.

“Yeah, of course,” you lied, forcing a smile as you took in the crowd of people pressed together, the smell of drinks and smoke hanging heavy in the air. You didn’t want to spoil his night by letting on how out of place you felt, especially since he seemed to be enjoying himself. “Just a bit loud.”

Still, your shoulders tensed every time someone brushed by too close, and you caught yourself clutching his arm a little tighter than you’d intended.

He noticed immediately. “Hey,” he murmured, leaning down a bit so you could hear him better, “we can go if you want.”

Your stomach dropped. “No, really, I’m fine!” you insisted, hating the idea of being a burden. “Your friends are here, and you don’t have to—”

“Y/N,” he cut in, his gaze softening as he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have to anything. I want to make sure you’re comfortable. If this isn’t your thing, it’s not a big deal.”

You hesitated, trying to shake off the pang of guilt. “I just… I know you have fun here, and I don’t want to be the one who drags you away.”

His expression shifted, something almost unreadable flickering across his face, and he tilted his head with that soft smile that made your heart stutter. “If you’re not having fun,” he said gently, “then I’m not either. Come on, let’s go.”

That was all the assurance you needed. Within minutes, the two of you had slipped out of the club and into the cool night air. As you drove in silence back to his flat, you tried to organize your thoughts, the guilt from earlier bubbling up again as you replayed the night in your mind.

Once you reached the quiet comfort of his living room, the words tumbled out of you in a rush. “I’m so sorry, Blaise,” you said, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, not meeting his gaze. “I feel like such a buzzkill. That whole scene… it’s just not really my thing. You must get so frustrated with me sometimes.”

Blaise sighed, moving closer until you couldn’t avoid his eyes anymore. “Frustrated?” he repeated, as if the idea was completely foreign. “If you’re not enjoying yourself, then neither am I. It’s that simple.”

You shook your head, laughing softly despite yourself. “I don’t know, you just… you fit there, you know? You’re so relaxed, like nothing ever phases you. Meanwhile, I’m… just standing in the corner like an idiot,” you sighed. “I didn’t mean to be a killjoy, I just–”

“Hey.” He took your hand, drawing it to his chest, pressing it firmly over his heartbeat. “Feel that?” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “Feel this heartbeat? That’s the effect you have on me. You ground me, even in the middle of all that noise. So, trust me when I say, I don’t care where we are—if you’re there, that’s all that matters.”

For a moment, you could only stare at him, completely taken aback by the warmth and sincerity in his gaze. The steady beat beneath your hand seemed to echo through you, grounding you just as much as he’d said you did for him. In that moment, you realized he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. He meant every word.

"Blaise," you whispered, feeling the need to respond, to acknowledge the depth of what he'd just shared. But no words came, because what could you possibly say in return?

Instead, you found yourself leaning in, drawn to him like a magnet. His lips were so close now, tempting you, and you knew if you closed the gap, there would be no going back. Not that you wanted to. 

Your pulse quickened as you leaned in closer, the air between you charged with tension. He waited, giving you space to take the lead, but his eyes never left yours, dark and intense. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper, laced with nerves and something deeper, more primal.

“I still feel bad that you had to leave your friends,” you murmured, biting your lip as you held his gaze. “Maybe... maybe I can make it up to you. Another way.” 

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. His breath hitched slightly, a flash of desire crossing his features before he schooled them into a neutral mask. But you could see the effect they had on him, the way his pupils dilated, the subtle tightening of his jaw.

“Is that so?” he replied, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no turning back now. You reached up, trailing your fingers along his jawline, marveling at the smoothness of his skin. His eyes followed the movement, fixated on your touch.

Before you could second-guess yourself, Blaise leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips as he whispered, "Don't overthink it." Then, slowly, torturously, he closed the distance between you, his mouth finding yours in a tender kiss that sent sparks racing through your veins.

As you melted into each other, the rest of the world fell away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, gazes locked in a silent understanding.

He stepped closer, backing you up against the wall as he dipped his head to brush his lips along the column of your throat. Each press of his mouth sent shivers cascading down your spine, your pulse fluttering wildly under his tongue.

"Tell me what you want," he breathed against your skin, the command laced with promise. His hands skimmed up your sides, thumbs grazing the underside of your tits as he waited for your answer. Blaise was a patient man, but even he had his limits, and right now, he was close to snapping.

"I..." You swallowed hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts. What did you want? Anything. Everything. Him. "I want..."

He paused, pulling back enough to meet your eyes, his own darkened with restrained hunger. "What do you want, Y/N?" he prompted again, slower this time, enunciating each syllable. His voice was rough, gravelly, sending tendrils of arousal curling through you.

"I want you," you managed to gasp out, the admission slipping past your lips before you could stop it. Your body was screaming for his touch, begging to be claimed by him. "Please, Blaise."

At your plea, he growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as his teeth grazed your collarbone. "Fuck, baby," he muttered, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh through your clothes. "You have no idea how badly I want you."

With a swift motion, he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pressed you harder against the wall. The hardness of his erection prodded insistently against your clothed core, making you whimper with need.

Without warning, he carried you down the hall, kicking open the door to his room. He tossed you onto the mattress, the springs creaking under your weight as he loomed over you, his eyes roaming hungrily across your form.

Slowly wantonly, he began to undress, peeling off his shirt to reveal the sculpted planes of his chest and abs. Your mouth went dry at the sight, your gaze tracing every dip and curve of his muscles. Next came his pants, sliding down his hips to pool at his feet, leaving him in just a pair of tight boxer briefs that did little to conceal his straining erection.

You felt your mind go blissfully blank, overwhelmed by the sheer perfection before you. Your tongue darted out to wet your suddenly parched lips, your heart thundering in your chest like a wild animal desperate to break free.

When he crawled over you, his muscular body pressing deliciously against yours, you let out a shaky sigh, arching into the contact. But then reality crashed back in, and a wave of nervousness washed over you. "Wait," you breathed, reaching up to gently grasp his arms. "I... You know I've never done this before."

Your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as you admitted your inexperience. "What if I'm bad at it?" The question tumbled out, half-hearted and uncertain.

A slow, wicked grin spread across Blaise's face at your confession, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and promise. He dipped his head, trailing kisses along your jaw until his lips hovered mere inches from your ear.

"Honestly, baby," he purred, his warm breath fanning across your skin and making you shiver. "If you can fuck me the way way you fuck me up emotionally, I think you'd do a pretty damn good job at it."

His hand slid down your side, fingers dancing teasingly along the hem of your shirt before dipping underneath to caress the soft skin of your stomach. "Don't worry," he continued, his voice dropping an octave as he pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive spot just below your earlobe. "I'll teach you. You've always been a fast learner.".

A soft gasp escaped your lips at Blaise's words, your body responding instinctively to his touch, your skin tingling where his fingers brushed against you. The notion that he would guide you, teach you, made your heart race with excitement and anticipation.

"You really think so?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in your tone was evident, but beneath it lay a spark of determination. If Blaise believed in you, then perhaps you could rise to the challenge.

Emboldened by his reassurance, you reached for the hem of your shirt, hesitating for a moment before slowly lifting it over your head and letting it fall to the side. Your breasts, pert and rounded, rose invitingly, nipples already hardened into tight peaks from the cool air and Blaise's heated gaze.

Blaise's eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over your exposed upper body, drinking in the sight of your perky tits and stiff nipples. He licked his lips, his gaze fixated on the art in front of him.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, leaning in to capture the tip between his lips. He suckled gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud while his hand palmed the other breast, thumb circling the nipple.

As he nursed at you, his other hand slid lower, pushing your skirt up around your hips to expose your thighs. His fingers trailed along the smooth skin, edging closer to your panties with each pass until finally, he hooked them with his index finger and tugged the fabric aside.

"We'll take it slow, I promise," he murmured. "I want our first time to be perfect for you."

A sharp intake of breath hitched in your throat as Blaise's mouth closed around your nipple again, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing your breast further into his warm, wet mouth. The gentle suction and flicks of his tongue had you squirming beneath him, your hands grasping at his hair to hold him close.

As his fingers danced along your inner thigh, pushing your panties to the side, you felt a rush of liquid heat dampen your folds. "Fuck, Blaise..."

"Shh, relax, love," Blaise cooed, releasing your nipple with a pop to trail open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as if savoring your scent.

One long finger glided through your slick folds, collecting the arousal coating your pussy before circling your clit in lazy strokes. You were absolutely drenched, coating his digits with your arousal. "So wet for me already," he purred, the gravelly undertone in his voice sending shivers down your spine. "I want you so badly, Y/N, he confessed roughly, grinding his clothed erection against your hipbone.” Want to feel this pussy squeezing my cock.”

A low moan spilled from your lips as Blaise's finger entered you, stretching and filling you in ways you'd never experienced before. Your walls clenched reflexively around the digit, drawing it deeper as you rocked your hips against his hand.

"Oh god, yes..." you whimpered, the sensation of his thick finger pumping in and out of your tight hole, combined with the relentless circles he drew around your clit, quickly escalating your arousal to dizzying heights.

"I... I need more," you panted, your nails digging into Blaise's shoulders as you tried to urge him on. "Please, Blaise..."

The desperation in your voice seemed to spur him on, and soon a second finger joined the first, scissoring and stretching you even wider. Blaise groaned at the feeling of your hot, velvety walls gripping his fingers like a vice. He added a third digit, pumping them faster as he watched your face contort in ecstasy.

"That's it, baby, let go," he urged, his thumb rubbing firm circles over your throbbing clit. "Come for me."

Your body tensed, back arching off the bed as the coil of pleasure in your belly snapped, sending you hurtling over the edge into blissful oblivion. You cried out Blaise's name, your pussy clamping down on his fingers as wave after wave of intense euphoria crashed over you. He worked you through it, not stopping until the last waves subsided and you collapsed bonelessly against the mattress. Blaise took a moment to admire the flush of satisfaction coloring your cheeks and the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath. 

With deft movements, he divested you of your remaining clothing–your skirt and panties joining your shirt in a pile on the floor. His own boxers followed suit shortly after, revealing his thick, hard length standing proud against his abdomen.

Positioning himself between your splayed thighs, he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your gasp as the blunt head of his cock nudged insistently at your entrance.

But then you placed a hand on his chest, halting his progress. "Wait," you whispered, suddenly looking uncertain. "I'm... I'm nervous."

Blaise cupped your face tenderly, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "Hey, just look at me," he said softly, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours. "There's no 'right' or 'wrong' here, alright? It's just us, just you and me."

He brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch soothing and reassuring. "We've got all the time in the world, love. We can stop whenever you want, okay?"

Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, pouring all his affection and understanding into the tender contact. "I want this to be special for you, Y/N. More than anything. So we take it at your pace, deal?"

Your heart swelled with emotion at Blaise's words, the sincerity in his voice and the tenderness of his touch easing some of the tension from your body. You nodded slowly, reaching up to caress his cheek.

"Okay," you murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Deal."

With renewed gentleness, Blaise resumed his position between your thighs, the tip of his cock still nestled against your slick entrance. He looked into your eyes once more, seeking permission and reassurance.

"You ready, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "I promise I'll take care of you."

At your nod, he pressed forward incrementally, allowing your body to adjust to his size. Inch by inch, he sank into your warmth, his breathing growing heavier as he savored the incredible feeling of finally being inside you.

Once he was fully sheathed, Blaise paused, giving you a moment to acclimate. Then, with exquisite slowness, he began to move, withdrawing until only the head remained inside before sliding back in, setting a leisurely rhythm designed to ease your nerves.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Blaise's thickness stretched you open, the initial intrusion causing a fleeting pinch of discomfort before gradually giving way to a pleasurable fullness. As he began to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back to draw him in deeper.

Each deliberate thrust sent ripples of sensation coursing through your core, the drag of his cock against your inner walls igniting sparks of pleasure that built with every pass. You arched into him, meeting his slow, sensual pace as you grew accustomed to the intimate connection.

"Mmh... Blaise," you breathed, your hands roaming over his back, nails scraping lightly across his skin. "Feels... amazing."

"That's it, baby," Blaise groaned, his hips rolling in time with yours as he picked up the pace slightly. "Take all of me, love."

He captured your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue twining with yours as he lost himself in the intoxicating taste and feel of you. Each thrust now carried a bit more force, but still with that same meticulous care, ensuring you were thoroughly pleasured rather than simply ravaged.

As he continued to move within you, Blaise broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh there. "You're so fucking perfect, Y/N," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "Never felt anything like this before."

Your moans mingled with Blaise's, the sound of your combined passion filling the room as he drove you higher with each powerful thrust. The new pace had you clinging to him tighter, your nails digging into his back as you sought greater friction, more of that incredible pressure building inside you.

When Blaise's teeth grazed your earlobe, you shuddered, a sharp cry escaping your throat. "Blaise..." you whimpered, your hips bucking wildly to meet his now. "Don't stop, please..."

The intensity of your emotions overwhelmed you, and you found yourself teetering on the brink of another climax, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within your core. "I'm close again," you panted, your voice strained with need. 

Blaise's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you with increasing urgency. "Come on, baby," he urged, his voice a husky growl. "Come on my cock."

He reached down to circle your clit with his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. As your orgasm crashed through you, Blaise buried his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his own shout of climax.

Your entire being seemed to fracture apart, shattering into a million brilliant pieces as the most intense orgasm of your life ripped through you. You clung to Blaise desperately, sobbing out his name as the waves of bliss threatened to drown you completely.

In the aftermath, you relaxed back into the soft sheets, utterly spent and sated beyond measure. Blaise rolled to the side, taking you with him so that you lay draped across his chest, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

After several long moments, you lifted your head to gaze up at him, a dreamy smile curving your lips. 

Blaise chuckled, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he gazed down at you adoringly. "See? That was so much more fun than being at the club with my friends," he said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Definitely the better choice tonight."

[ms-snape]

hi!! could i request a young!severus snape (in the maraurders era) where he gets drunk and is literally the oppositte of his usual self? — flirty, confident, a lot more touchy, a total tease ..

(no smut just an awkward severus turning into a flirty douche that makes your face redder then a tomato!)

Title: A Night To Remember

Warnings: a bit of angst, drunk sevvy

Words Count: 4000+

Masterlist

---

It had been a slow evening in the Slytherin common room. The usual murmur of students studying, reading, or gossiping had quieted by the time the moon had risen high in the sky, its silvery glow casting shadows on the stone walls. You sat in your usual spot, a large armchair near the fireplace, watching the flames flicker as you absentmindedly ran your fingers over the edge of a book, the pages untouched.

There was always something about the way Severus Snape acted that left you feeling like you were standing on the edge of a precipice, a foot hovering over a cliff with no way of knowing if you'd fall or fly.

You were dating Severus, though no one really knew. It wasn’t that you were ashamed—more like he was simply… private. Extremely private. And distant. Emotionally unavailable, most of the time. He was the type of person who kept his thoughts locked away, like a vault you couldn’t get into. And that was fine, really. You were used to it.

But lately, the space between you had started to feel wider. The rare moments when he would look at you with something softer in his eyes had become almost nonexistent. The little touches, the accidental brushing of hands in hallways, were reduced to nothing. And though you hadn’t spoken of it, it had been gnawing at you.

You shifted in your chair, eyes flicking to the door, waiting for him to appear. He was late—again.

But this time, when he finally walked through the door, it wasn’t the usual quiet, self-assured Snape you were used to. No, this Snape had a gleam in his eyes, a different kind of fire in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. His usually sharp features were flushed, and his step was slightly unsteady.

"Severus?" you called softly, standing up from your chair. Your heart skipped at the sight of him, at how uncharacteristically… disheveled he looked.

He stopped a few paces from you, blinking slowly as if he were trying to focus. The scent of firewhisky wafted from his robes, and your suspicion deepened. Severus Snape wasn’t the type to drink much—at least not in public, anyway. His reserved nature kept him far away from the rowdy gatherings and parties that other students indulged in.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice rougher than usual, but there was a playful edge to it. His lips curled into something almost like a smirk, but it didn’t feel cruel. In fact, it was… charming?

You tilted your head, trying to suppress the confusion rising in you. "You’ve been drinking," you observed, crossing your arms.

His eyes narrowed in a manner that was almost comical. "Really?" he asked, feigning surprise. "You think so?"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing the room slowly. “What happened? I thought you hated drinking."

"I do," he muttered, swaying a little on his feet. “But sometimes even I need… a break from my usual self."

You could hardly contain your smile. The snark, the biting wit—usually so prominent in Severus—was dulled. What was more striking, however, was that he wasn’t pulling away from you. His usual cold distance seemed to have disappeared, replaced by something warmer, though it was still unmistakably Severus. You saw him take another unsteady step toward you, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound ringing in the otherwise quiet room.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused. But then, before you could answer, he wobbled and caught himself on the edge of the table next to him, his hand resting there for balance. You stepped forward, instinctively reaching out to steady him.

Snape’s eyes flickered to your touch, then back to your face. His lips quirked in a smile that was almost… mischievous. "You’re so serious all the time," he said, his voice slow and deliberate, as though savoring the words. "Why are you so serious, Y/N?"

You frowned slightly at the question, unsure of how to respond. "I… I don’t know," you said, trying to be honest but also not entirely sure of what he meant. "Maybe because you’re so distant all the time."

Severus tilted his head as if your answer intrigued him. Then, unexpectedly, his hand moved from the table and reached toward your face. You froze, your breath catching as his fingers lightly brushed against your cheek. The touch was so unlike him, so tender, that your heart fluttered in your chest.

“You think I’m distant, huh?” he murmured, his eyes suddenly locking onto yours. “Maybe I’ve just been waiting for the right moment. You don’t always make it easy, Y/N. But… I’m trying.”

Your mind raced. Was this really Severus Snape? This flirty, playful version of him was so different from the man you were used to. There was no biting sarcasm, no dark, brooding intensity. Instead, it was like all the walls he had put up had crumbled in one fell swoop, leaving only… him.

He leaned a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But you know, I’m not used to this,” he confessed, his voice a hushed whisper, barely audible. “I’m not good at… well, this.” His fingers, now curled against your shoulder, gently traced the outline of your jaw. “But I think I’m figuring it out.”

You were stunned into silence, blinking at him in disbelief. For the first time in a long while, Severus wasn’t just the aloof, impenetrable figure you’d come to know. No, he was something else—something that made your pulse race and your chest tighten with a mixture of excitement and confusion.

“I—Severus, are you… drunk?” you asked, your voice barely more than a breath.

He smirked, a crooked, almost boyish expression. “Me? Drunk?” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no malice in it—just warmth. “Of course not. I’m perfectly in control.”

You gave him a skeptical look.

“Alright, maybe a little,” he admitted, his voice dropping into something playful, low. “But I do what I want tonight.”

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I should trust you when you’re like this.”

Severus’s smirk grew wider. His hand slipped from your shoulder to rest against the back of your neck, his thumb gently rubbing the sensitive skin there. You gasped, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N?” he asked softly, his face dangerously close to yours. There was a teasing note in his voice, but his eyes were filled with something far deeper—something you had never seen before.

“I—I don’t know what to think right now,” you confessed, caught between laughter and something else entirely. "You're acting so… different."

His lips curled up at the corners, his fingers now pressing more insistently against your neck as he leaned in just a little closer. “Good. I like surprising you.”

You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat at how incredibly close he was now. His breath was warm on your skin, his presence overwhelming. You felt the intensity of his gaze, the weight of the silence hanging between you. Then, before you could react, he did something that made your heart stop.

He kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft peck or an innocent brush of lips. No. It was a deep, urgent kiss, full of all the feelings he’d kept hidden for so long. His lips moved against yours with surprising gentleness, as if he were testing the waters, unsure but eager.

You froze for a moment, not sure if this was really happening, if this was the same Severus you knew. But then, instinct took over, and you kissed him back. His hand slid from your neck to the small of your back, pulling you in closer, deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, his chest was heaving with breath, his face flushed from the intensity of the moment. His eyes, wide and almost innocent in their shock, flickered between yours as though he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“I—I didn’t expect that,” he admitted, running a hand through his dark, disheveled hair.

You could barely suppress a laugh, still dazed from the kiss. “You didn’t expect to kiss me?” you teased, still in shock at how different he was acting. "Then why did you?"

Severus's smirk returned, but there was a softness to it now, a vulnerability that you rarely saw from him. "Because," he said, voice quiet but confident, "I’ve been wanting to for a long time.”

Your heart skipped in your chest at his words, the weight of them hanging in the air like something both fragile and precious.

“And now I’m not going to stop.” His voice was teasing again, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that you hadn’t expected to see tonight.

You smiled, finally feeling the distance between you both begin to shrink. “You’re incredible when you're like this,” you whispered, your hand reaching for his. “But I think you’ve had enough firewhiskey"

Severus gave you a half-hearted glare, clearly unbothered. "You always ruin the fun, Y/N," he muttered, though his smile was still there.

You leaned into him, your foreheads touching. “I think you’ve had more than enough fun for one night, Severus.”

With that, you both sank into the softness of the armchair, his arm draped over your shoulders as he let out a deep sigh, content in a way you had never seen him before.

And for the first time in ages, you didn’t feel the weight of his distance. Instead, you felt his warmth, his heart—a side of him you didn’t know he was capable of showing. The walls had come down, and for the first time, you could see Severus Snape for who he truly was.

And somehow, that was enough.

--

The early morning light filtered through the high, narrow windows of the Slytherin common room, casting long shadows across the stone floors. You awoke to a feeling of warmth, but it wasn’t the warmth of the sunlight creeping in—it was the sensation of something solid beside you, the familiar weight of Severus Snape’s presence.

You blinked, still groggy, trying to piece together what had happened. The night before was a blur, but you remembered enough: the firewhisky, the laughter, the kiss.

You glanced over at Severus, who was still sleeping beside you on the armchair, his head resting against the back, his face turned toward you. His dark hair fell across his forehead in a messy, unruly fashion—he looked almost boyish in his sleep, completely unlike the Snape you usually saw. There was a sense of vulnerability in his stillness, a quiet peace that you had never witnessed before.

You sat up slowly, careful not to disturb him. The events of the night before began to replay in your mind. The way he’d been so different, so open, so… tender. You could still feel the echo of his kiss on your lips, the warmth of his touch on your skin. The walls he’d built for years had come crashing down, revealing a side of him that you hadn’t even known existed.

But now that he was sober, would things change?

You hesitated for a moment, your stomach tightening at the thought of what might happen once he woke up and remembered. The Severus you knew didn’t let his guard down. He didn’t show emotion—especially not affection. It had always been an unspoken rule between you two that what existed between you was… complicated. You were never sure if he actually cared for you, or if he just needed someone to fill the space he left in his own heart.

But last night… last night was different.

You reached out and gently touched his shoulder, hesitant to wake him but unable to resist. He stirred slightly, letting out a soft grunt as his eyes fluttered open. They blinked in confusion at first, and then the haze of the night before seemed to clear, leaving only the cold, calculating Severus Snape you were more familiar with.

He sat up slowly, his hand instinctively reaching for the back of his head, smoothing down his disheveled hair. You watched him, heart in your throat, as his eyes flicked to you. There was a brief moment of silence—awkward, tense.

“Morning,” you said, your voice a little more hesitant than you’d intended. “How are you feeling?”

Severus didn’t answer immediately. He rubbed his temples, groaning softly as if trying to shake off the remnants of the firewhisky. Then he turned to face you fully, his gaze sharp, guarded.

“What happened last night?” he asked, his voice low and unsteady.

The bluntness of his question took you by surprise. You had expected some form of awkwardness, but this—this felt like something entirely different, like he was trying to distance himself from whatever had happened.

You bit your lip, searching for the right words. “You were... drunk and we… kissed,” you said softly, not daring to meet his eyes.

Severus raised an eyebrow, a flash of disbelief flickering in his expression. “Kissed?” He ran a hand through his hair again, clearly still processing the information. “I… don’t remember that.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of unease in your chest. "Yeah, well, you were drunk."

He frowned. "I don’t drink. I… I’m not used to that."

The words came out with a surprising mix of defensiveness and vulnerability. Severus wasn’t one to admit his weaknesses—his pride always kept him on the edge of everything, refusing to let anyone see him falter. You could sense his discomfort, even if he tried to mask it with his usual cool demeanor.

You decided to press a little more, not wanting him to slip back into his wall of indifference. “It was… nice, though. You were different. You were, uh, affectionate.”

His gaze faltered for a moment, and you saw a flicker of something in his dark eyes—something akin to regret, perhaps, or fear. He turned away, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I wasn’t myself last night. You know how it is… alcohol makes people act out of character.”

There it was again. The familiar defensiveness. Severus was shutting down, retreating into the fortress he had built around himself. You felt a pang in your chest as you watched him struggle with the remnants of his drunken vulnerability. You had seen the cracks in his armor, but now that they were being filled with cold stone once again, you didn’t know how to reach him.

“You don’t have to act like it didn’t happen,” you said, your voice steady but soft. “I’m not going to hold it against you.”

Severus let out a sharp exhale, glancing back at you with a look that was almost… apologetic. It was a fleeting expression, gone before you could truly process it. “You shouldn’t take me seriously when I’m drunk. It was… a lapse in judgment.”

A lapse in judgment.

The words stung more than you expected. You had hoped for something—anything—to acknowledge the sincerity you had seen in him, even if only for a moment. But instead, you were faced with his refusal to acknowledge what had happened. The distance between you felt like it had stretched even further in the light of day.

“I don’t think it was a lapse in judgment,” you replied, your voice tinged with frustration. “Maybe you just don’t know how to be honest with yourself.”

Severus���s eyes hardened, and you saw the familiar walls rising once again, stone by stone. He shifted in his seat, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. “I don’t need your lectures, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the rush of emotions threatening to spill over. You had never been good at hiding your feelings, especially when it came to Severus. And right now, you were feeling a mixture of confusion, disappointment, and—if you were being honest—hurt.

“I’m not lecturing you,” you said quietly, standing up from your seat. “I just thought that maybe… just maybe… you didn’t want to push me away anymore.”

Severus didn’t respond right away. He didn’t have to. His silence spoke volumes.

You turned away, heading toward the exit of the common room. The heavy feeling in your chest only grew stronger with every step. You didn’t know what you were expecting from Severus, but you certainly hadn’t anticipated this cold rejection. You thought he’d at least acknowledge what had happened between you—the connection you’d shared, however brief.

As your hand rested on the doorknob, you paused, glancing over your shoulder. Severus hadn’t moved, but his gaze was fixed on you. He was watching you with a strange mixture of longing and frustration, as though he didn’t quite know how to deal with the situation, how to deal with you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter than before, and there was something more in it—regret, maybe? “I didn’t mean…”

But before he could finish, you opened the door, stepping into the dimly lit corridor outside. You didn’t want to hear it. Not yet.

You needed space. You needed time to sort out the mess of feelings swirling inside you.

The heavy door clicked shut behind you with a soft finality, and you leaned against the stone wall for a moment, pressing your hand to your forehead. You felt the sting of tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

Severus Snape had always been difficult. Distant. But last night, for a brief moment, you had seen him—truly seen him. And now, in the light of day, it felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

Maybe you were just fooling yourself.

--

It had been days since the uncomfortable confrontation in the dungeon hall, and with every passing moment, you found yourself more certain of two things: Severus Snape was as impossible to understand as ever, and you were a fool to think you could make him change.

But that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, nor did it stop the steady pull of curiosity that kept drawing your eyes toward him whenever he passed in the halls. Severus was not a man you could predict. He wasn’t even a man you could know—at least, not in the way you wanted to.

The walls he’d built around himself were high and thick, and no matter how many cracks you thought you saw in them, they always closed up again. The kiss from that night seemed more like a fleeting dream than a reality—if you dared think about it at all.

And yet, here you were, standing outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room, feeling every ounce of uncertainty bubble up in your stomach. You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t seek him out again. That you’d let things settle and maybe, just maybe, find some semblance of peace. But the silence between you two had stretched long enough that it was starting to hurt.

You wanted closure—something to understand about him, something to break the wall of cold indifference he’d thrown up after that night.

A few quick steps brought you to the heavy iron door, and you hesitated for just a moment before entering. The familiar scent of damp stone and earth filled your nose as you made your way toward the shadowed corner of the common room where you knew he’d likely be, hunched over some book, as he often was.

The common room was nearly empty. A few first years sat in a cluster near the fireplace, whispering and giggling, but there was no sign of Severus. Maybe he wasn’t there after all. Your heart sank. Maybe you were too late.

But as you turned to leave, a voice from the shadows stopped you.

"Looking for someone?"

You froze, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. His voice—the same smooth, dark tone that always sent a shiver down your spine—was laced with that familiar coolness, but you could swear there was something else in it too. A weariness? A trace of something unspoken?

You didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, you stood there for a moment, gathering your thoughts. "I was," you said softly, turning slowly. "I thought… maybe we should talk."

Severus didn’t answer right away. He was seated in a darkened alcove at the far end of the room, his legs stretched out in front of him, his fingers wrapped around a heavy textbook. The faintest light from the fireplace caught the edge of his profile, casting sharp shadows across his face. For a brief moment, you saw the boy he’d once been, hidden behind the cold facade of the man he’d become.

His eyes flicked to you, and then back to the book in his lap. “We have nothing to talk about,” he said, though there was a hesitance in his tone that made you pause.

You folded your arms across your chest, steeling yourself. "I don’t believe that."

He raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not used to your persistence. “And what, pray tell, do you believe?” he asked, his voice slightly mocking, but not entirely unamused.

You stepped closer, your voice steady, though there was an underlying edge to it. "I believe you’re hiding something. Hiding yourself."

Severus's gaze narrowed at the words, and for a moment, you thought he might say something sharp—something cutting, something that would send you away. But instead, he sighed heavily, almost imperceptibly, as though the weight of your words was starting to settle on him. He closed the book in his lap with an audible thud and stood slowly, eyes fixed on you.

“I’ve already said everything there is to say, Y/N. I’m not someone you can fix—I don’t want to be someone you think you can ‘fix.’”

You swallowed hard. He was back to his defensive, distant self again. "I’m not trying to fix you," you said quietly. "I just… I don’t understand. You were different that night. You let me in—but now, it’s like none of it happened."

He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Of course you’d think that. You think it was something more than what it was. I don’t need your pity, Y/N. I don’t need—" He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. "I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was a lapse of judgment."

You felt the sting of his words like a slap to your face, and something deep inside of you recoiled. “Stop saying that,” you said, your voice more insistent. “It wasn’t a lapse of judgment. I know it wasn’t.”

Severus’s eyes flashed dangerously. "And how would you know?" His voice dropped, becoming dangerously low. "You don’t know anything about me. You never have."

The anger in his words cut through you like a knife. But beneath the anger, you could hear something else. Fear. It was there, buried deep in the layers of his voice—fear of being known, of being seen for what he truly was.

“Maybe I don’t know everything,” you said, your voice softer now, more careful, "but I know you, Severus. I know what I saw. And I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen."

He took a step toward you, closing the space between you both. His eyes bore into yours, a flicker of something darker in them, but also something more tender, almost imperceptible, just beneath the surface. "You should forget it," he said, his words quiet but forceful. "It doesn’t matter. I’m not the type of person you think I am. I don’t want your pity or your sympathy. I don’t—"

You didn’t let him finish. Without thinking, you reached out and placed your hand on his arm. His body tensed, and he drew in a sharp breath, but you didn’t pull away.

"I don’t pity you, Severus," you said firmly, your hand remaining where it was. "I never have."

His gaze flickered down to your hand on his arm, and for a brief second, you thought he might push you away. But he didn’t. Instead, he took another breath and let it out slowly, his expression unreadable.

"You don’t understand," he muttered. "I’ve been alone for so long. And I’ve learned not to need anyone."

"I’m not asking you to need me," you whispered. "I’m asking you to stop pushing me away. I’m here… if you’d let me be."

For a long moment, there was no answer. Severus stood still, almost like a statue, his eyes fixed on the place where your hand still rested on his arm. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a long, almost imperceptible sigh.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said softly, his voice raw in a way you hadn’t expected. "I don’t know how to let someone in… and I don’t know if I ever will."

And in that moment, you realized something. This wasn’t about him rejecting you, or pushing you away. It wasn’t about him being cruel or distant. It was about him being scared. Scared of getting close to anyone. Scared of letting someone see the cracks in the armor he’d built so carefully around himself.

You withdrew your hand slowly, but you didn’t turn away. You stood there, just… present, watching him.

“I don’t expect you to change, Severus,” you said quietly. “I just… I just don’t want you to be alone.”

There was a long silence. Finally, Severus looked at you, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable.

"Maybe one day," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe."

And with that, he turned away, retreating into the shadows of the common room, leaving you standing there with the echo of his words lingering in the space between you.

[dean-a-mean-tae]

We Can't Make It On Our Own | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

After a rough day, a moment with the youngest of Stray Kids helps Nicholas come to an understanding. | Little bit of Jeongin x Nicholas

(@cafekitsune made the dividers) | Nicholas Ross Master List

What's the saying? Walking on eggshells? Or thin ice? You're nervous, you're scared, and you have to be cautious of your actions. One wrong move, and you plummet into ice-cold water.

Growing up on thin ice makes children cautious and forces them to mask themselves, to mold themselves to what their parents want. Other adults believe they've raised well-behaved kids. When the children are out in the world, they don't know what to do with so much freedom.

There's no one looming over them, no threat of being hit or yelled at for spoilt milk. They can't find their place, emotionally or mentally.

Yesterday, Nicholas had another episode that left him in much worse shape than usual.

The day started fine. He got out of bed with only a slight twinge in his knees. He went through his routine, ate a bacon sandwich, and went to practice.

It was right after they finished that the first pain hit in the back of his right knee. He grabbed the shoulder of the nearest member, who happened to be Seungmin, and sighed.

"You okay?" The younger grabbed his arm, guiding Nicholas to a nearby couch so he could sit next to Minho.

"I'll be okay."

And he would be, just not for a while. The pain had gotten worse. It hurt his right leg and back. Nicholas looked at Minho out of the corner of his eye and watched as Minho nodded before leaving to get Chan.

After a moment, Nicholas was in his room, surrounded by his members. Jeongin and Seungmin lay on either side of Nick while Hyunjin lay behind him against the headboard. Chan was looking for his heating plushie in his closet.

Minho cooked something light for Nick's stomach while Felix made him tea. Changbin and Jisung were in the laundry room drying Nick's blankets.

The next day, the others wouldn't let Nicholas up. He was on bed rest until they decided he was fit to move. They were kind enough to bring him his laptop and Nintendo Switch.

This morning, they let Minho and Jeongin stay with him. They ate breakfast with him before Minho went to wash the dishes and clean the little mess from their last living room sleepover.

Jeongin was told to stay with Nicholas.

"Make sure Nick doesn't try to get up," Minho said, staring pointedly at the maknae before walking out of the room.

"I hate when you guys talk like I'm not here."

Jeongin lay on Nick's shoulder, the older's arm wrapped around him, watching a movie. He looked up at Nick with a sigh.

"I don't think they mean to do it. I know I don't," Jeongin assured, leaning on his side propped over Nick.

"What if I went back to my grandparents?" Nick whispered, staring at the ceiling. "Like, if I left Stray Kids and went to America?"

"We'd try to talk you out of it," Jeongin said, voice just as quiet as the other. He leaned over, his hand propping him over Nicholas so he wouldn't crush him.

"Chan hyung chose you for a reason. You're talented, and we love you." Jeongin tilted his head in thought, his vision blurry as he started to ramble.

"We all bring something to the table. Chan looks out for us, Minho makes sure we're fed and takes care of us, Changbin keeps us energized, Hyunjin helps us use our voices, Jisung helps us have fun, Felix shows us it's okay to be happy, and Seungmin balances him out by telling us it's okay to be sad. While I keep everyone on their toes."

"What do I bring?" Nick asked.

Jeongin stared down at him, eyes bouncing around Nick's face in thought. For a moment, there was silence. The movie had paused when the 'Still watching?' queue popped up. Minho had shifted further in the dorm, so they only heard their breathing.

"Peace." The younger whispered.

For some reason, Nick understood. Maybe it was the emotion in Jeongin's eyes, or perhaps it was the memories of different members coming to him for comfort. Maybe it was the fact that they took care of him with a smile, even when his conditions set them back. But he understood, and that's what mattered.

Nicholas brought the group peace and a space for them to feel safe.

Nicholas Ross Master List

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: …

[diazheartsbuckley]

Hello! Epicbuddieficrecs here :) ⚡️⚡️⚡️🏫🏫🏫

Hey you! 💗

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

“I’m sorry for just uhm-…” Buck clears his throat as he picks at the hem of his shirt, unable to make eye contact with Eddie.

He feels bad. Feels bad that he just left Eddie hanging after he poured his heart out to him. Feels bad that he hasn’t replied to any of his calls or texts since last night. It leaves him with a sinking feeling in his chest as he glances up at Eddie, seeing the soft creases in his forehead deepening. He has seen that look before and knows exactly what it means. Eddie isn’t angry, isn’t upset but rather confused and hurt and Buck can’t really blame him.

“Running off?” Eddie says, his words laced with a hint of sarcasm and a bit of hurt. Scratch that, a lot of hurt. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he laid all his cards on the table with Buck last night but it definitely wasn’t being ignored.

🏫🏫🏫🏫

“You wanna talk about it?” Shannon asks carefully, slowly moving away from Eddie and leans back against the counter, palms pressed against the cold marble.

“It’s nothing, it’s fine” Eddie says as he slides past her, grabbing a glass from the cabinet next to her head. Sometimes he forgets how in sync they have been because Shannon ducks her head almost instinctively and then tilts it back upright, curious eyes not leaving him alone.

“Eddie, come on. We talked to Doctor Callahan about this” Shannon says and Eddie grits his teeth a little as he fills the glass with water, almost letting it overflow as he disappears into his own head. He doesn’t like Doctor Callahan, not because she’s a bad therapist but because she’s making him feel things that he doesn’t want to feel and think things that he doesn’t want to think about and because she’s squeezing every hard earned dollar out of him. As if getting separated hadn’t been costly enough. Both emotionally and financially. And Eddie hates that the latter is what comes first in his mind. Not when it comes to Chris but when it comes to him and Shannon, sure he loves her but he doesn’t love her the way that she deserves to be loved.

Make me write ✍🏻

Using this as my tease tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @bidisasterevankinard and @jesuisici33 💋

No pressure tagging 💗(let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@tizniz, @watchyourbuck, @pirrusstuff, @wikiangela, @daffi-990, @honestlydarkprincess, @spotsandsocks, @kitteneddiediaz, @exhuastedpigeon, @hippolotamus, @giddyupbuck, @theotherbuckley, @wildlife4life, @thewolvesof1998, @weewootruck, @devirnis, @ronordmann, @spaceprincessem, @princessfbi, @loveyouanyway, @actualalligator, @jeeyuns, @housewifebuck, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @inell, @bucksbignaturals, @bucks-daddy-issues, @underwaterninja13, @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming, @monsterrae1, @elvensorceress

[lopsicle]

Catching Up

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Characters: Lee! Blitzø, Ler! Fizz (Can be seen as romantic or platonic, I love BlitzFizz)

Summary: As Blitz and Fizzaroli make up for lost time, Fizz discovers something he didn’t know about his former friend.

Tickletober day 2: Accidental

Warnings: Tickle Fic, innuendos.

Life had never been the same for Blitz and Fizzaroli since their second meeting in the Greed Ring. Sure, they’d reconciled their main issues and managed to air out some of the miscommunication forced onto them in their adolescence, but it had still been a decade and a half since they even just had a regular conversation. It was going to take a lot of work and effort to maintain that friendship, but that was work Blitz was willing to do. He couldn’t lose Fizz a second time.

Sometimes, Blitz would hang out backstage at Ozzie’s, listening to the clown perform his bits to the crowd, hyping him up whenever he had the chance. Sometimes that happened at Mammon’s, but it was rare Blitz would be allowed back there, much less without freaking out about being in the same room as a rockstar he admired from before he was even an adult. Fizz would even pop around to I.M.P sometimes, just his presence there was enough to drive up business so he had a warm welcome.

Though, their favourite thing to do was to just be with each other. It didn’t matter where, they usually preferred privacy but the two were neither careful or shameful, being able to do their business wherever. The pair of scarred imps could go on for hours and hours about whatever came into their mind, it was like they had a years long back log of all the things they wanted to talk about locked up in their brain, but never had the right person to say it too. They were just two sides of the same coin, better together.

One day, the two ended up in the privacy of Blitz’s room, which he (mostly) cleaned up for his guest. They’d both made themselves comfortable, Blitz laying down on his bed, sprawled out with her legs hanging over the edge, and Fizzaroli sitting over on the window sill, switching his face between the lacklustre view of Imp city, and his host.

‘Hey, how much can you feel?’

Fizzaroli’s eyes glanced over back to Blitz at his casual question, tilting his body to face him as he did so.

‘Like, emotionally?’

The clown tilted his head almost unassumingly, to which Blitz threw a nearby pillow at him.

‘Yeah, of course I mean emotionally-of course not, dipshit, of course I meant physically! You know, metal limbs and all,’

He huffed playfully, crossing him arms to which Fizz just chuckled, amused at his frustration.

‘Well, I can feel with my nose just fine! And my insides are…rigged with sensitivity, just ask Ozzie!’

‘I am not asking that feather covered, sparkly whore about how he fucks you.’

Fizz just laughed even harder at that, kicking his legs a little as he hopped off his self made perch, standing closer to Blitz.

‘Ahand, I can new sensors in my fingertips, Ozzy developed them himself to make things more…captivating.’

Blitz rolled his eyes and made a face, maybe a little out of jealousy, but there wasn’t much ill will behind it.

‘So now I can actually feel with them again! You have no idea how much I missed petting animals! And fucking with people, that’s great too!’

He ran his fingertips over Blitz’s still stretched out torso to make his point, to which the imp fucking squealed and curled up in on himself. Fizz tilted his head, sitting by Blitz with the largest shit eating grin on his face.

‘No fuckin’ way your ticklish! How did you hide this from me?!’

He asked excitedly, to which the imp blushed a little, trying to scramble backwards on the bed on his palms but he was quickly scooped up by his friend’s mechanical limbs and pulled closer.

‘Okay, it’s not that big of a deal this I’m ticklish! You don’t have to make such a big deal out of this, you knahaahhahw!’

The demon’s protests were cut off by a couple sharp scratches to his ribs, with a very eager Fizz now positioning himself on Blitz’s hips.

‘Oh, don’t you try and weasel your way out of this one! We’ve got, what, fifteen years of laughter to catch up on, and I’ve never heard you laugh like this!’

As much as Blitz wanted to remain tough and stoic on the outside, it was hard to do that while giggling, much less from your childhood best friend/crush tickling you. He couldn’t deny that the attention felt nice, not in a dirty way, he never expected to really…feel Fizz again due to his body being broken so it was a pleasant surprise. The tickling was just a bonus, though he weakly struggled against Fizz’s body to make it look like he wasn’t enjoying it too much. Though, Fizz saw right through him.

‘Oh, come on now, Blitzy, I’ve seen what your capable of, you could push me off you with ease if you wanted but you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

Blitz’s blushing situation went from bad to worse as he shook his head from side to side, he’d normally try and hide his enjoyment under some snarky remark but it was hard to think of one while your sides were being squeezed and tickled. So he just resorted to this.

‘Fuhahahahack you!’

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ Fizz chuckled to himself a little, allowing his nimble, dexterous fingers to skitter all over Blitz’s torso. ‘That’s alright, Blitz, you know I don’t just people, kinky or not, but there is no way I am not being in on this! You don’t know how fun this is me!’

Fizz gushed, pulling his hands away as he looked up at his friend excitedly. While Blitz may have rejected an offer like this from basically anyone a month or two ago, Fizz had softened him up in terms of accepting…anything really from others, plus it was a nice bonus that Fizz seemed to be enjoying it a lot.

‘…would you wanna continue right now then?’

‘Oh, with pleasure!’

[mistressoftheelderitchwhorehouse]

Affection = 1

A/N: Someone pointed out how Chuuya has had little to none positive affection that wasn't transactional, or didn't result in violence. So here's a drabble series about it.

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Pairing: Chuuya x Reader

___________________________

Chuuya didn't date.

He would fuck when he had the time, might even have the occasional friend with benefits if it was a slow month. All the sex he had was spit, and blood, and hastily discarded condoms. The girls typically didn't look at him twice after, and if they did it was to ask about his bank account.

Dazai had told him once that he wasn't made for relationships, that he would push away the first person that tried to allow him the space to be vulnerable.

Dazai ended up with a broken nose that day.

And yet Dazai's syrupy words clogged his ears and poisoned his heart as he watched you idly play with his ungloved fingers.

It wasn't deliberate like after sex. When your fingers squeezed his to keep your mind from floating away while you came down from your high. Nor was it the more annoying poking you did when you wanted him to get up to get the remote.

No, here it was soft, and almost lackadaisical. Starting between his thumb and pointer, you made looping patterns up along his knuckles, down the length of his middle finger, and back up to his knuckles.

You couldn't have needed anything. The movie playing was your choice, he had whipped you both up a quick meal, and he'd let you pick the wine this time despite knowing it would be something overly sweet.

He continued racking his brains for whatever needed fixing. You had things, you weren't initiating sex... Wait, did you need comfort?

His gaze shifted from your hands to your body. The movie wasn't emotionally taxing. Just a romance that had a happy ending, according to you. You also didn't appear injured. The dark skin peeking out from your night dress didn't display any marks he hadn't been previously aware of-

"Red, you good?"

He blinked and looked up at your face. Despite trying to focus, he could still feel your hand on his own, your movements halted.

"Yeah. 'm fine."

You raised an eyebrow. "We can switch the movie. I know you like ones with a bit more atmosphere."

You removed your hand from his, and he let out a soft breath, hand finally relaxing.

"Are we doing animated or live action?"

"Look. Sweetheart." You paused, hand on the remote. "Can we… Is it okay if we do a serious talk?"

And then Chuuya realized why he was willing to try the whole relationship thing. You set the remote aside after muting the TV, and turned to face him completely. "What’s up, Chuuya?"

He killed people for a living.

Watched them get their fingers broken after pulling off the nails. Setting buildings on fire with people still inside. Ripping people out of their beds while their families watched…

And yet facing you to ask such a basic question…

He scratched the back of his head, gaze pointedly fixed on his hands.

"I didn't get why you're messing with my hand."

"Hm?"

He clicked his tongue, but did his best to keep the anger out of his voice. "You were messing with my fingers, and…"

"You can just tell me to stop, Chuuya. I won't get upset."

"That's not it. I just don't get why." Frustration creeped into his tone, and yet you didn't even flinch. "I know my body runs warm, and I know I got rough hands. Can't see the reason for it if you don't want something."

You stared at him for a long moment, before you tilted your head to the side. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No."

"Does it feel bad or annoying?"

"No."

Well, honesty time..."

He raised an eyebrow when you began twisting your own fingers. "I gotta do a lot of things at once. Blame the ADHD. And, you know, I like you so… I wanted to just show that."

He could pratically hear Dazai laughing at the confusion running through his head. He'd need to break that idiot's nose again...

You crawled closer to Chuuya, and grasped one of his hands in both of yours.

"It's like when you tuck me in. You don't have to. It's pratically auto pilot, right?" When he nodded you smiled. "but it shows you love me. This is how I wanna show you that I love you. I guess showing that I desire you for you. Ya know?"

He looked away sharply, his mouth twitching with a smile. He knew even with his shock of hair, you could see how red his face and neck were getting.

"I think I get it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He heard the couch shift, before he felt warm lips against his cheek. "Thank you for asking me about this. I'm very proud of you for handling this conversation so well."

"Yeah, yeah. We're adults. Gotta talk about shit when it happens."

"Exactly!"

He placed his hand on your lap, and you laced your fingers with his.

Fuck. What did he do to deserve you?

[neverlookatthisblog]

Out of focus

Summery: Jack noticed that you were out of it so he got you a surprise to comfort you

There might be some grammar errors I’ll fix them eventually 💀

I honestly would like to know this dogs name I definitely think it’s a girl 🙃

Fluff

Lately you’ve been so out of it finding yourself spacing out it got so bad to the point where Jack started noticing this

He couldn’t help but so concerned but every time he would ask you if you were okay you would just say “yea I’m fine!” He knew that you weren’t usually he’d like to give you some space so you could have time to yourself

He couldn’t help but feel bad for you were struggling a lot not just mentally but physically

He knew if he would keep asking you

You’d probably just say the same things

Wanting to convince yourself and others around you that you were fine,you knew that it would keep getting worse

“I’ll be back later to check on you” Jack said giving you a peck on the lips

While Jack was at the studio you had some alone time you wish that you would’ve gotten up to do something but you just laid in bed all day

You sighed finally deciding to get up looking around you decided to wash the dishes since it was your turn anyways

While cleaning you heard the door open meaning Jack was home you heard lots of movement in the living room finishing up the dishes you curiously made your way to the living room

Jack hiding the puppy she did a soft bark making him shush her

“You gotta be quiet so I can surprise your new mommy” he said talking to the dog the dog just tilted its head

He heard you coming quickly closing the bedroom he grabbed all the bags pretending like he had stuff to put down

“Here let me help you” you suggested trying to help him

“Nah I got it” but Jack wouldn’t let you

“What’s all this stuff for anyways” you asked

“It’s a surprise go sit on the couch and close your eyes” he said sounding so excited making you laugh a bit

You heard Jack go to your guys room to get something he quickly came back

“Jack can you hurry up i have a show to watch” you said getting impatient

“Give me a sec just sit there for a couple more minutes” you huffed

“Now I’ve noticed lately that you’ve on another planet spacing out so I decided to pick something up a little extra” he said Jack placed the dog on your lap lightly

“Jack what the hell is that” you questioned

“You can go ahead and open your eyes now” he said standing there proudly

Moving your hands that were covering your face you look down to see a cute curly little brown dog

“Omg” said a little surprised

The dog sniffed around you getting to know you if one thing was for sure was that this dog was very calm not jumping around she made sure to make herself comfortable on your lap

“I can’t believe you got me a puppy” you said beginning to tear up a bit you had been so drained emotionally and physically Jack knew that taking his time with you

“I know it’s only temporary but I hope this makes you feel better atleast for the most part” he said you smiled

“It does thank you Jack” you said kissing him on the cheek

“You don’t have to thank me I know I’m the best boyfriend ever” he said making your smile fade

“Alright now don’t start getting cocky” you said making the both of you laugh

You spent time getting to know the dog playing with her it definitely was the perfect distraction for you right now

[try-set-me-on-fire]

@eowon @rogerzsteven @devirnis and @thewolvesof1998 all tagged me in temptation Tuesday! Let's see do I have any new temptations...

Well this fic is me giving into temptation instead of writing like any of the longer more pressing fic ideas I have going ahshsh

This scene popped into my mind and I feel like I should find someplace to put it. Maybe it could go in proposal fic?

“Dad?”  Buck’s head does a little swivel around the room at Christopher’s voice. “Think he’s in the backyard, kid.”  “No-“ Chris frowns a little, coming close enough to tug on Buck’s sleeve. “I mean… Dad. Buck, Dad.” Buck blinks, once and then several times very rapidly. This morning Eddie had told him Christopher wanted to try something, smiling a mischievous little smile as he’d given him the mysterious heads up, but Buck hadn’t expected this. He swallows and tries to play it cool even as tears are forming in his eyes. “Oh- uh- Yeah?” “Can I go play Minecraft? Dennis and Leah said they were going to be online.” Chris’ face is so open and innocent, like he maybe just forgot its chore day in the Diaz house and last Buck checked he hadn’t even really started on his room yet. “Please, Dad?”  Buck’s still watery eyes narrow. “You’re a little bit evil,” he says, pointing at him. Chris just keeps smiling serenely like he’s never even heard of the concept of weaseling out of responsibilities, never even thought about emotionally bribing his poor old Buck. “Dad?" Biiiig eyes. "Can I?”  “… No?” It comes out warbly and high pitched and completely unsure.  "No to what?" Eddie comes down the hallway, wiping dirty hands on his old worn chore day jeans.  "Nothing," Chris says, innocently, beginning to giggle. He full on cackles as Buck loops an arm around him and gives him a gentle noogie. "You gremlin," Buck grins, holding the kid as he squirms. He looks up at Eddie, who's smiling down at the two of them so fondly. Dad? Buck mouths, feeling once again the sort of freefall swoop he gets in his stomach whenever he finds a new way the Diaz family have seamlessly fit him into their lives. Eddie does a little head tilt nod, smile even warmer. Then his eyebrows scrunch up and he points to Chris. What did he do? Buck shakes his head with an eye roll that does nothing to dim how happy he's sure he looks. "You gotta clean your room, child o' mine, video games later."  "Fine," Chris says, voice still laced with laughter. Buck loosens his hold to let him go get on with it, but pulls him into something more like a hug before he does. "Hey," he says, overwhelmed for a moment by how big this kid has grown. He'd been so small, a million years ago in a school parking lot after an earthquake. "I love you so much." Buck feels Chris' smile where he presses it into Buck's shoulder. "Love you too, Dad."

And then I guess every current wip is kind of tempting me from every other one... I should list 'em out and find some writing game to reblog to make you guys bully me into working on them.

Tagging @rewritetheending @bigfootsmom @burins @anxieteandbiscuits @shortsighted-owl @iinryer

[chairwritexv]

Can i request platonic hc rottmnt little sibling reader who's admiring their older brother leo?

Like they love how cool he is, how calm in stress situations & how he even outsmarted big mama in battle nexus champion and counted for EVERYTHING.

Reader is trying their best to be just like them and this warms leo's heart and help him emotionally since reader is trusting him & looking up to him.

AFDJSJSJAJXH THIS IS SO CUTE

ok so

he has self-esteem issues and- you wanting to be like him???

AJFHSJSJS

it helps his mental/emotional health so much not even kidding

means absolutely everything

don’t stop mk? mk

shows off for you ALL. THE. TIME. (it usually ends badly)

it annoys the crap out of his siblings

oh my god

means so much

he is SO smug about it on the outside tho

but inside

he’s MELTING

and the trusting thing?

someone actually looks up to him??? and trusts him???

extra sibling points for you

ok but SERIOUSLY

he’s so used to his family NOT trusting him with plans it’s expected at this point but then his little sibling is ACTUALLY showing trust and love and even wants to BE LIKE HIM?.???

he’s platonically in love

youre now his favorite sibling

you definitely play with his odachi pretending to be him when he’s not around

but when he saw you??.?

ducking. melted.

ABSOLUTELY teaches you how to use them bc he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself

if you hurt yourself he will drop the smug-ass act and tend to your wounds which he learned from donnie

will ‘scold you’ (tells you not to do that even tho it wasn’t on purpose)

then immediately goes back to teaching you

loves it sm

means absolutely everything

will protect you with his life

i mean he would before but ESPECIALLY now

afdjsjskaja

bonus blurb thingie for being one of the first 3 requests below !!

you watched leo with awe in your eyes as he took down another foot clan member, his swords swing gracefully in the air as he decapitated the paper fiend, your eyes widening in wonder from behind the box as he did so. ok, so you weren’t technically supposed to be here. your brothers didn’t think you were ready to fight yet, which you were mostly fine with, but you just had to see your big brother leo in action!! he was your idol, basically. you looked up to him so much, he was just so awesome! you’d trust him with your life. i mean, you’d trust all your brothers with your life. but specifically leo. so, here you were. hiding behind a bunch of boxes and watching your brother kick ass. what could be better? well, maybe if that foot clan member hadn’t noticed you… the member’d snuck up behind you, ready to attack, unnoticed to you. you were too busy watching your brothers. until leo looked straight at you, his eyes, flashing to concern and worry as he used his swords to create a portal and jump through it. you tilted your head in slight confusion before you heard a noise behind you, you immediately turning around to see what it was. which was when you saw leo jump out of a portal and onto the foot clan member that was about to attack you. he swiftly cut the paper fiend in half, the paper bits flying around. after getting over the slight shock, you ran over and hugged leo, despite yourself. he jumped back, surprised before hugging you back. before he even had the chance to ask if you were alright, you’d already started singing his praises. “leo!!! that was awesome!!! thank you so much!! that was like- like amazing!! you’re like the best brother ever!! i’m gonna like- i-i’m gonna be like exactly like you when i’m older!!” as you rambled on, leo could feel his face heat up. he was awesome? someone wanted to be like- like him? you just gave the the confidence boost he didn’t know he needed. he didn’t say that, of course. he put on a smug smile and slung his arm around your shoulders, cutting off your rambling. “yep, i’m awesome~ c’mon lil sib, let’s get donnie to check on ya-“ “i’m fine-!” ”mmm, we’ll see…-“

hope you enjoyed! thanks for requesting !!