#how to make your rap flow better

[lovebugism]

thigh riding Carmy because he isn't paying attention to you please please please 😭

summary: carmy misses date night and finds a way to work and make you feel good at the same time (2.2k)

pairing: carmy berzatto / f!reader

contents: established relationship, thigh riding, public setting (ish), dirty talk, smut with sprinkles of fluff 18+

Carmy’s office is a windowless concrete cage of chaos. There are a million papers stacked and scattered across his desk, half-hidden beneath books that are flipped open to random pages. You’re not sure how he’s keeping up with any of it. Though, to be fair, you’ve never been able to completely understand his mind.

You know him better than anyone else, but he’s still such a mystery to you sometimes — like a language you can read perfectly but can’t speak all the way. 

You don’t know why he runs himself aground with work even though it kills him, even though he swears the enormity of his desire brings him back to life again. You just know to try and save the drowning man from himself from time to time, and not to let him strangle you with his panic in the process.

“Bear?” you call gently into the amber-lit office, knuckles rapping against the opened door. “You ready?”

Sitting slouched over his desk, you can hear the faint tap tap tapping of his pen against the paper, an anxious tick for his ever-fidgeting fingers. “No. Not— Not yet, baby. I’m fuckin’— I’m drowning in this paperwork right now.”

He lifts his heavy head from his tattooed hand and glances at you over his shoulder. The sight of you makes his breath catch — leaning against the doorframe, all pretty in the lamplight, wearing the dress he bought you.

The deep emerald silk drips over your body like summer rain. It dips low at your chest and flows just above your knees, fitting you like a total dream.

Carmy, for a flicker of a moment, forgets to be anxious. 

While his eyes dart over your form, the rest of the world disappears — it could be entirely falling apart for all he knows, but all he can see now is you. Your stormy eyes, your soft skin, and your quiet sensuality. Your ruby lips, your cheeks like wine, and your gentle voice. 

His mouth falls agape to say words he can’t make out. His ocean eyes go wide, glimmering a deeper blue in the low light — which casts dark shadows over the sharp edges of his face. His gaze is like the sea. You feel yourself drowning in it accordingly.

“It can’t wait?” you press gently, lifting yourself from the doorframe and sauntering slowly towards him. Closing the door behind you, you drop your chin to your chest and flash the boy a sheepish smile. “All the restaurants are gonna close soon.” 

Carmy huffs. He knew better than to plan a date. He’s far too busy — or, rather, he doesn’t allow himself to be anything other than busy because there’s a voice inside him that just won’t be still. Working himself to death was an art he did exceptionally well, which hadn’t bothered him so much until he met you.

“I gotta get this done, babe,” he answers sympathetically, tilting his chin to keep his eyes locked with yours as you near him.

Your familiar scent sets the stagnant air aglow. The warmth of your perfume cradles his senses when you loom beside him. Your hand rises to his shoulder, fingers fidgeting with the swathe of curls at the nape of his neck. His wide palm smooths over your hip — softly calloused against the satiny fabric. 

You smile softly down at him. “So I got all pretty for nothin’?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

“Well, you got all pretty for me, actually,” Carmy corrects.

His pink lips curl in a faint smirk. Your grin widens tenfold. The subtle act of possessiveness, coupled with the strong hand on your waist, makes your chest sparkle. 

“Yeah, I did,” you hum proudly, bending at the waist to press a chaste kiss to his mouth. He tastes fleetingly of nicotine and sweet plum wine — a maddening concoction.

You rise to full height again. Carmy pats your hip twice before his fingers fall away. He turns back to his desk, and you feel half-invisible again. It’s hardly his fault, though. There was something deeply intense about his stone-blue eyes. You feel strangely held when he looks at you, left inevitably mourning every time he turns away.

His pen darts across the gridded page in chicken scratch you can’t make out, worsened by his wrist smudging the ink. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck. You bury your nose in his chestnut curls and inhale the familiar scent of grill smoke and cedarwood. 

“You know I don’t care actually about going out, right?” you mumble there.

Carmy hums, half-distracted. “Mhm.”

“Just wanna spend time with you… Don’t care what we’re doing…”

You press a kiss to his temple. He leans instinctively into your touch. “Well, I’ll make you the best damn PB&J Chicago’s ever seen when we get back home, alright?” he muses with a quiet smile. “How’s that sound?”

“I’m holding you to that, Bear,” you say, grinning into his curls.

“I’m countin’ on it.” Carmy chuckles and lifts his free hand to squeeze your wrist. His touch slips away soon after when he turns back to his work. 

Quiet returns, heavy and deafening, filled only by the distant clanging of pots from stragglers in the kitchen. It makes you strikingly aware of yourself — of the space you’re filling in this tiny office, and the distracting weight of your arms around his neck. Feeling more like a burden, you clear your throat and pull away.

“I’m, uh— I’m gonna see if Richie left yet. Maybe he’ll let me bum a smoke or something.”

Carmy mourns your warmth the second you’re gone. He spins in his swivel chair to face you, laughing to cover up his ache. “What happened to us spending time together?”

He knows how you think. You think he gets so involved in his work that he doesn’t spare you a single thought. But really, he’s so strongly devoted to you that it feels like the emotion could rip him open from the inside.

You squint. “Watching you sign a bunch of paperwork while you pretend I’m not here is not spending time together,” you argue, laughing despite yourself.

“Don’t go. C’mon,” Carmy pleads, very distantly begging. He tilts his head and blinks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Come sit,” he tells you.

“Sit where?” you scoff.

“In my lap.”

“I’ll squish you,” you insist, giggling.

“Shut up and sit down,” he commands, still playful but leaving little room for argument. His wide palms smooth slowly up and down his denim-clad thighs. Your heart lurches into your throat.

You walk the short distance to him with a huff of feigned annoyance, dress swishing around your knees. Carmy pushes away from his desk to give you space to sit. You take a seat on his lap, just like he asked you to, but he stops you with a pair of strong hands grasping your hips.

“Not like that,” he murmurs.

Your brows furrow in response. “What do you mean?”

“On my thigh,” Carmy corrects, swatting playfully at your clothed hip. “C’mon. Sit right.”

You rise slowly, with a hesitant squint in your eyes. “What are you playing at, Bear?” you wonder lowly, legs spread slightly to welcome his thigh between them.

Carmy bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His tattooed hands creep up the hem of your dress to urge you down onto his lap — the proper way. “You’re the one always sayin’ I’m too busy for you, right?” he responds, hardly expecting a real answer, as he helps you straddle one of his thighs.

The angle is awkward. The old chair leaves little room for the both of you. You’re forced to keep one leg on the ground while the other bends at the knee between his legs. You hold tight to his shoulders, trusting him to keep you steady. Your dress bunches at your hips in the meanwhile. Carmy raises his thigh until it’s flush against your clothed cunt. 

Your breath catches, and he smirks.

“So… You’re gonna cum on my thigh,” he continues casually. “…And after that, we’ll go home, I’ll fuck you like you need, and then I’ll run you a bath… How’s that sound?”

Your stomach swirls with a familiar warmth — which you can feel pooling in your panties now. “What about the PB&J?” you joke in a quiet voice that trembles only slightly.

Carmy scoffs a faint laugh. “After the bath.”

“What about in the bath?”

“Whatever you want,” he assures with a smile. “You just gotta ride me first.”

The lighthearted air turns bone-crushingly sensual in a flicker of a moment. His light eyes pierce you mercilessly, peering into the depths of your soul. You melt for him, going uncharacteristically soft and subservient, just how he likes.

Carmy helps you with a few passes over his thigh. You’re obviously unsure, and he can tell by your hesitant movements. His free hand squeezes your hip, urging you up his leg and down again, until you find your own rhythm. Then he turns back to his work and tries to focus. The soft sound of your breathy moans entwines with the scribbling of his pen.

You rock your hips in measured thrusts, trying to find the proper pace. The delicate fabric of your panties ruts along the rough denim of his jeans — catching your clit perfectly when you buck your hips just right. Lightning strikes down your spine, then. Both alleviating the ache between your thighs and creating a new one all at once. 

Your breath hitches. Pitiful whimpers sound in your throat instead. You bury them all in Carmy’s neck as you hide your face in his shoulder, with your warm cheek pressed to his ear and your fingers balling his shirt in your fists.

There was something foreignly erotic about all this. Being in Carmy’s office, the door unlocked, with Syd and Richie meandering elsewhere in the kitchen. The fear of being caught made your movements quick. Careless. Wild. 

And there was something about Carmy, too. The way he’s got you getting yourself off, with little help from the boy himself, while he busies himself with paperwork. You can hear him scribbling away still, flitting through papers with the hand not holding you. All while you hump his thigh, so desperate for attention. It’s pathetic. And something about it made you feel good.

Your pretty whimpers turn into deeper, breathier moans. Carmy smiles to himself. He can feel the warmth of your cunt despite the layers between you. It makes him wonder if you’ve left a stain on the denim. He prays you’ve left a stain on the denim — wants the mark of your honey stamped there forever.

“You close?” he murmurs when he notices your legs starting to tremble.

You bury a whine in his neck. “Fuck, Bear—”

“Hey,” he hums, pulling away from his paperwork for the first time in several minutes to look at you. 

His long fingers rise from your hip and curl into your hair. He tugs softly at the strands to urge your head back so he can admire his work. Your eyes are lidded and glassy, your lips swollen and parted — already fucked-out, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“I asked if you were close,” he repeats, unsmiling.

“Yes,” you manage through a whimper.

His grip on your hair slackens. His touch returns to your hip, encouraging your rapid movements. His pink lips quirk in the faintest hint of a smile. “Good,” he praises. “Good girl. Keep going.”

You bury your face in his neck again, lips curling around your teeth to stifle the moans swelling there. Your hips lose their rhythm as the threat of your orgasm grows. Your clit pounds like a second heartbeat. You briefly wonder if Carmy can feel it, and the thought alone sends you reeling.

“Carmy,” you keen, voice wavering. “I’m gonna cum.”

You feel him nod against you. He licks his lips and turns his head. His nose squishes your temple; his wet mouth brushes your ear. 

“Do it, then. C’mon,” he mumbles against you, coaxing you closer towards your pleasure — not because he’s a pro at the whole dirty-talking thing, but because he knows how much you like it. “Be a good girl and cum on my thigh. Come on.”

You last two more passes up and down his lap before you tense on top of him. Your hips still as you whimper into his shoulder, shuddering hard when your orgasm washes over you.

“Atta girl,” Carmy praises. “Keep cumming for me.”

He drops his pen and finally turns away from his work. He grips your hips with both hands and works you the rest of the way through your orgasm. You let him, for a few agonizing moments, until your high fades and leaves you achingly sensitive.

You inhale sharply through your nose and reach suddenly for his wrists. “No more,” you plead, then exhale a breathy chuckle.

When you part from his neck, Carmy ducks his head to catch your averted gaze. His wide eyes dart over your pleasure-stricken features. “You good?” he wonders. His words have lost any hint of sensuality. He’s always serious about checking in on you.

You nod and swallow hard. “’M good,” you promise, then freeze when your knee nudges his half-hard cock. “Are you good?” you parrot.

Carmy scoffs a breathy chuckle. “I’m almost done here— go bum a smoke from Richie, alright? I’ll out in a second.” 

He kisses you softly. A chaste kiss that’s perhaps too innocuous for such a honeyed moment. You rise on tired legs, and he swats playfully at your side. “How’s that for spending time together, huh?” he calls over his shoulder as you wrench open the office door.

“You’re an idiot, Bear.”

[sargebarnesx]

Jealousy

Pairing: Jim Hopper x female reader

Rating: 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Age gap, dirty talk, unprotected sex, sex in his office, Hop’s a bit of a dom

Words: 2.3k ish?

Summary: Phil Callahan has a massive crush on you and Jim Hopper doesn’t want to admit that he’s jealous.

Author’s Note: please forgive me for two things: 1. If Hopper seems a bit OOC, it’s been a while since I’ve watched ST but I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while. 2. If I missed any warning/info that should have been provided. I haven’t posted fanfic on tumblr in about a decade so I’m out of practice. Hope y’all enjoy though!

Jim Hopper would never admit to being jealous.

He would describe himself as laid back when it came to relationships. Besides, when was he ever tied down to anyone long enough to get jealous? He would go with the flow, which usually meant he would have one night stand after one night stand and never call any of them ever again.

Until he met you.

You were a decade younger, but that didn’t bother him. You had a past, hell, so did he. He didn’t care. You started working at the station, that was great, he could see you every day and he definitely didn’t mind that. There was only one thing that seemed to be bothering him lately…

Phil Callahan had a massive crush on you.

Jim Hopper would never admit to being jealous, especially not of Phil Callahan.

You wore tight skirts and cute heels to work, a stark contrast from Flo’s ankle-length dresses and sensible shoes. You were young and pretty, what did he expect? You spent a lot of your time flittering around the station, helping where you could, filing, cleaning, making and answering calls. In between all of that, you found time to innocently flirt with Phil. You knew what you were doing; you knew it was going to make Jim’s blood boil every time he caught you sitting on the corner of Phil’s desk in your tight black skirt that hugged the curve of your ass perfectly. You were putting on a show, albeit one that had maybe gone on for too long. But you wanted to see how long it would take Hopper to crack.

Your white button-up top exposed your collarbone, giving everyone at the station a tiny peek of the smooth skin hiding underneath it. The black pumps that adorned your feet made a clicking sound as you walked back and forth and back and forth. Every time you passed by Jim’s open office door, he looked up from his paperwork in the hope of catching a glimpse. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

Neither could Phil.

Why did that make him seethe with jealousy?

Deep down, he knew why. He knew why seeing another man’s eyes rake over your body drove him absolutely insane.

He knew it was because that body had been writhing underneath him a mere seven hours ago. He knew it was because when you woke up next to him this morning, all you wanted was his dick in your mouth. He knew that you were probably still thinking about the way he railed you before your morning shower with your hair wrapped around his fist. How could you not be? He certainly was.

You were walking around the station with a familiar swing in your hips, a skip in your step, humming one of your favorite songs. Flo had commented that you were in a surprisingly good mood for a Monday morning. No one knew the things the two of you did off the clock and Jim wasn’t sure if they should. He didn’t want people to think you only had a job because you were screwing the chief. You deserved a better reputation than the one he had earned.

Jim heard the clicking of your heels getting closer as you approached his office. “Hey chief,” you say, rapping your knuckles against the door frame. You held a brown folder in your hand. “Whatcha got?” Hopper asks, holding his hand out to take the folder. Before you could respond, you slowly pushed the door closed. “Somethin’ serious?” Jim raises an eyebrow at your actions but doesn’t question you further. You set the folder down on his desk gently.

“I can feel your eyes on me every time I walk by,” you say, sitting in the chair opposite his desk and crossing your legs at the knee. Hopper leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out. You can feel the tip of his shoe rub against your ankle. “Yeah?” He remarks, “Can you feel Callahan’s too?” You nod, rolling your eyes, “Of course I can, but you looking up from your paperwork each time I walk by is what’s got me distracted.”

Hopper smirks, dragging his eyes over your exposed thighs. “Is that so?” He asks, “Not Callahan panting like a dog at your feet?”

You run a hand slowly through your hair, flipping it to one side. “Phil has been like that since high school. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to realize that if he hasn’t gotten any from me by now, he never will,” you explain. Hopper nods, his face emotionless as he moves his legs away from you. You follow his actions and lean in toward his desk.

“Besides,” you say, “I’ve had a lot on my mind today and I can’t say Phil Callahan has crossed it even once. You, on the other hand…”

“Me?” Jim asks, leaning back in his chair with his hands crossed behind his head, “What about me?”

He knows what he’s doing. That was your invitation and he knows you’ll take it. He watches as your mouth quirks up the tiniest bit in the corner, always one for a challenge. Hopper watches intently as you stand and make your way around the desk. He happily obliges when you motion for him to push his chair back a bit.

His hands immediately fly to the backs of your thighs when you straddle him and he has to hold back a groan as your hot pussy brushes against him. He takes in a sharp breath as you lean close to his ear.

“The chief wants to know what I’m thinkin’?” Your breath is hot against the shell of his ear. He nods, rubbing his hands from the backs of your knees to the curve of your ass. “I’m thinkin’ about your cock, chief, and how it feels when you’re filling up my pussy,” you place a kiss on the side of his neck, “I’m thinkin’ about laying back on this desk so you can fuck me right now.”

Jim presses his face in the crook of your neck to hide his groan. He hopes his office is far enough away from everyone so they can’t hear him. “You feel too good, baby,” he thrusts his hips up, trying to get closer but there are too many layers, “You know I’ll be too loud.”

You kiss him, deep and hard, taking his hands and pushing them onto your ass. “Maybe Phil will hear you and realize he doesn’t stand a chance,” you whisper with a smirk against his mouth. Hopper squeezes your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, undoubtedly leaving a mark.

You push yourself back up into a standing position, then take a seat on his desk. “So, are you gonna help me?” You ask, placing your right foot on the arm of his chair, feeling your skirt ride up. His eyes rake over you, going from your hip to your ankle, and you can tell his fingers are itching to touch you. “Or am I gonna have to do it myself?” You lift your left leg and place it on the opposite arm, exposing yourself to him. You trail your fingers down between your legs, feeling the wet heat that has soaked your panties.

“Touch me,” you whine, pushing your panties to the side to thrust a finger deep into your throbbing pussy, “please.” He watches under hooded eyes, his hands resting on your ankles. Your finger circles your clit and you hold back a moan, remembering that there’s only a door separating the two of you from everyone else. His hands creep higher and he traces lightly across your skin. “Unbutton your shirt,” he murmurs. You pull your fingers away from your pussy, wet and glistening, and slowly slip your buttons open.

One by one, you expose the skin of your chest to him. He can see the black lace of your bra and the swell of your breasts, heaving up and down as you pull your shirt off. “Fuck,” he mutters, “You’re so damn beautiful.” He gets closer to you with these words, filling the space between your thighs. He places a kiss at the base of your throat and you gasp as his beard tickles your skin. “Jim…” you groan, “I need you right now.”

He stands, crowding you, towering over you, with one hand on his belt buckle. You can see how hard he is, how his big dick strains against his uniform pants. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you on my desk?” He asks under his breath, palming himself over his pants. You nod, lying back over folders and papers. He hooks a finger in each cup of your bra and pulls, exposing your tight, hard nipples. “You are so turned on, baby,” he whispers against your nipple before wrapping his lips around you, “Bet that sweet pussy is soaked.”

A chill runs down your spine at his words. You want nothing more than to have him ram his thick cock inside of you, but his tongue on your tits is driving you absolutely insane. You wrap your legs around his waist. “Jim, please,” you’re getting desperate at this point. You want him inside you now.

His belt falls open first. Then he pops open the button and lowers the zipper. You’re one layer away from finally feeling him. You tighten your legs and pull him into you, whining when you feel his length pressed against you. “Easy, baby,” he says softly, “Be patient.”

He pulls away from you and pushes his boxers down, finally. His cock bobs between the two of you and he hisses when the cool air hits him. He pumps himself a few times while you watch, wetness pooling between your legs. You want your panties off, you want him to fill you up, you want to feel him. “You ready for this cock, baby?” He says. You nod, “I’ve been ready. You know this pussy is yours.” He smirks, reaches under your skirt, and pulls your panties down your legs in one movement. You squirm as he takes his place back between your thighs. The head of his cock brushes against you and you moan, bucking your hips towards him.

Jim is grinning; he loves seeing how much you want him, how much you need him.

“You want it all?”

You nod again.

He pushes into you, so familiar, so filling. He groans into your mouth, bites down on your lip, and pumps his hips back and forth. You’re gripping his biceps, your noses are touching, and his eyes are trained on yours.

“Atta girl,” he groans, “Atta fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this. Taking my cock on my desk at the station. You think Callahan could take you like this? You think Callahan could make your pussy this wet?”

You shake your head.

“You want Callahan to fuck you on his desk out there? You wanna tease him until he can’t take it anymore?”

His thrusts are getting sloppy, his desk is creaking beneath you. He’s already gotten you there twice and is working towards a third. “Oh…baby…girl…fuck,” he moans, his words each enunciated by a snap of his hips. Your hands are gripping the hair at the base of his neck and you know without a doubt that your bottom lip will have an intense indent from your teeth.

“You want my cum? You want it deep inside this pussy?” He growls. You nod, unable to form words, unable to think with the cloud of bliss that is currently fogging up your brain. “Use your words, baby. I wanna hear you…” he says, gripping your wrists and slamming them down on his desk above your head. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice shaking, “Yes, please, cum inside me.”

Suddenly, you feel like a rubber band snaps somewhere deep inside of you. Your back arches off of the desk and your eyes squeeze shut; you wish he didn’t have your hands pinned above your head because you’d love to dig your nails into his strong shoulders. Then he’s moaning - loud and deep, while he spills himself inside of you. Your body goes limp as he wraps his arms around you. He’s so warm and you cry out at the absence of his heat when he pulls out of you. “Jim…” you whine.

“Shh,” he says, digging through his drawers to find a random towel that he knows is buried in there somewhere. It’s scratchy and has a couple of holes, but he uses it to clean you up. His rough grips have turned to soft touches. He gingerly puts your heels back on your feet while you fix your bra and pull your shirt back on. When you stand, he pulls the bottom of your skirt down and gives your ass a gentle squeeze.

It’s a silent remark, something that tells you he enjoyed himself, that he loves you, and that he wouldn’t mind a round two this evening when you both get home.

“How do I look?” You ask, gesturing to your hair. Hopper leans back in his chair and lights a cigarette, “Gorgeous, as always.”

You smooth your hands through your hair and quickly swipe under your eyes, realizing then that you’ve been in Hopper’s office for far too long, your mascara is far too smeared, and your once crisp and perfect shirt is far too wrinkled.

With one last glance at him, you reach for his office door handle and pull it open. An officer is standing there, frozen in place with his fist in the air as though he was about to knock. You slip past him, grab a stack of folders on your way back to your desk, and call over your shoulder, “Oh, hi Phil!”

[sugoi-writes]

Alastor x Reader - First Time, First Deal

A/N: Let me preface this with: yes, I am aware that Alastor is ace (and likely aroace). This is simply a work of fiction and nothing more! I tried keeping things pretty tame for the most part, but there's an opportunity for spice later down the road, should anyone enjoy this.

The reader uses she/her pronouns. The reader is a sinner whose body is essentially a ghost that changes/become corporal at times. Reader is EXTREMELY touch starved. (And let's be honest, aren't we all?) This part is fluffy and sickeningly sweet, with room for angst and smut down the road... so please enjoy my newfound brainrot~

Your time spent with the Hazbin Hotel had been progressing more positively than you hoped. Being a demon with a semi corporal body came with ups and downs... namely, that you had a hard time controlling your body's functions.

During bouts of anger or sadness, your body would change. You'd usually becoming hard, jagged, and brutal, or, one that you feared most: you became completely invisible. The only person who seemed to understand appeared to be Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. Despite being a reserved, somewhat distant person... he seemed to either understand or take pity on your situation.

You felt confident in his companionship, moreso as your sleepless nights crept upon you. You had all but sobbed in his private quarters, lamenting how touch starved you were. How the only time you've felt the touch of another being was during fits of rage or in conflict. When defending the hotel, you typically get pretty banged up and bruised. The sensations you did experience were never good... and you longed for something that felt right. Something that felt REAL and gentle.

Alastor seemed more than sympathetic, and would listen and even humor you. When your world was crumbling in, he always managed to make you smile and laugh... And the bond between the two of you festered, before erupting to an untamable flame.... at least, you knew it did for you.

When you were close to him, you found your body's hues changing... bright, soft pinks would flood your visage, especially in your face. Angel Dust would tease you especially hard, causing flecks of green and red to appear: annoyance, anger.... No matter your emotions and despite your best attempts, they were always on your sleeve.

One night in particular, you were having a very difficult time. You had thought back to your life in the human realm, to living on Earth... You had shared many things with others. Touch, kisses, and... more intimate gestures. You could imagine the sensations, but never experience them on your own. No, you would need someone that you TRULY trusted to help you... someone whose touch would be as rare as your predicament. Someone who wouldn't taint that touch with ulterior motives. Someone who wouldn't take advantage of your vulnerable state the second your walls caved in.

You had thought to ask Angel initially, but didn't want it to appear that you were using a sex worker only for his body... you had considered other sinners you met along the way, many of which who had left the hotel.

But there was one constant that crossed your mind: Alastor.

And with that, against your better judgment, you rapped quietly against his oak door. You were sheepish, hoping that he would be asleep, or too busy to answer. Hues of purple swirled through your body, as you felt your shape ebb and flow... the parts that felt real, the ones you could sense... they were soft, and just as pliable as your mind.

But you had no time to linger as the door to the Radio Demon's chambers creaked open. You fumbled with your appearance as Alastor's eyes and grin fell upon you, a singular brow raised.

"My Dear, it's quite late in the evening... are you troubled? Struggling to sleep again?" Alastor opened the door entirely, allowing you to enter. You nod, before nervously walking past the threshold. No going back now, you thought.

"I-- I know, Alastor. I hate bugging you so late at night, but-- you're the only person who can help me with my-- issue." Hues of hot pink swirled within you as Alastor gingerly closed his door, his head cocking to the side.

" Would you like to have tea with me, then? Perhaps something warm could help ease your--"

"Warmer than that," you practically yelped, your hands flying to mouth to cover it. You sigh, as your colors fluctuated again, your body acting as a kaleidoscope for Alastor to observe.

"I... i only ask of you because, well-- I feel like you would handle this... respectfully. Delicately." Alastor continues to grow more interested, the light emitting from you dancing about his chambers.

"Well, trying not to assume what you may need me for, I am flattered that you considered me for the task. I can assure you, a gentleman will always take the qualms of the fairer means seriously... Discreetly, if need arises."

Alastor's grin grows, a familiar glow reaching his wide eyes," Now then... what dea--.... arrangement... have you come to propose?"

You turn to face Alastor, your face warm as you spew your feelings at him, deep from your core. Your colors flash, swirling and colliding with each other haphazardly as you speak. At first, Alastor is intrigued, then appalled, and the more that you spill... the more his mind shifts. He can clearly see you weren't here for some petty favor, or a sinner's gambit... You were here for something more earnest than that. He should have known better than that, regarding you... You, the sinner who didn't deserve to be trapped here in Hell.

"I want-- I just want my first time in Hell to be with someone I can trust. In fact, it's only possible IF I can trust that person," you quickly added, advancing a few paces towards him.

For the first time since you've entered, you're silent. You don't make a sound as Alastor struggles to form a response. His eyes seem a little hazy, lost... You've stupefied him into speechlessness.

You sigh, your colors becoming more uniform, softer... you begin to shed the night gown that you managed to keep on this entire time (With your embarrassing predicament? It was RATHER impressive).

As it fell to the floor, Alastor's bewildered eyes were able to take in your full form... how the colors hugged and accentuated your form... how your hair bellowed behind you... how soft your face had become. For a moment, he swore he wasn't standing before his friend, but an angel from on High.

"Please... I know--- i know this is a lot to ask of you. But I can't spend an eternity of torment like this-- not when I have the option of seeing if it's possible. I NEED to know if its possible to be with someone like this."

Your attempts in this endeavor have been fruitless in the past, yet somehow: you were hopeful that this would be different. You were hopeful that Alastor would be different.

Alastor's smile softened, as he adjusted himself. She wasn't coming to him as a desperate harlot, nor some heated lover, he thought... she sought him without any sort of carnal threat. This sinner came to him as a friend.

This emotion made his core swell and seize simultaneously, his emotions conflicted. He had little to no desires of the flesh anymore, nor did he ever desire you past a platonic companionship... but here he was: feeling something. Something that he hadnt felt in such a long time.

He cleared his throat, before loosening his tie. You swallowed shallowly as it was taken off and tossed to the floor. Alastor approached your slowly, his mask still plastered to his face, though shakily.

"Let's make a deal, then...," Alastor speaks softly, the normal filter on his voice all but silenced. He reached out a hand, cautiously approaching your cheek.

"I will agree to see this event to a proper conclusion... whatever you'd like me to do, or try... I will earnestly do so until you're satisfied. In exchange..."

You felt your throat swell shut, as if you were being strangled. You could hardly see straight as Alastor came so close to you. You gasped when Alastor's hand finally made contact with the swell of your cheek, a thumb running over it tenderly. You sighed into the feeling, your face flushing a deep pink as you leaned into it. Yes, yes... this was EXACTLY what you needed!

"In exchange," he repeated," You will never let anyone else touch you like this: ever."

Your eyes shoot open, startled by the forwardness of the deal. You could hardly speak as you felt another hand come to rest on your hip, squeezing earnestly.

Alastor's smile seemed to shine more vividly due to the light you emmited, but it was... soft. It appeared genuine. A smile that was new to you. If Alastor had ulterior motives, you could not sense them at all...

You stammered over your words, perplexed," I-- I hadn't know that you-- that you had--"

Alastor chuckles, pulling you closer," Dear, call me a product of my time... but I don't believe in boughts of one-night passions. I don't believe in swingers or flings... if my mother taught me anything, she taught me that courting takes time. That it should be shared between two people, and two people alone."

You felt his hand reach for yours, before bringing it to his lips. Your eyelids fluttered as he began kissing your knuckles, one by one.

"You are the one I've been wanting to court; the only one that I plan to. And... it seems like it has been successful, thus far." A slight stretch of the truth, but one that Alastor knew you wouldn't be able to see through.

You were still reeling at your revelation as you were gently pushed backwards, landing on the edge of Alastor's bed. Your breathing picked up as Alastor knelt before you between your legs, his eyes level with yours.

"So... will you allow me to continue?"

You practically sighed out your answer, your head feeling hazy as your body practically sung for him to start," O-Of course.... please, make me yours, Alastor."

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x GP!Beefy!Superpowered!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4408

Requested by 🍬 anon: I'm back indeed😌and I have a request to make, could you write R adopting a superdog and surprising Nat with it? Like the dog somehow saves R and they have no choice but to keep them and take care of it😌

*slides $20 under the table* could the dog be a corgi who is an absolute menace to all the avengers?

-🍬

AN: Corgis are very special to me, so of course I will write this. 🥺Also, I threw in a smut scene, because this is not a Dirty Vulture fic without it.

No pronouns used.

“I still don’t really know what the point of me being in one of these is,” you say, rapping your knuckles on the metal wall of the van currently transporting you and your team to the apartment complex you’ve been sent to overturn. SHIELD had spent the last three months scoping out HYDRA activities from the entire building and they now had enough intel to send in the strike team: you, Natasha, Steve, and Clint.  

“Because we go in together,” Steve says, the ever optimistic leader of the pack. 

“Right.” You nod, cracking your knuckles through the padding of your gloves, a nervous habit you have before any mission. While this one was relatively simple (and you got to do it with Natasha, which for the longest time had been strictly forbidden by Fury after what happened in Budapest), you were still aware of the risks and dangers that came with the job.

Natasha’s hand rests lightly on your thigh and you look at her. She smiles softly at you, not saying anything, but you know exactly what she’s trying to communicate. 

Both of you will be okay.

You put your hand over hers and squeeze it. The van finally comes to a stop and the four of you pile out, standing on the empty, dark street. It’s well past midnight so there are few cars or people out. This kind of peace is rare in New York, but you’re also in one of the rougher neighborhoods, where people try to honor curfew for their own safety.

“Everyone ready?” Steve asks, strapping his shield to his arm.

“Hold on,” Natasha says, stepping up to you and cupping her hand around the back of your neck to pull you down to her level, kissing you with a passion that is usually reserved for the bedroom. She slips her tongue into your mouth as her hold on your neck tightens so you can’t pull away.

Steve and Clint stand there blinking at the two of you, Steve shocked by the public display of affection (as if he’s never witnessed it before), and Clint annoyed that this is the kind of thing he has to deal with more than he cares to.

Natasha finally pulls away and looks up at you, smiling when she sees a smudge of her lipstick on your lower lip. 

“Be safe, babe. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, stepping back from Natasha. You give Clint a bracing nod, and Steve a glare that can be interpreted as “You better watch my girl or else.” You close your eyes and picture the apartment on floor 2 that SHIELD showed you a model of ahead of time. By now, you’ve perfected your technique, but it’s still not the most enjoyable experience. There is a pressure around your entire body, almost like you’re surrounded by a tide of water, crushing you from every angle until you can’t take the pressure anymore and you explode.

Literally.

You disappear from your spot on the street in a cloud of white smoke, feeling like your body is being pushed through a tube before you expand to your full size again in the same empty apartment you had pictured. 

No matter how many times you teleported, it never seemed to get easier.

You shake out your limbs, feeling blood flow to your extremities once more, then start lumbering around the apartment to find the front door. It’s not even locked and you step out into the poorly lit hall, your ears straining for any movement behind any of the other apartment doors. SHIELD had warned you that the building was filled with a mix of actual HYDRA agents and legitimate residents, but it went without saying that none of them would take too kindly to an Avenger letting themselves in out of nowhere. 

“We’re entering the ground level now,” Steve’s voice crackles in your earpiece. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” you hiss back, stationing yourself outside door 1227. All you knew was that HYDRA had a lab cooking behind the door and that it was probably armed to the teeth. 

“Good. Wait for our signal.”

“Copy, Cap.”

You start counting down the seconds in your head as the rest of your team takes the old-fashioned route up the stairs to join you. Just as you reach 100, the door suddenly swings open and your mouth drops open.

“Wait–” This hadn’t been part of the plan; whoever was inside wasn’t supposed to know that you were here. A man with a shaved head stands in the doorway, holding what you think is a walking cane in his hands.

“What the hell?” he says. 

“Delivery?” you try, despite being empty-handed. You have to dodge backwards when he swings the cane at you with such force, the handle buries itself an inch-deep into the floor. “Relax, dude!” you say while retreating frantically. You notice he isn’t calling for backup (something you might be able to use to your advantage) as he yanks his cane out of the floor and advances on you. You’re pushed back down the hall, where the only escape is the window. Technically, you could teleport instantly to any place you could picture, but you know it would be a cop-out to leave like that while you were on official work.

“Where did you come from?” the man snarls, jabbing his cane at you and you lift your arms to protect your face (Natasha wouldn’t be very happy if that got damaged tonight). The cane stings where it makes contact even through your padded forearms and the pain irritates you more than anything. When the man swings the cane around for another strike aimed at your ribs, you grab onto the shaft and yank it towards yourself. The man stumbles, losing his grip on the cane and you take full control of it.

Without putting too much thought into it, you hold the cane in both heads and bring it down towards your knee, cleanly snapping the plastic in half. You toss the broken halves to the side, raising your arms in preparation of a legitimate fistfight, but the man seems to have other plans.

With a shout of rage, he charges at you like you personally hurt him by breaking his cane. You barely have time to react with the short distance between you before he collides with you like a cannonball. You tip backwards, not strong enough to slow his momentum, your back slamming into the window. The glass gives easily under your combined weight and all the blood rushes to your head as you fall headfirst down two stories.

As everything seems to process in slow motion, you wrap your arms around the man’s torso, twisting your bodies with lightning speed boosted by your superhuman abilities, so that you’re on top of him. Even in the dull moonlight, you see his eyes widen in shock when he realizes you’re going to land on him. 

You brace yourself for impact nonetheless, your jaw rattling and head whiplashing from the sudden stop as the man’s back bounces on the pavement. He goes limp beneath you and you push yourself off of him, standing and checking for any damage to your limbs. Fortunately, he took the brunt of the fall, and your enhanced physique along with your armor kept you in mint condition.

You take in your surroundings, finding yourself in a narrow alley adjacent to the apartment complex. It smells like sewage and garbage, almost strong enough to cause you to clap your hand over your nose to muffle the invasive scents. You glance up to see the glinting shards of remaining glass in the window you both had fallen out of. This hadn’t been part of the plan, but you hope the others won’t mind your detour. 

“Y/N, was that you?” Clint’s voice suddenly rings through your earpiece.

“What?” 

“We heard breaking glass.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it under control,” you lie, scratching your head and looking down at where the HYDRA agent fell. Except he’s not there anymore. “Oh, no–”

A considerable force slams into your side and you find yourself face-down on the pavement in the next second. Your cheek scrapes the asphalt as you roll onto your back, raising your arms defensively as the man points a gun at your head.

“How did you–” You know this is no time for small talk, but you can’t help your curiosity.

“Hail Hydra,” he interrupts, as if this is enough justification for how he managed to survive a two-story fall with you using him as a landing pad. You close your eyes and tense yourself for being torn apart by a piece of lead, but it doesn’t come. Instead of the thunder of a gunshot, there is a ferocious growl that can’t have possibly come from a human, and suddenly the HYDRA agent is screaming and swatting at a black blur attached to his ankle. He drops his gun and you kick it out of his reach, scrambling to get up.

“Down, down!” he yells. You’re not sure what kind of animal has latched onto him, but it has an unusually long body and stubby little legs that end in white paws. The man tries shaking the animal off violently, swinging his own leg towards the brick wall and you leap into action. You grab onto his shoulders and shove him back. He loses his balance and hits his head hard on the wall, slumping instantly and collapsing like a sack of potatoes.

“I hope that takes care of you,” you mutter, a little hesitant that a solid blow to his head would knock him out so easily. 

The animal, which you’ve now deciphered is a corgi, releases the man’s ankle and bounds up to you, opening its mouth in a goofy smile.

“Hi, little guy,” you say, kneeling and offering an open palm. “Thanks for your help.” The corgi’s entire body trembles in excitement as you pat his head. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” The corgi barks, but you can’t speak dog. “Well…I guess you can come with me for now.” You have no idea what you’re going to do with him in the long-term, but you don’t have time to think about that right now. You need to get back with the rest of your team.

The corgi’s stumpy tail wags and he grins adoringly at you. You’ve hardly known him for a minute, and you would already do anything for him. 

“What should I call you?” you ask, and he barks again. “Hmm…” Your eyes wander to the fallen HYDRA agent, for the first time you notice the badge hanging around his neck. It reads “M. Jacob.” You look back at the vibrating corgi. “How about Jacob? Does that sound okay?”

Jacob bounces on his paws and barks again, seemingly in agreement.

“Excellent. Come on, boy.” You click your tongue and he immediately falls in step beside you. The two of you exit the alley and walk around the apartment building, just in time to see the front doors burst open and Steve, Clint, and Natasha stumble out, all of them panting.

“Nice of you to join us,” Steve says. “Who’s your friend?”

“Jacob,” you answer, offering no further explanation.

“Y/N.” Natasha walks up to you, reaching up to brush your face and you cringe away when she rubs a bruise you didn’t know you had on your cheekbone. “What happened?”

“I’m fine.” You look down at Jacob, who stares at Natasha warily. “It’s okay, Jacob. She’s on our side.”

Jacob steps forward and sits down by Natasha’s feet, looking up at her expectantly for some attention. 

“And where exactly did you find him?” Natasha does not bend down to pet him. 

“He saved me back in the alley.”

“Why were you in the alley?”

“I…Uh…” You feel Steve and Clint’s judgmental eyes on you. You hadn’t done your part in the mission; in fact, the only thing you had done was almost gotten yourself killed and had now found possession of a stray dog. “I got a little distracted.”

“Because you saw the dog?” Clint asks, knowing your affinity for animals.

“No, it was a HYDRA agent actually,” you defend, frustrated.

“Sure, sure,” Clint says, but you can tell he’s not convinced.

“I was–” you start.

“Let’s get out of here,” Steve interrupts. “We got what we came here for anyway and we can debrief at the Tower.” The four of you (five including Jacob) start walking down the street towards the van again.

Natasha hangs back to walk alongside you, but she doesn’t reach for your hand the way she normally does. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, pausing outside the van as Steve and Clint climb into the back first. Jacob tries to join them, but the bumper is too high for him to reach, so his short back legs swing comically as he tries to heave his body up. You chuckle and bend down to scoop him up. He looks at you gratefully then scurries over to Clint, begging for attention from the archer.

“We can’t keep the dog, Y/N,” Natasha says, as you wait for her to get into the van first.

“Why not?”

“We have no idea where he came from. He could be one of HYDRA’s pets, or worse, an experiment by them.”

“He’s harmless, Nat,” you assure, and she sighs. Your willingness to trust had always been a point of contention in your relationship: Natasha always approached new situations, people, and things with a supremely guarded nature, while you practically threw all care to the wind if there was food or an animal involved. 

“How can you be so sure?” she asks.

You shrug. “I just know.”

“That’s not good enough, Y/N.”

“Please, Nat?” You give her your best puppy eyes (although Jacob could have easily beat you). “I’ll have Bruce run some tests to make sure Jacob’s not a HYDRA spy in disguise.”

Natasha stares at you, arms crossed over her chest. Her front zipper is drawn down just enough to reveal her cleavage, which is amplified when arms press her breasts up. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until she clears her throat and you hastily make eye contact with her. She smirks and you’re slightly annoyed at the distraction.

“So, can we keep the dog?” you ask, trying to remember the topic of conversation. 

“Fine. But you owe me later.” 

You already know exactly what that will entail, and you can’t remember the last time you had a night this successful. “Yay, thanks babe!” You peck her cheek quickly before she has a chance to tease you further and climb into the van to give your new friend all your attention. Jacob’s entire butt wiggles as you sit on the bench opposite Steve and Clint. He paws at your calf to beg to be carried into your lap and you cuddle him against your chest, enjoying the warmth of his fur. “You’re a good boy, Jacob. You’re gonna love your new home.”

***********************************************************************

Even though Jacob has four perfectly functional (albeit short) legs, you insist on carrying him all the way inside the Tower. Clint wakes up Bruce with a 2 a.m. phone call to bring him down to the lab, where he runs a few tests that Jacob seems to pass all of. He ties a loose blue rope around Jacob’s neck to act as a collar for now, and Steve dismisses everyone back to their quarters once Bruce declares Jacob safe to stay in the Tower, and you go upstairs with Natasha. 

“I still don’t know if this is a good idea,” she says.

“He’s harmless and super cute, Nat. Aren’t those the only two reasons you’re dating me anyway?” you add in jest.

“There’s a few other reasons.” Her hand comes down and squeezes your butt. She winks at you. “You should probably leave Jacob with Yelena and Kate so we can have some interrupted alone time.”

“I hope they’re awake.”

“Yelena never sleeps until we come back from a mission.”

“Okay.” You practically rush down the hall, Jacob bouncing in your arms and he glares at you with big brown eyes. Yelena’s door is open just as Natasha predicted, and you can hear her and Kate talking inside. “Um, hi, guys,” you say, entering her room unannounced and setting your new corgi on the floor. Jacob toddles forward, observing the two women with some uncertainty. 

Yelena and Kate are sitting with their backs propped up against the footer of Yelena’s bed, surrounded by a sea of colorful comic books they’d been discussing. 

“We’re back, and this is Jacob. We found him at the HYDRA apartment complex on our mission,” you rush to explain, feeling your pants embarrassingly begin to tighten at the thought of your girlfriend sprawled out on your bed and waiting for you. You could never really figure out why she was so horny after missions; you were convinced it was the way you looked in your suit. “Can he stay overnight with you two? Natasha and I…have some things to do.”

Neither Yelena nor Kate have time to ask any questions or roll their eyes in disgust as you hurry back to your bedroom and slam the door shut. 

Jacob stands there, looking almost concerned to be left alone by the only person he trusts so far. 

“Jacob!” Kate calls, pushing aside some of the comic books and holding a hand out for the black corgi to sniff. “Hi, buddy. I’m Kate and this is Yelena.” She makes the introduction as if the dog can comprehend their names. Jacob licks her hand and pads forward to bump her arm. “Yelena also has a dog called Fanny. I think she’ll like you, you’re very cute.” Jacob’s stump of a tail wags happily as Kate scratches behind his pointy ears.

“Speaking of, where is Fanny?” Yelena asks, suddenly reminded of her own dog’s absence. 

“She wandered off earlier, I think. She’ll be back soon.”

“Hopefully she doesn’t get too jealous of him,” Yelena says.

“Because Jacob’s cuter than her?” Kate asks. 

Yelena narrows her eyes at her. “You did not just say that. Do not let Fanny hear you say that or she will have you for breakfast.”

“No, she won’t, because you’ll protect me, right? Right, Yelena?” Kate says, looking at her friend in concern.

Yelena shakes her head. “I will make no promises, Kate Bishop. Tread very carefully.”

***********************************************************************

“Oh, fuck, baby. Right there,” Natasha gasps, her fists clenching in the sheets as your hips slap against her butt with every thrust. You drive forward with barely restrained strength, feeling the whole bed move and the frame bump against the wall. The heat around your cock is tight and silky, Natasha clenching around you rhythmically as you pound into her.

“You’re taking me so well,” you say, squeezing her hips in time with your thrusts. “Such a good girl for me.”

Natasha keens at the praise, dropping her face down into the pillow. You tilt your hips to adjust your angle, the ridges of her pussy dragging against your cockhead in such a way that you almost lose control. And Natasha almost does too, pushing back so you can fill her deeper and moaning in pleasure. 

“I’m almost there,” she warns, but you’re barely able to hear her over your own grunts. Wetness gushes around you suddenly, but you don’t stop your relentless pace until Natasha is whimpering and begging you to pull out. You’re careful to collapse next to her so you don’t crush her, rolling onto your back and your still-hard cock bobs and glistens with Natasha’s cum.

“You didn’t finish?” Natasha asks when she comes down from her high. You shake your head, your thighs clenching when she suddenly wraps her hand around your cock. “Take me again,” she insists, rolling onto her side facing away from you. Your muscular arms slink around her waist, pulling her closer to you and your cock slips easily into her again. This time, you are much more gentle with your thrusts, almost lazy as your exhaustion from the earlier mission finally begins to show itself.

You bury your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the vanilla scent from her shampoo. Natasha interlaces one of her hands with yours where you hold her just below her bellybutton, sighing in content at being wrapped up in your arms and filled at the same time. She can feel your abs flexing against her back as you try to maintain your pace, your breath hot on her neck as you near your release.

“Nat, can I–” you ask, and Natasha loves how you still ask for her permission before finishing inside her.

“Don’t let any drop go to waste,” she responds as you press your hips against the back of hers, cum spilling out of your cock in short, hard bursts. 

“Thank you, baby,” you murmur, your sweaty forehead nuzzling her neck. Natasha smiles.

***********************************************************************

Jacob wanders around Yelena’s room, sniffing in every nook and cranny and even walking all over Fanny’s bed. The girls watch him in amusement despite their growing exhaust at the early hour. 

“You’ll fit right in here, Jacob,” Kate says to Jacob, petting his back as he waddles by. “I’m not sure Tony will be happy to see another animal, though. He might start charging us fees.” She keeps her own dog, Lucky, at her apartment a few blocks down the street, but she visits the Tower so often that she might as well move over permanently. 

“If he does not let Jacob stay, I will cut his head off,” Yelena growls.

“Or, you can all just move in with me!” Kate says brightly, but Yelena doesn’t respond. Kate looks at Yelena and sees that she’s staring at the doorway, where Fanny has suddenly appeared. Fanny holds intense eye contact with the corgi perched on Yelena’s lap and for a few seconds, neither dog makes a move and everyone holds their breath.

With a vibrating growl that shakes her whole body, Fanny charges and Jacob leaps off Yelena’s lap to meet her, despite being barely a third of her size. Yelena lunges after Jacob, trying to wrap her body protectively around the small corgi, but he slips right through her arms and barks viciously at Fanny.

“Stop them!” she cries as Kate jumps into the fray, slipping her fingers under Jacob’s collar and pulling him back until he almost chokes. Yelena throws herself between the two dogs, hoping to break their eye contact and calm them down. Fanny snarls and snaps at Yelena, behavior Yelena has never before witnessed in her.

While Yelena yells at Fanny to back off, Kate struggles for her life to hold Jacob back. Despite the corgi’s diminutive size, he displays an extraordinary, almost supernatural, level of strength. In fact, it feels like her fingers are being crushed where they are wedged inside his collar, and upon closer inspection, Kate swears the corgi’s neck is thickening to the point where there is barely a millimeter of space left between her fingers and his fur.

“Yelena, are you seeing this?” she screeches, now trying to free her hand, but is only successful when the thin fabric snaps. Kate falls back, and now it is evident that Jacob is growing. Although he maintains the same long-backed, short-legged proportions, he is distinctly larger than Fanny now.

“Oh, God, what is happening?” Yelena says, crawling back from the giant corgi and shielding Fanny. Jacob barks, sounding deeper than before. He practically fills the room, the tops of his pointy ears brushing the ceiling and Kate screams in sheer fear as she presses herself against the wall to avoid being crushed on the floor. 

“Natasha! Y/N!” Yelena screams. “Get over here now!”

“Please!” Kate begs, before getting a mouthful of Jacob’s fur and coughing. Hopefully you and Natasha weren’t too busy to hear them…

***********************************************************************

“Natasha! Y/N!” 

You sit up instantly when you hear Yelena screaming both of your names, finally pulling out of Natasha and she whines at the loss of your cock, but doesn’t protest. She shares the same concerned expression as you as you jump out of bed, barely remembering to throw on a shirt and shorts before running down the hall. Natasha is right on your heels, wrapped in a blanket, and you get to Yelena’s room first.

Natasha’s sister is closest to the doorway, her body draped over Fanny. Kate is pressed up against the wall, her chest heaving like she’s run a marathon with something blue in her hands. Jacob is sitting in the center of the room, his ears pinned back against his head.

“What’s going on?” you gasp.

Yelena turns to you. “Did you…Did you see that?” she asks.

“See what?” Natasha crowds in from behind you.

“Your dog!” Kate says.

“Jacob, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You pat your thigh and the corgi comes running over, brushing his head against your leg, his tail wagging a little bit now. 

“Why are you asking him if he’s okay? That’s what you should be asking us,” Yelena growls.

“Your dog almost suffocated us all in here!” Kate bursts out. “He grew to the size of the room!”

“Grew? He looks fine.” You pick up the corgi for closer inspection, his paws dangling as you shift him at different angles to check for any injuries. “What are you guys talking about?”

“He grew,” Kate insists. “Look, he even broke out of his collar!” She shows you that the fabric in her hand is actually Jacob’s collar.

You shrug and put Jacob back on the floor. “That flimsy thing Banner put on him? It could have snapped just by grabbing onto it.”

“You cannot keep that dog, Y/N,” Yelena says. “He’s some kind of monster!”

“Don’t say that about Jacob!” you defend. “If you didn’t want to watch him again, you could’ve just said that.” You look down at the corgi, unable to believe your friends would be so rude to him. “Come on, Jacob. Let’s go back to our room.” And you and Natasha stroll back down the hall with your new pet, completely oblivious to the danger he could be.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Click here for Part 2!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[zyonsay]

Parisienne im Mund SKI AGGU

Summary: Shooting the Balla Balla MV!

Reader: Genderneutral

Warnings: Smoking

Now playing: 'Balla Balla' by Ski Aggu

AN: Heya everyone! Finally some Ski Aggu content! I feel like there's such a lack of fics about him, which probably is since he's a german artist who doesnt cater to anyone besides german speakers- At least thats how i imagine it?? Anyways! This was really hard to write cuz in my mind lil bro does NOT speak english, which makes it sooo difficult for me to make him speak english. Idk, maybe im just yapping. Alsooo!! I mostly write male readers but i thought since theres barely any ski aggu fics i‘d give a lil treat to fem aligned people too :)

 Die, die ich date, hat uns Karten für die Oper gekauft Doch ich kann heut nicht, weil ich mich mit meinen Govas besauf' Jemand legt mir eine Peitsche, doch die macht mir nichts aus, Weil ich hab' viele tolle Ranzen wie Scout

A row of dressed up people stood around, waiting for their cue. You were currently doing a favor for your friend from Hamburg, Luca. Recently he made more time for his main passion, filming music videos and social media content. Long story short, his buddy needed a bunch of people for a music video and since you owe him a favor, you gladly came along.

Ja, ich bin ein heißer Atze, ich tanz' bauchfrei im Club Hol' meinen Perso raus, doch nicht, weil ich mich ausweisen muss

The camera panned around the entrance of the club and music filled the room. Just beforehand you were personally introduced to the man in whose music video you’d appear.

“Hey, das ist Y/N. Basically meine rechte Hand.” Luca placed his arm around your shoulders, pulling you slightly into him while smiling widely. “Oh hey, danke fürs kommen!”, you blinked for a second, your german was sadly quite rusty. “Oh umm, sorry but my german is absolute shit.”, you pursed your lips shyly. The young guy in front of you smiled. “No problem! I’m Aggu by the way.” He held his hand out to dap you up. You interlinked your own hand with his. “Nice to meet you, love your music.” A genuine smile spread across your lips, which he immediately mirrored. He was known to wear a ski mask, but right now you were glad to be able to look into his blueish grey eyes. Something was drawing you to him, maybe his sharp features, his messy blond hair or the crooked but sweet smile. “Thanks! I’ve heard so much about you from Luca.” You tilted your head, nudging your friend who was still next to you. “Only good things, right?”

The smoke machines were going ham and the air inside the rented club was getting way too hot. Someone had brought along a bubble gun, so colorful glycerin blobs now bobbed through the air and occasionally landed on a person’s head. “Ok, nächster Take in 3, 2, 1!” Luca began filming and just how the instructions earlier had said, everybody started jumping around and dancing, mimicking the nightlife at a club. Music boomed trough a speaker, helping Aggu keep the pace and time his gestures correctly. The lights flashed, you purposely spilled your drink while dancing, the messier it looked, the better. It all began to feel more and more like a fever dream. Aggu had lit a cigarette and was wildly gesturing at the camera while singing to the lyrics, the melody of which flowed through the crowd.

Ich rapp' darüber, was in meinem Leben passiert, Treff' 'ne Granate im Backi, die meine Nägel lackiert, woah, mh Sie sagt mir: „Komm, wir gehen von hier“ Weil der Backstage Arsch ist wie ich später bei ihr.

Next up was a scene at the backstage, Luca had insisted stubbornly that you should play in that scene. Two seats were smushed into a corner and a few things were thrown around to make it look messy. You propped yourself in one of those seats, facing Aggu. He was rapping about something something nail polish, but all you knew is that you had to whisper in his ear for a take. Carefully, you leant closer to him, your back was turned against the camera. His scent was intoxicating, a light hint of smoke lingered on him. Feeling a bit cheeky, you laid your hand on the front of his shoulder, practically resting yourself against him. A slight flush spread across your cheeks at the proximity, you were thankful that the camera wasn’t filming your face.

Aggu leant over the bar and let out an exhausted huff. “Fertig!”, Luca grinned from one ear to another. The takes you had now were pretty damn good and even though it was fun, everybody was happy to finish the video shooting. “You ok?” You spun around on one of the barstools. “Hm?”, he hummed while tiredly lifting his head from where he was resting it, buried in his arms. “Yeah, just tired. But I’m happy with how it turned out.” You nodded lightly, stopping your endless spinning. “C’mon, I’ll sponsor you a Cig.” Even under the ski goggles you could see his eyes light up.

You placed a cigarette between your lips and then held out your pack of Parisiennes to him. The two of you were sat on the step of some stairs at the back entrance of the club, your legs touching. “You got fire?”, a slightly embarrassed look flashed over your face. Somehow you always forgot to bring your lighter – or you lose it by the time you need it. “Mhm.” Aggu hummed. He had taken the ski goggles off and once again you found yourself glancing at his eyes. He expected you to take the lighter into your own hands, but you just held your cigarette in place and leaned in towards him. A few strands of hair loosened and fell into your face. He couldn’t help his breath hitching at the closeness, he could smell your cologne. It smelled like green tea mixed with a minty undertone, or to put it differently, a breath of fresh air. It took Aggu a second to register your movement, but he then reached his lighter forward, holding the flame to the cigarette between your lips. The orange light illuminated your face and made it glow; he was mesmerized. Your eyes fluttered open and you caught him looking at you, a slight smile spread across your lips.

Ich bin balla-balla Komplett gaga Parisienne im Mund, ich bin ein toller Macker

With a sweet, slightly stupid grin he lit his own cigarette. A light chuckle escaped you, he seemed to fancy you as much as you fancied him. He took a long drag of his cigarette before leaning against your shoulder, the nicotine rush fuzzing up his mind.

Ich bin balla-balla Komplett gaga Ihr Swag 2010, sie trägt einen Rock mit Brakka

[honeylullaby]

“I have waited for the day.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by sweet @megangovier 🫶🏽 Distraught from your very recent breakup, you seek solace in the only person you can trust…

18+ FANFIC / A gorgeous mixture of soft & vague smut. Short Work. Reader character aged 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷

Rapping violently against the door of Penscombe Court, mascara flowing down your cheeks like inky waterfalls, you sniffle and fiddle with the tips of your fingers anxiously. It was a beautiful Spring day, the mellow sunlight cast a golden glow across Penscombe Court and the magnificent weeping willow tree in the driveway swayed fantastically in the gentle breeze. However, it was hard to appreciate the springtime beauty through glassy eyes. Barking contentedly as he sprints towards you, Blue, Rupert’s lurcher, circled around your feet and wagged his tail. It had been ever such a long time since you have seen him, but you were overjoyed that he recognised you. “Hello, my darling. Oh, how I’ve missed you. Where on Earth is your Dad?” You sniffled, bending down to stroke his back softly.

The front door slowly creaked open to reveal the man you had so desperately missed, wearing only a pair of beige tweed trousers and a vile brown leather belt, reading a copy of Tess of the d’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy. “Dear God, what on Earth’s the matter, angel?” Rupert questioned you upon seeing the distraught expression painted across your face. “Can I come in?” You ask, pushing your way past him and into the sitting room before he could respond.

“You’re in luck.” Rupert spoke as he rifled through his drinks cabinet, and promptly brandished a large bottle of Gordon’s. Pouring you a disgustingly strong gin & tonic, Rupert collapsed onto the space beside you, resting his book down gently on the coffee table and lighting you both a cigarette. You accept it graciously and take a long drag, dazzling emerald eyes piercing through the thick cloud of smoke. “Fucking prick. I don’t know how I put up with him for so long. After everything I dealt with, he finishes me?” You scoff and watch as Blue carefully pads into the room, curling over your feet. “I have waited for the day. If anything, I’m glad that rotter finished with you, you were much too marvellous for him. At least he will leave you alone.” Rupert tuts, biting his bottom lip exasperatedly.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” You paused for a moment, “It’s working, carry on.” Your words were accompanied with a congested giggle. That sound is heavenly, Rupert thought to himself as his pique expression softened. “I really don’t think I can bare to be alone tonight. Do you mind if I crash here? Just for one night.” You muttered under your breath as you picked at a small hole in your tights, gaping it and creating a ladder that tore from your thigh to your kneecap. “Of course you can, if you allow me to rip your tights someplace else.” Rupert teased, slugging back his gin & tonic and promptly pouring you both another.

His suggestive comment made your knees tremble with a feeling unfamiliar to you — why was Rupert making you feel so weakened? “Do you mind if Blue stays with me in the guest room?” You question, leaning down to give the darling lurcher a pat. “You needn’t. If you’re feeling particularly lonely after your breakup, you should stay in my room. I’ll keep you company.” His eyes narrowly enticingly as he spoke. The awful, lustful burning in your loins made you feel terribly reprehensible. You had been single for, you pause to check your watch, two hours — and already had a overpowering desire to remove that brown leather belt of his.

Taking a swig of what was your third gin & tonic, you recognised that spectacular dizzying feeling, your mind thick with gin and terrible ideas. By now, the sunset was flourishing in majestic washes of rose pink, striking amethyst and breathtaking paprika-orange. “Care to take this outside?” Rupert asked, lifting the bottle of gin from the table and sliding open the glass doors. With a small nod of your head, you follow him and take a seat at the bench just outside the door.

As to be expected, Blue bounded into the garden after you both, rolling on his back across the dew-coated grass. A small, joyful giggle left your lips, which coaxed Rupert to flare up at you again, rubbing his tongue over his lips. “I might join you there, Blue.” You mumble, now laying on your back as the silver dog collapsed onto your chest. My God, she’s beautiful, Rupert thought to himself. “Your ladder is getting worse.” He chuckled, leaning down beside you and placing his finger through the ladder, pulling at it slightly. “Inside, Blue.” Rupert points towards the sitting room in a firm manner, and Blue immediately complied.

His tender caress of your leg made your lip wobble in desire, and he basked in every moment of it. “Rupert…” You whispered, gazing up at him with innocent, glittering eyes. “Angel. I need you.” Rupert mumbled softly in response, but your lips were crashing together lustfully before the final word could leave his mouth. “I must have you.” You fretted, and raised yourself onto your elbows, fiddling with his belt and throwing it to the ground. “Are you terribly sure?” The man spoke eloquently, but you hiked your dress to your belly and nodded your head. Gripping your tights on either side of your thighs, he tore them from you with a resounding rippp, exhorted by the sound of your maniacal giggles. “Angel. Whilst it’s turning me on awfully to tear these tights from you, I must tell you something.” He faltered, and lay back down beside you. “What? It’s not something bad, is it?” You whisper carefully into the air.

“No, no, not at all.” Rupert reaffirmed. “But it’s something you must know. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so strongly about someone before. You interrupt my every thought.” And just like that, everything was in slow motion. It was like every birthday and Christmas combined into one lovesick jumble. “I’m terrified to say that I think I love you.” You replied, and every trouble and doubt melted away.

[burnthoneydrops]

Could you do a fluff Jamie Tartt imagine where the reader takes care of a drunk Jamie who forgets that they've been dating for months and thinks they're back in their crush phase after they and the boys went out celebrating a win?

Drunk in the Back of the Car (j.t. x fem!reader)

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 654

warnings: language, alcohol

a/n: here you go love! i hope you like it and requests continue to be open!! (also first time writing for jamie so pls be kind lol)

The early 2000’s pop music blasting through the speakers was about to make your brain explode. The boys were celebrating a great victory in their match earlier that day and had all decided to crash this club that Colin had found. The flashing lights and sticky floors were slightly off-putting but the boys just wanted to celebrate and Jamie had insisted you came along too. Keeley and Roy were somewhere, probably at a table stuffed in a corner as Roy hated anyone spotting him. Isaac immediately bought a round of drinks upon entry and thus started the flow of alcohol. You were just glad that you and Jamie had agreed that you would drive home so he could properly celebrate. 

Speaking of your boyfriend, he was nowhere to be seen. A group of you had been gathered in front of the bar, chatting and drinking and dancing- though somewhat badly- and then as the night aged on and people found different things that piqued their interests, the group dispersed into smaller groups across the club. You were clumped together with Colin and Sam, chatting about the opposing team from the earlier match, while Colin interspersed some lyrics from the rap songs that were playing overhead. While laughing at Colin doing this weird dance while rapping, you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“Your boyfriend is smashed,” Roy commented as he held Jamie under his arms. He was clearly having a hard time standing on his own and it seemed like Roy had dragged him from wherever they were previously stationed. 

“I’m fine grandad,” Jamie retorted, though slurred and he clearly had to put a lot of thought into the short sentence. 

“I’ll take him,” you smiled at Roy, silently thanking him for making sure Jamie got back to you. He nodded and passed Jamie over to you before he walked off, probably going back to find Keeley again. You grabbed one of Jamie’s arms and threw it over your shoulders, leaning his weight into you. “Looks like I’d better get this one home. Enjoy the rest of your night lads”. Sam and Colin say their goodbyes before going to find the other boys. 

“Woah, you better be careful there. I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t think she’d like you touching me like this,” Jamie tries to stand up straighter to get away from you, but almost immediately tips back over. 

“I am your girlfriend,” you laugh. 

“No way,” Jamie says quietly, in an ‘I can’t believe it’ type of way. 

“Come on Jams, let’s get you home”. 

Despite the copious amounts of effort it took to get Jamie through your front door- which included him almost throwing up in the back seat of your car- you finally got him in bed in a semi-comfortable position. Once you were sure he wasn’t going to throw up in the bed, at least long enough for you to get ready for bed, you headed to the bathroom to take your makeup off and change out of your clubbing outfit. 

“Y/N?” You heard Jamie call from the bed. 

“Yes love?” you question, sticking your head out of the bathroom doorway. 

“How’d you get into my house?” 

“I have a key Jams,” you laugh. 

“Did I give you that?” He tilts his head. 

“How sloshed did you get Jamie?” You move closer to him, sitting down next to him on the bed. 

“Oh my god I’ve got Y/N in my bed,” he whispers more to himself. 

“I’ve been sharing a bed with you for the past two months, love,” you remind him, moving his hair away from his sticky forehead. 

“Holy shit, no way,” he mutters before passing out again. You laugh at his antics and go back to the bathroom, finishing your nighttime routine before grabbing some water and aspirin for the morning. You were so going to make fun of him tomorrow for this.

[shingekinomyfeelings]

too much, not enough (Reiner x gn reader; hurt/comfort)

swf. unspecified setting/timeline. ~450 words. mild warning for depictions of depression

Reiner finds you in a vulnerable state and offers an assurance.

notes: I wrote this after a nasty fight with someone left me feeling like a POS, because I guess this is the kind of thing I wish I had someone to tell me when I'm fucked up. It's super short and I'm pretty sure I was crying my eyes out while I wrote it, but it did make me feel better, so I hope it does the same for someone else.

Reader is gender neutral, and this could easily be either canon universe or an AU; it's up to you, friendos.

Originally published March 2023.

You’ve been staring at the wall for longer than you realize, curled on your side on the bed, wrapped in an air of listlessness and lethargy. That’s how Reiner finds you, as he has before, and he doesn’t need to see your tired, reddened eyes to know that you’re struggling again.

He makes his voice soft – as soft as he’s able, anyway – as he calls your name, and you respond with a delayed lift of your hand before you let it flop back to your side. Reiner crosses the room and clambers onto the bed to lay curled around you as best he can.

“Hey, dove.” He tugs you against him and rests his chin on your shoulder, his stubble scratchy against your skin, and you can feel his voice rumble in his chest as he asks, “You wanna talk?”

You’re slow to speak, knowing that when you do, the tears will start flowing again, and reply haltingly, “Do you ever feel like... you’re somehow simultaneously too much for everyone, and not enough for anyone?”

Reiner blinks, considering how to answer the question. He could tell you, and he’d mean every word of it, that you’re never too much for him, that you’ve always been enough, but he knows as well as anyone can that simply telling someone that their self-loathing assertions are wrong doesn’t really make them disappear. So, after a brief pause, he answers honestly, “Not as often, since I’ve been with you.”

You take a deep breath and try to steady your voice, but it still comes out as a half-whimper, “Sometimes I don’t understand why you put up with me.”

“Hrmm…” Reiner tucks a few errant strands of hair behind your ear and out of your weary face. “Same reason you put up with me?”

You can’t help but sound borderline offended as you reply, “But I don’t ‘put up’ with you, I love you. Even when you do make me aggravated now and then, it’s always been worth it for all the other times I have with you.”

He very gently raps his knuckles against the top of your head, his voice still soft. “So, same reason, then.”

This brings on a fresh wave of tears as you reach to take his hand in yours and press your lips to his fingers, trying not to tremble or cry. He kisses your jawline and intertwines his fingers with yours to give your hand a tight squeeze. “You can cry if you need to. I’ll stay here.”

And then all you can do is let yourself cry softly, until the tears slow and the sound of his breathing lulls you into a rest.

And outside, you can hear birds singing...

[winniemaywebber]

The Apple Tree • Part 5

warnings: none!!! just sad

read previous chapter here

Y/N struggles with not knowing where Rosie is.

Every day had been the same since Rosie had gone MIA. You'd wake up, head feeling like it was in a vice and get to the school on autopilot. The sky had been appropriately gray, and thick with fog most mornings, the twin of your current state of mind. You'd stay at the school late, grading papers and try your best to construct meaningful lesson plans so the children could still thrive and learn despite your sadness. They'd sometimes ask, their sweet, little faces full of sympathy as they'd question your upset. “Miss?” A little voice would say, “Are you alright?” You'd force a smile on your face and look back at them reassuringly. 

“Yes, my dear,” your voice catching in your throat. “I'll be fine.”

---

A week. And then two. Three, then four, all rolling into a ball of nothingness, blurring together. Most days, you're greeted by Sally who is always available to walk you home despite the treacherous weather and everyday she looks at you with her big sad eyes, shaking her head mournfully, wordlessly reminding you that there's no new information. Most days, you walk home in silence, her arm in yours, keeping you upright physically as well as metaphorically.

It's on the fourth week, on a Friday, that you hear a sharp rap on your door. Being in bed already - the only way you can seem to feel close to Rosie - you simply yell “come in!” to whoever is visiting at this late hour. You hear the door open quietly, and hear the familiar tip-tap of Sally in her kitten heels. You hear her kicking them off and placing them by the door, hurrying up the stairs in her now stockinged feet, padding all the way up the plush carpet. 

“Hi, darling,” she greets quietly, her face full of sympathy. “I thought I'd try coax you out to the pub.”

“No thanks,” you mumble, staring up at the ceiling. “I'm fine here.”

“Oh, doll,” she begins, walking towards the bed. “How are you doing?” Still not tearing your eyes from the ceiling, you nod quickly, trying to reassure your friend. But she knows you better than that, and after all these years, she can read you like a book. Before you can properly respond, she sees two tears leak from each eye and splash into your ears and on the pillow. 

Trying to comfort you the way she used to when you were kids, she goes to lay down next to you on the bed.

“No!” you start. “N-no, Sal. Don't lay there,” you softly weep. “That's where Rosie slept the night before–” You wipe your face with the back of your hand, trying to stop the tears flowing. “It still smells like him. Don't lay on it, Sal.” You pause, looking at your friend, her own eyes full of tears. She sniffs, trying to blink them back. 

“Then squidge up,” she says after a moment. “I'll lay on your pillow with you.” You wriggle slightly to the right to make room for her in the center of the bed, you just hanging off the edge slightly. She takes your hand and strokes it, just like she did right after Granny passed away. You whimper at her action, the sob that was thick in your throat finally being released. 

“Where is he, Sally? Where's my boy?”

“Y/N…darling…I don't know. I ask James everyday for an update. He's promised that he'll be round here like a shot if he ever finds anything out.” You nod, swallowing as you sniff back more tears.

“He's a good egg, Sal. I like him. I like how happy he makes you.”

“Me, too,” she sighs wistfully. “When all this is all over, I'm thinking of moving there to be with him.” 

“Sally, that's wonderful. I'll miss you terribly–”

“But let's not talk of that now. We need to take care of you.” She crawls off the bed and pulls you with her. “Come on,” she commands, rushing to your wardrobe. “You need to stop rotting. Let's go to the pub. Apparently, Rita is engaged to two of the Americans and neither knows about the other. Isn't that something?” You hear yourself gasp and then giggle, the first laugh you've made in weeks. 

“Well, now you've tempted me. Now I have to come.” 

—

The excited yapping you hear as you walk into the pub ceases at the sight of you, your friends looking back at you in surprise, before they stand up and rush to hug you, one by one. Murmurs of “oh, Y/N, we're so happy to see you,” and “how are you doing?” follow their embraces, and you find your eyes leaking at their affection and sympathy. Hugging them back, you sigh, not quite used to this level of affection.

 “Alright, ladies,” you struggle to gasp out, but smiling nonetheless. “I need to know everything about Rita. Spill.” 

They sit down, excited to finally be able to tell you the tales they've heard over the past few weeks. For a moment, your head is clear, listening to your friends chatter on, their voices octaves higher as they giggle their way through the spiel. You don't even notice that Sally has rushed over to the bar to greet James, until he places a pint in front of you with a sympathetic smile. He winks at you as you smile back, knowing you're thanking him with no words needed. You take a long sip, letting the alcohol run through your body and somehow, giving it warmth as you finally are able to enjoy something.

“So, she ended up saying yes to both men because she didn't want to upset either of them, and somehow, Y/N, neither knows about the other. But, get this! They're co-pilots!”

“What?!” you screech, ale almost flying through your nose in shock. “They must know! There's absolutely no way–”

“We thought that, too!” Sally replies, wide eyed and a little frazzled. “But Rita maintains that they have no clue.”

“Nope, not buying it,” you giggle, hand covering your mouth. “They must talk about her to one another! They're either ignoring it or somehow, it's not clicking that they're both with the same girl!” 

For just a small moment, your overwhelming sadness is forgotten, the pit in your stomach somehow smaller than it had been in the past weeks. But, then, all of a sudden, your mind goes back to the night you spent with him; how he'd touched you, the way he'd wrapped himself around you to fall asleep for those few hours. The way he looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. It's those thoughts that send you into a tailspin, lips pressed together to keep the tears at bay. Draining your glass, you gesture over to the barman for another and try to keep breathing steadily. 

—

“Hey! Wait, seriously? You're not lyin’ to me?” You hear a familiar Tennessee drawl behind you, and an excited one at that. “Croz, she's right there!” They both pause for a moment. “Can I tell her, sir?”

“Sure thing,” Croz replies. You turn around at the two familiar voices. James smiling brightly at you, Harry nervously shuffling from one foot to the other, clutching his hat in his slightly shaking hands. 

“Y/N, c'mere, doll!” James beckons you over with his booming voice. You stand and walk towards the two men, forcing a polite smile on your face. 

“Hi, James. Oh, Harry, wonderful to see you. Can I get you a drink?” 

“No, ma'am,” he replies, now not able to hold back his apparent joy. “Pearson here has something to tell you. I've been rushing all over base looking for this fella to tell him what he's about to tell you.” You look at James with an expectant expression, feeling your eyes widen. He can't seem to get the words out, nor keep a straight face. 

“Out with it, Jimmy, before I lose my mind!” You scold, playfully pushing him. 

“Rosie got word to base!” 

“What?!” you shout, your arms going across your chest in shock. “W-where is he?” Tears fill your eyes and they escape before you're aware of what's happening. 

“He got shot down in Berlin,” Croz begins, his downturned eyes having an underlying sadness to them as he looks at you. “But, he managed to keep the plane flying until everyone had bailed out. He's in Russia.” 

“Russia? He's safe, right?”

“Yes, ma'am. He says they're taking really good care of him.” Harry laughs a little, wondering whether to divulge further information. You see that, and nod at him to carry on. “He says the vodka is impeccable.” Laughing, you feel familiar arms around your waist, Sally's head on your shoulder, half laughing, half crying as she hears the news. 

Word spreads to the rest of the pub, the airmen cheering and hugging at the news. James hands you a whiskey, then thrusting one in Croz's hand. You clink glasses with him, and with James before turning back to Harry.

“Thank you,” you begin, voice shaking slightly. “Thank you for coming to tell me, for even thinking of me.”

“No problem,” he replies nervously. “To Rosie?”

“To Rosie.”

---

thank you once again to my besties @sagesolsticewrites and @ginabaker1666 for reading this multiple times before posting (as usual!!!) <3

chapter 6

masterlist

[veren-cos]

There is Pleanty to Love

Asmo (OM) x reader who struggles with self love.

Can be read as platonic or romantic. Unless you are a strict romantic cuddler lol

*knock knock knock*

Three times you rapped upon his door. "Just a moment hun!" You could hear him setting things down on his dresser before opening the door. "Well hello darling! To what do I owe the pleasure?" His smile. Oh how much you needed his smile.

"Asmo.."

"Yes?"

And you pulled him into a hug. "Can I just be with you for a while? I really don't want to be by myself.."

"Oh dear.." You felt his hands caressing your back. So softly, delicately. "Of course, come in." He shifted so his hand was around your waist, and led you to his bed.

Despite him being the literal avatar of lust, you never felt any pressure around him. Asmo was safe, comfortable. He was someone you could depend on, and be emotionally close with. And as much as he loved physical attention, he never expected it from you. So once he got you laying down, he held you close. Never crossing a boundary. Just being there for you, secure.

He started messing with your hair again, "You know, I'm always here for you, love. And I know sometimes you just need to be with someone, and I love to be that person for you." He pauses, "But sometimes talking about it can make it worlds better. Right? And you don't have to. But I want you to know that you can, no matter what it's about."

Why was it so hard for you to open up? You've never felt shame around him, except when it came to this. God you hated yourself for feeling like this. You hated yourself for not being able to talk about it. You hated yourself, you hated yourself, you hated your-

"Hey!" Asmo squeezed you a bit. "You spaced out a second there. Seriously, hun, is everything alright?"

"Fuck" How did you ever start this. "Asmo, I.."

"It's okay, take your time."

"Asmo how are you so loving?"

"What do you mean?" He shifted so his legs were entangled with yours, pushing against your back.

You shuffled to face him. "I mean. You show your love to everyone. And you are so confident with it. Especially with how confident you are about loving yourself.."

And you could tell it clicked in his head, "Do you not? Love yourself, I mean." Diavolo, he sounded defeated. So broken at the thought that *you* didn't love yourself.

And your silence was as much of an answer as words.

"Dear. Loving yourself takes a long time. I mean, not for me! I've loved myself from the start!" Normally his antics make you smile or laugh, but it fell flat. "Alright seriously though hun, it's a lot of work. You have to accept all of your flaws, as well as your charms. And finding love for your flaws is so hard. I've seen near every person struggle to love themselves. And as much as I seem confident, it can be a struggle for me too. But a comfort is that everyone here loves you. All my brothers, Simeon, Solomon, Luke. Diavolo and Barbatos. Everyone. We are all here for you, whatever you need."

And you never thought that you could cry from feeling loved. But here you were, tears flowing down as you held Asmo tighter. "Is it really okay?"

"Oh sweetheart. " He kissed the top of your head. "You'll be alright. It's okay to lean on us. On me. You'll be alright. And trust me, if you can't find something to love about yourself, the rest of us will give you all the love you could ever ask for to make up for it. You've got time. And there is plenty to love."

Masterlist

An* Originally this was going to be a more specific fic, but I thought it flowed really well the way it is. So here you go!

[lucifersresources]

stupid shit said in discord servers part four meme. ft special guests from my dnd party!

edit/alter/change pronouns etc as you see fit!  

i never wanna think a cop is funny.

flirty rat man was my nickname in college.

the moon sounds like a fun place to be.

thinking a cop is funny is a gateway drug to being a republican.

today i learned she would punch a seagull.

booty call via shared thoughts.

it's fallen angel math.

i want em gorgeous, awful and bloody.

the fuck did i just read.

i just didn't know what knotting was. i miss those times. i miss five minutes ago.

you're not an edgelord, you're just pathetic.

there will be no butt sniffing in my god fearing house!

wanna see how gay my kindle looks?

i saw a book review titled "unlikely travel companions fight their inner demons" and i just think that's all of us

come to america and we can lay down together with no spoons

sitting in vc with the two of you is probably a bit like couples therapy

i'm not a planner i'm a go with the flow-er

penguins are all non binary, confirmed

the world is a gay penguin waiting to fly

this is a win for the lgbtqa+ community, penguins are gay

new pride mascot just dropped: penguins

it'll be me shoving you in the PIT OF HELL

i'd push my friendguin off an iceberg for money ngl

penguins can accidentally end up in gay relationships

penguins are friends not food

they made weed legal in my state so now all the cop dogs are confused

they always stand there dick to dick

the giraffe wanted a pillow

have you smelt the grass?

like, sure, i am picking fights, but in an affectionate way

well now i'm contractually obligated to fight you

it's like a suburban mom's wet dream

NO ONE EVER TRUSTS WHAT I SAY. THATS LIKE GIVING ME THE NUCLEAR CODES

sure, i'm better than donald trump, BUT LIKE THAT ISNT SAYING MUCH

doe, a deer, a female deer. Die, a long long way to hell -

i know you're a bot but get a grip

the jerking off motion at you is flirting

i hate it when my upper body grippers don't grip.

have you tried the lower grippers?

having to explain my joke makes me want to murder you

don't take my inches away from me, i need all the ones i can get.

nevermind, I'm not an eldritch horror anymore

are you a pretty worm?

i'll airfry a ghost i'm not afraid

kinky. not into that though

gay stuff in the creepy basement causes swollen lips?

*eddie culz voice:* say it out loud.

my brain just imagined Edward Cullen in like a rap outfit

eddie culz before the beat drops: hold on tight spider monkey

but am i a pretty melon?

what is ur secret, thumb

you guys are both bullies, you dont count

i am a hole

not to be a hole about it, but me too.

i am become cheese

mm i'm so edible.

STOP THE LESBIANISM SHES TOO OLD FOR YOU

DON'T LICK MY ASS

i was eating my ass

sometimes it takes a dick to teach

when u don't get a regular boner but a fang boner

he fakes his death a lot

the threat is… unthreatening at best.

i imagined a finger waggle. it’s important.

the ghosts are still in *name* and *name's* head. fucking sick bro.

we see an exorcist fucking freak crawling along the ceiling...

Dora The Explorer: Madre, Pick Me Up I’m Scared Edition

Skel and the eTons make their debut into the world.

YOU GOT NOTHING IN YOUR BRAIN! HOLLOW MAN NO BRAIN!!!!

critique me, writing daddy

it's me and my guiding bolt against the world

humans can’t exactly lick their own assholes

[dusty-cobweb]

julian bashir is a british drill rap legend btw.

he got into it shortly after turning 15 because he wanted to rebel against his parents. and what’s a better way to disappoint your posh english parents then to begin drilll? so julian went to the underground drill battles, watched and analyzed their flow and behavior and replicated it /perfectly/. soon enough, he was the pinnacle of english drill.

flash forward to ds9 and everyone is at quark’s celebrating a successful first contact or whatever and quark busts out the karaoke. dax does her klingon opera, miles does “500 miles”, even sisko joins in. the night goes, the drinks flow and eventually the attention turns to our dear doctor bashir and his musical talents. he tries to refuse at first, but with everyone pressuring him how can he refuse? he gets on the stage and everyone is ready for him to make a fool of himself. and then he starts rapping. what the fuck. dax is going insane, throwing sisko around by the shoulders. miles spits out his drink. kira is awe struck at this new side of the doctor. who would’ve guessed that the CMO is a drill GOD.

[moodymisty]

Hiya! Could I request some Magnus / GN! Reader shenanigans? Like the reader is trying to learn a spell (to impress Magnus), does it by "The books are just guidelines anyways", and it works. Then they go to show Magnus and confusion hell breaks loose Blease and thankyou <3<3<3

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Magnus time! I was actually working on something just like this, so this gave me the motivation to really spruce it up and finish it. But I really apologize because when I reread your request I realized I might've gone a bit less silly than you might've wanted. I hope you still enjoy.

Relationship: Magnus the Red/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None apart from this being my first time writing Magnus so please forgive me figuring him out I'm sorry if he feels off

Word Count: 1220

Sorcery is by it's very nature, finicky.

It has no solid answer, no yes or no. It's not as if it's a machine you can turn on or off, or a star you can see is alive or dead. It's an ebb and flow- something you feel.

But how do you feel something you've never felt before?

These tomes are largely nonsensical to you; The scribblings of madmen, words with no translation and sentences backwards.

You'd once again today attempted to make sense of it all, to tempt your better judgement that kept saying it maybe wasn't your most intelligent idea, but nothing has happened yet. So now you sit in bed, flicking through pages of tomes scattered across the blankets; Attempting to perhaps make enough sense of it and not bring anymore embarrassment to yourself than you already have.

In your fussiness you've already given yourself two different paper cuts, licking your wounds both physical and mental. You should probably be sleeping, the stars are out bright, and the wind gently raps against the windows as you study.

Magnus' tower is so ethereal, you look towards the window for a moment and see nothing but the midnight sky illuminating everything underneath it.

After thinking, you look back towards the oversized tome in your lap, lying on your thighs over top of a blanket. You'd picked many of the books not necessarily at random, but attempting to find the most basic of starting places from a collection that puts most others to shame. Magnus has many shelves up here, filled with his personal collection of tomes and scrolls. You sort've wish he was here to help guide you, but at the same time, you wish to surprise him to some degree.

You try just one more time, attempting to light a small ember in your palm. You follow every word exactly as the instructions- if you could call them that, and mange to hold it for only a few moments before it flickers away as if blown out by breath.

"Ugh!"

You drop your head, it coming quite close to hitting the pages of the tome.

"What is this?"

Your head suddenly whips upright, seeing Magnus himself standing in the doorway across the room. You don't know how you hadn't heard his footsteps, though you suppose you were far too distracted for your ears to prick to any other sound than what was right next to you.

Entering the room and closing the massive door behind him, Magnus takes in the scenery he's missed while aboard Photep, traveling the stars. After his quick glances he focuses on you cross legged in his bed, surrounded by opened and unopened books.

"Magnus!" He slowly walks closer to the beside, one finger brushes a tome he's clearly familiar with and opening it to a particular page; Glossing over it before he lets it gently fall back shut.

"Now, what are you concocting in that little mind of yours that requires so many spell tomes?"

Magnus watches amused as you close the book in your lap, legs cross underneath it and look at your slightly burned palm.

"I was trying to call fire. But it seems it's a bit harder than I thought." His smile fades a bit softer, watching your expression. The fabric of his robes is weaved with gold string that shines in the soft candle light.

"You seem to have had it, from what I saw."

You can feel his long red hair brush against your arm as he sits beside you, his massive height and weight difference forcing the appropriately massive bed to dip heavily to his side. It almost makes you roll, but you quickly adjust to prevent that. Now in your atmosphere it's a bit easier to look him in the eye, but you still have to crane your next a decent bit.

"I was following the tomes exactly like they said, and the best I can do is a little baby kindling. I'd have trouble even setting a letter alight."

You look up towards him, hands playing with the edges and filigree of the old, worn tome in your lap. Magnus speaks up, his tone curious and a bit surprised.

"Exactly?"

His eye glances down to the front cover of the tome in your hand, and recognizes that one instantly. With one hand, he gently reaches underneath the covers and gently clamps the tome shut, the top of his hand laying against your thighs before he pulls the tome towards his chest.

"Then you are taking it all far too literally." Perhaps the book shouldn't be written so literally then, you rebelliously think. He lays the tome aside, and uses the same hand to gently cup your jaw between his fingers and look up at him.

"it's far more of a feeling that anything, my love. If you keep just following the tomes, you might end up burning something down. Or as you've noticed, burning nothing at all." He lets out a laugh, feeling your cheeks move under his finger tips.

"I never thought you to be so studious in following directions. Perhaps you'd prefer Primarch Guilliman to myself?" You let out a harsh puff of air through your closed lips, making an insulting noise. Your hand grips his wrist and tries to pull it away, but to no avail, and instead you just grip the massive muscles of his arm and scowl.

"Funny."

He smiles wider. How you speak to him so casually now, compared to months ago. Perhaps his teasing makes it easier for you to forget who he is. He doesn't mind it.

A testament to your determination, you'd been able to cast something despite a lack of knowledge; But you could do well in having someone set you on the right path. Afterall, Magnus knows simply treating something with such an ebb and flow as sorcery as rules you can memorize will never bear any fruit.

Magnus can guide you, and truthfully, he would love for nothing more than to.

His sons don't need to be taught. They learn from his actions, and most are more than capable of progressing on their own and honing their own skills. To be able to teach his beloved something that is such a core part of himself, to guide your hand and your mind to touch something greater- he finds himself almost, dare he say excited.

He's rough on his sons, he knows they can take it. That they're built for sorceries and touching the warp. But with you he'll have to be gentle. The thought of it, to sit with you and show you wondrous things that your home planet kept from your eyes, he would start right now if not for one thing.

Magnus lets go of your jaw. He leans down and gently brushes a kiss against your temple, his fire red hair brushing against your skin again.

"Now, as much as I don't wish to part you from your reading, I have returned from Terra at my absolute wits end and desiring some rest." He smiles and vaguely gestures to the mess you've made of his bed during his absence. He can see other little messes throughout his chambers, as well.

"So my love, perhaps you could move your research, off the bed?"

[hky101]

Friends to Lovers /// Elias Pettersson

* i do not own the gif above!!

"this shit cost a lot," you were rapping with 21 as you cook in your apartment, enjoying a thursday off until someone rudely interrupted your session.

none other than the amazing, holly horvat.

"hey hey," you answer her facetime call as you see her and gunnar's face on the screen.

"hey you! how's your day off going," she asks and gunnar waves at the camera. you smile and wave back before answering, "cooking, maybe cleaning but i don't know. i'm kind of lazy right now. and then football! how about you?"

"calling to remind you about the party tomorrow! you know the boys will drag you out of bed if you don't come or forget and sleep instead. and you can meet petey since you guys have miraculously haven't met yet."

holly's been bothering you about him and how she wants to set you two up.

"yeah yeah, my so-called twin. just cause we have the same taste in music doesn't mean he is my twin. but okay, will be there! um, any last minute things you need that i can bring," you ask.

"just bring yourself and that's all i need."

"love you! and i think gunnar is getting cranky for food, definitely took on his dad for that. go feed the little beast," you joke.

"you're not wrong about that. see you tomorrow!" you plate your food and take a seat on the coach as the canucks game was in the 3rd period. tie game, you watched anxiously to see who would score and break the tie as the clock ticked down to under 2 minutes.

your phone rang again as you saw natalie miller call.

"drinks on you if my husband scores," she says before you can even say hello.

"same for you but i'm betting on my so-called twin." as you said those words, huggy gave the one-timer pass to petey who ripped it into the back of the net.

"drink on you girl!" you laugh as natalie groans.

"alright, damn it. my husband has failed me once again. okay, hun, see you tomorrow!" you hang up and place your empty dishes in the sink before heading into your room and dropping onto the bed.

Lights out!

Lights on as you check yourself out in the mirror. you wore black leather pants and a tight black top. needless to say, the outfit was hot but the face still had to be worked on.

as you finished up and applied a gloss over your red-painted lips, brock called asking if you wanted to catch the uber with him and his girlfriend since you guys lived in the same building.

"bless your soul, i'll be out in 5," you hang up and quickly throw on your heels, grab your phone and shoes before walking down to meet the couple.

"why do you always wear all black," brock questions.

"oh hey broccoli, i'm doing good thanks," you say while rolling your eyes.

"let's go, uber's here."

"damn, what a hottie!" holly hypes you up as she hugs you.

"says you, gunnar's got a hot mama." she smiled before leading you to her room to leave the keys there safe and sound.

you definitely look hot.

"petey won't be able to take his eyes off you, he's wearing all black too" she smirks

"there's probably more people wearing all black. i have limited colour in my life," you joke

"c'mon, let's go party!" she loops her arm with yours and pulls you back to the party.

after a bunch of mingling and chatting, you and quinn found yourselves partners for beer pong.

"quinner you suck. you went to umich and you suck at beer pong," you shove him.

"hey! don't shove me. so aggressive, and i don't suck." he defends himself.

"huggy bear," you taunt. "new partners," bo yells as you hear jimmy crooks playing.

"gotta throw a party for my day ones," you vibe as you didn't notice petey next to you.

"alright game on!" you turn to see him already looking at you.

"hi," he says.

"you better not suck at this," you reply as he looked surprised for a second before smiling.

"i'm one of the best," he says as he directs his attention to bo throwing.

he was cute, you found him cute in photos but he hit differently in person. the drinks were flowing in you as you were vibing and making shots. your partner was playing well, and you both dominated the match, although you missed the times he would look at you and smile.

after the game, you and petey went to the kitchen to refill drinks. you guys chatted quite a bit, getting comfortable and close. the others were happy to see you together and they knew they were right as soon as they saw both of you vibing out in the kitchen.

"i've been blowin' through the money like it grow on trees. i've been fuckin' on a French bitch, c'est la vie," you rap while dancing toward the girls.

"one more time! hit my line," you smile and hand holly the glass of water she asked for.

"so what do you think," she asks.

"he's cute, and fun to vibe with. he showed me his playlist and i felt like i was looking at my own. he's cool. he asked to hang out and i said yes, so we have a day planned. sunday after the game, cause we're going to be too hungover to hang out tomorrow. the game is an afternoon game so maybe a dinner or something. any other questions about him," you say in one go. you look at the girls who showed so much excitement and high-fived each other as you glance over to see brock shaking him and the boys cheering.

"you're coming to the game. and you're gonna wear his jersey."

you smiled to yourself thinking, how this could become something special.

sunday came around as you head out of your apartment and headed to the arena.

meeting holly, natalie and the kids, you head down with a beer in hand as the kids run to the glass. you smile as they wave at the boys. come coming to wave back and fist bump them. petey and brock came by with bo as they interacted with the kids.

cute.

"who's jersey are you wearing? better be my jersey cuz," brock yells.

"sorry cuz," you turn around to show the '40' on the back. the name was hidden from the hood and your hair but the number said more than enough.

"betrayal! you betrayed me for my best friend! how could you," the drama queen begins.

you made a half a heart and smiled since one hand was available. petey was smiling as he says, "good choice, someone that plays hockey better."

you laugh as brock tackles petey. you felt a tug on your leg as you look down to see one of the kids asking you to pick them up so they could see better.

the poor girl was tired of standing on her tippy toes. you happily pick her up, being careful of the drink and more importantly the little one.

the boys finally let go of each other as they see you point.

"who's that," you ask scottie. she leans towards the glass as you move forward so she can rest her hands there.

"uncle p," she yells and petey smiles as he brought his hand to the glass. the horn blows as the players head back to their rooms and we make our way to the suites.

the game ends with a win as you make your way down with the girls and kids to wait for the boys. elias has texted you to meet him there.

"hey! careful, don't fall!" you yell as scottie takes off. you speed behind her as she ran to the door where the boys were coming out from.

"i wanna see daddy,' she says looking for him.

"sweetheart, he is coming," you say, bent down to her level.

"i see him, daddy!" she runs to him as jt picks her up.

you see elias coming right behind him as his eyes scanned the area until they fell on you. you smile and wave as he smiled back and came to you.

"good game! nice shot," you say as you hug him. he relaxed in your arms as he hugged you back.

"thank you, but my body is so sore. i got bullied this game."

"you did but hey, 3-point night. there's a reason why you get picked on by the physical players," you say looking up at him.

"yeah but i still need to work on a lot of things," he quickly says as you both walk out the building. "did you drive here?"

"nope, i came with holls and the kids," you reply as you stood outside.

"alright, let's go and decide what we wanna do in my car."

"okay let's get food. im starving, what should we get?" petey asked as he started the car.

"um, what does your meal plan look like right now? healthy or junk," you ask knowing athletes have to follow plans.

"fuck it, i don't care right now. let's get pizza, im craving for it. it's been a while," he says.

he drove us to this cute little pizza place as we order to-go. you convinced him to hang out at home since he was sore and tired. we got 2 boxes and headed home.

you were not going to share your pizza which is why he ordered two boxes. he was the same, no one touches his pizza.

soon you both entered your apartment and went straight to the kitchen. you grabbed some plates as petey set down the boxes of pizza before taking his blazer off.

"screw the plates, let's just eat from the box. it's only us two and we're not sharing anyways," petey laughs grabbing his box, opening it and taking a bit of a slice.

"my thoughts exactly but i didn't know if you'd be okay with it. alright, you said you haven't seen the new season of f1 right? we are watching that! i have to see it still myself," you say grabbing your box and leading him to the living room.

he sits down next to you getting comfy as you throw on the fourth season of f1.

"what team are you supporting? this is a very important question that may change our friendship," you say half joking and half serious.

"i like the redbull, not to sound like a rookie fan but i really love how aggressive max is. the way he drives and pushes, it's like he really has no fear and nothing to lose. lewis is a great driver too but team redbull," he finishes.

"our friendship is untouched, i'm on the same page. personally, i find lewis like a pretty boy which he is a good-looking man but yes, max for the win!"

"good to know. but i also like gasly and his story," he added.

"right! it's so emotional and inspirational to what he has been able to achieve after going through so much. roman was just act of god," you say, feeling the same goosebumps and emotions as you rethink that episode.

"oh my god, that was just crazy. i couldn't believe my eyes. we forget sometimes how dangerous the sport can really be. would you ever go to a race," he asks looking at you.

"is that even a question? fuck yeah, it's on my bucket list! it would be so much fun," you say excitedly thinking about what the experience could be like. petey had so much admiration in his eyes as he thought about how he liked you so much already. he liked your smile and excitement over little things and he adores your child-like self when it comes to hot chocolate. he finds it so cute.

although he kept those thoughts to himself and himself only.

over time you and petey were close, not dating yet but basically best friends. you lost hope that he may feel the same as you did but in your mind he did.

reality, he felt the exact same.

december had begun as you were spending your friday night at home, cozy on the couch in a comfy pair of pj's and fuzzy warm socks. holding a warm christmas mug of hot chocolate as you watched beauty and the beast. the snow was falling lightly outside, and your apartment was a little messy from setting up christmas decorations and wrapping some gifts.

it was nearly midnight as you were about 2 thirds through the movie but you were interrupted by your phone ringing. you pause the movie and grab your phone to see quinn calling.

"yes huggy," you answer

"hey! can you, can you, can you- i forgot. damn it. what was i going to say." quinn questions himself and you picked up on the fact he is drunk. probably drunk with the boys and you're getting the pick-up call.

"send me your location, i'm coming to get you." you set your mug down and grab a jacket while staying on the phone with quinn to make sure he doesn't do anything dumb.

or well try to.

"oh yeah! i needed to call my uber, you're my personal uber. the amazing best friend. you know how much i appreciate you? have i ever told you that you're like the sister i never had? and how much i love you and how many times i've given pistol a brotherly lecture because i will fight any boy who breaks your heart," quinn continues to talk.

"love you too quinner. also, i don't see the reason why you are lecturing elias? he has done nothing," you say as you throw on your shoes and lock the apartment. "and roxy right?"

"yeah and i know he hasn't done anything. the boys including me are after him to do something! he's being a bitch."

you faintly hear in the back, "who do you think you're calling a bitch? you're a fucking bear."

"quinn hughes, do not tackle him-," you were too late as you could hear quinn drop the phone and petey yell.

"wait give me the phone, i wanna talk to her. she's mine," elias says in the back away from the phone.

oh god, you thought as your phone connects to the car and you drive off to get these drunk idiots.

"are you still there," you hear elias ask.

"yes elias, i'm here." you turn the heat up higher as you were feeling colder.

"there's my girl. you're my girl, my favourite girl. i love you so much," he drunkenly says. dragging out the 'so'

you were about to say something until petey starts talking again.

"you bear, get off me. let me talk to her, i don't care what you say or whatever best friend, brother, whatever!" you listen to the two argue as you make it to the parking lot.

"carefully come outside, it looks a little icy," you say as you kill the engine and get out in your pj's, shivering as the cold air breezes. "hurry up you drunk idiots!"

soon petey and huggy coming running out the door.

"hey slow down! there's an ice patch right-," you were too late again.

huggy slipped but balanced himself. however, petey slid right into huggy and they both went crashing down.

"ow, you stupid giraffe. why did you take me down," quinn complains.

"shut up, why did you stop right in front of me. you dumb bear," elias fired back.

"shut up and get up. it's cold and i need to check your guys for any injuries," you say and carefully help them up.

huggy was a-okay but elias found himself bleeding on his palm since landed on his hands.

you rush them to the car and take the spare shirt you had in your car and press it to his hand.

"keep the pressure there, i'll take a good look at home." you could tell the fall took a tool on petey and you brought them back to your apartment since it was closest and snow was falling heavier.

"huggy, you know where your stuff is in the spare bedroom. can you give elias his spare clothing as well please," you ask and huggy has left for the guest room.

you sit petey on the couch and bring a first aid kit. you remove the shirt and begin to clean the cut.

"ow, i don't like that. can you make the stinging stop," he asks as you cleaned it up, seeing the cut wasn't deep enough for stitches.

"sorry sorry, but that should be good. if it continues to bleed through the night into the morning then i'll take you to the hospital." he embraces you into a hug unexpectedly and lifts you off the ground.

"elias, put me down," you say, holding him tightly.

"we're going to sleep," he says making his way to your room

"okay, but i can walk elias. put me down."

he dumps you on your bed as you huff. you try to get off to go get him clothes but he sees that and shoves you back on the bed.

"why are you so aggressive," you joke and try again.

although this time you got whacked in the face with a pillow.

you grab a pillow and whack him back as he stumbles. you quickly get up and shove him on the bed.

"stay here, i'll go get you clothes. i'm pretty sure quinn changed and went to sleep. as always," you say and walk out of the room. quietly going into the spare room, you were right. it took everything in you to not laugh when you saw the way he was passed out on the bed. you grab some of elias's spare clothes and head back to find him staring at the back of his phone with a smile.

you throw the clothes at his face as he drops his phone.

"not nice love," he says as he goes to change. you pick his phone up off the floor and see a small polaroid of you two in the clear case.

a photo of you both leaning into each other while laughing and holding cups of hot chocolate. you smile remembering this moment and brock who took the photo. you didn't even notice petey came back until he was looking over your shoulder.

"that is one of my favourite photos of us," he says. you look over your shoulder to see him smiling at you and you return it.

"one of my favourites as well. and one of us baking cookies! that timer one with our cookies and mess of us trying to decorate a gingerbread man. that was fun," you say as you noticed him staring at you in a way that was making you feel butterflies.

his hand made its way to you face, moving a strand back before it rested on your cheek. he leant in as your heart began to race.

he's drunk, you remind yourself.

"elias, you're drunk." you placed a hand on his chest. you saw the hurt in his eyes as he backed away.

"i'm sober now," he responds, his hand dropping from your cheek to hold your hand.

"elias, get some sleep. we can talk in the morning," you say, squeezing his hand.

you knew he wasn't happy and he was hurt. as much as he nodded and let go of your hand trying to hide it. you saw right through.

he was heading out the door before you stopped him, "where are you going?"

"to sleep on the couch," he responded.

"elias no, you can sleep on my bed. you'll wake up with your back and neck hurting if you sleep on the couch," you say.

"you're not sleeping on the couch either." you both stared at each other for a moment. there was tension in the room before you hear elias mumble, "fuck it."

you looked at him confused as he pulled you to the bed and made you lay in it before he got it.

"are you sure-," you got cut off as always

"shut up and go to sleep." he turned away from you.

"you like cutting me off huh," you quietly say, not expecting him to hear you.

"always. now sleep."

the next morning was tense. you were making breakfast as elias sat on the kitchen stool, not helping you for once. it was quiet, all you could hear was the sizzling from your cooking and elias setting his glass of water down.

until a very cranky and grumpy quinn came down.

"morning grumpy," you say as you hear elias cover his laugh with a cough. of course, he understood your reference to the dwarf from snow white.

it took quinn a minute before he glared and mumbled a small, "fuck you."

you give him a glass of water and some advil for his headache as he takes it. you made some light breakfast and served it to the two hungover boys knowing their stomachs can't handle heavy food at the moment.

"what did you do to your hand," quinn asks as you look at elias's hand. "oh never mind, that's karma for taking me down."

"i have too much of a headache right now to deal with your dumb things," elias responds. he was more so finishing his food as quinn ate most but couldn't finish cause of how his stomach was.

"don't force yourself to eat it all now, you can have it later too. go get some more sleep," you say ruffling his hair. he smacks your hand away before heading back to his claimed room.

"same for you," you softly say to elias as you pick up quinn's dishes. "and is your hand still bleeding?"

"i haven't looked yet," he says monotone.

you place the empty dishes in the sink and cover the remaining food before keeping it aside. you head over to him and ask, "may i take a look?"

he hesitantly gives you his hand. you carefully take off the medical tape and gauze to see the cut is no longer bleeding and healing.

"okay, looks like it's healing really well. i'm going to clean some of the dried blood and reapply some medicine before wrapping it up again." you grab your first aid and do exactly as you said.

elias watched you, and you felt his gaze. the tension was so thick, and you wanted to hurry up and move away from how close you both were.

you finished wrapping his hand and say, "let me know if it starts to bleed at any point. we'll go to the hospital cause i don't trust myself that i'll know what to do if it does."

you backed away and put the kit away. as you were about to exit the kitchen, elias softly spoke, "i trust you."

you turned around to see him already looking at you.

"i know you do," you say with a smile.

a smile that didn't reach your eyes. and he saw right through it.

you both knew last night's moment is affecting you both. although none of you want to break the tension.

you went back to your room to shower and get ready for the day to do nothing.

as you exited the bathroom, as you saw elias sitting on your bed on his phone. he looked up to see you as you turned away to unwrap the towel and let your wet hair down.

you began to dry your hair with the towel as elias walked up to you. he grabbed the towel and began helping you, like he would do when you washed your hair. you closed your eyes, taking in the familiar feeling.

"you know, i wasn't drunk at the end of last night right?" you opened your eyes to see him put down the towel.

"i really loved that photo of us, but i also really love the one that is my phone background." he shows you his lock screen, a photo of him hugging you from behind as he has the biggest smile on his face while you were laughing.

"i also love this photo that you see in the back of my phone case. and this polaroid of us," he continues as he pulls out a polaroid from his wallet.

the polaroid of you hugging him while wearing his jersey as the lifted you off the floor after a big win.

"i also really love the person i'm with in these photos. do you know her?" you couldn't get any words out of your mouth.

"she's the most caring person, she's a child at heart which is something i find adorable. she's got a heart of gold, and she makes me happy. i love her smile, it makes me smile and happy to see her happy. her bad days become my bad days but she will make my days better. always. i love her hugs, one of the many things that i love to get. she's one of the most supportive supports i have. she'll review clips with me and she's a great passer for me to practice my one-timers. she's educated me to know all Disney movies and i love how she doesn't care about what others have to say. she's a hot chocolate addict, but she finds comfort in that drink. she appreciates little things, but she isn't into expensive stuff. she's always there when you need her, she always picks me up when im drunk. takes care of me and quinn especially. also, did i mention how good she is at cooking and baking? i love the fight she puts up, even though i'll never let her pay for anything while she's with me and always surprise her. she's one independent woman, i can say that. and i'm very proud of her and i'm thankful to have her in my life. and i could go on and on about her, but i think you get the idea." he finishes.

you stood there, staring at him feeling touched. no one has ever made you feel the way you felt right now. you've never heard anyone say or know so much about you as the man in front of you did.

okay well, maybe quinn who took on being the brother you never had but still.

elias walked up to you, his hands holding yours. "i mean every single word i said."

his hands made it up to your cheeks, as he softly spoke again, "you have a hold on my heart. i really do like you. actually, fuck that, i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you and i fall harder every day."

he leant in as you did as well. his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. he pulled away, you smiled as he did too before kissing you harder.

you pulled away, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"i love you too petey." he had the biggest smile as he wrapped his arms around you before lifting you in the air and spinning you around.

he set you back down before kissing you again. you were having your moment until you heard, "hey! where did my food go? i want my food, i am a hungry hungover child!"

[pinky-mouse]

The Sorrow of The Blue

Note: I don’t know what compelled me to write this crossover, but I did. I’m also not too great at writing fanfics either. That being said, enjoy, I guess. lol.

GIF by pieropann

You were not supposed to be here. Most likely.

It’s strange, you had previously said that every gem that had visited this planet had turned traitor. And look at you now, enjoying the very earth that you had so callously declared to despise many millennia ago.

Were you a traitor then?

Perhaps.

You sat quietly on the steps of a worn staircase, your cloak’s hood covering you as a veil. You had come alone, you wanted to be, needed to be.

Yellow thought you were hysterical too often. You were a Diamond, not some puny, overly emotional lower life form. You were supposed to act according to your expectations - the very expectations set by the controlling White.

You sighed, your hands folded neatly on your lap. A thick tear dribbled down your cheek, but you didn’t bother to wipe it away. There was no point. More would follow shortly afterward anyway.

“Oh my,” You heard a voice say. It was a male. A male human. You kept your gaze ahead, looking at the flowers growing through the mulch in the garden. They were so organized, not a petal out of place.

Unlike your life.

The thought made a few more hot, salty tears of anguish spill down your cheeks. You let them flow. You were used to crying, though the feeling was never therapeutic. Crying was supposed to make you feel better, yet all it had done for you was make you feel so much worse. You felt weak and helpless.

“Miss, are you alright?” The voice asked again. You turned your head, a look of surprise on your flushed and watery features. It was an older human male.

“Ye—yes, I’m quite alright.” You responded, wiping your eyes as you fruitlessly attempted to collect your bearings. “I was just…lost in thought.”

You look ahead at the garden again. It’s so beautiful and serene, especially considering that it’s coming from the hands and care of a human.

“Your garden is lovely,” You swallow the lump lodged in your throat. It hurts, but you push the feeling away. “I did not think that a human would be capable of creating such beauty, but it seems I was wrong.”

“Why, thank you, Miss?” The old man says expectantly, but you’re back deep in your own swirling thoughts of grief, longing, and blame to notice. Your head hurts, like someone is rapping their hand against it as if it’s a door that needs to be opened.

He takes a quick glance at you and noticed your unnatural skin color, but makes no mention of it. Rather, he opts to sit next to your tall form as you remain seated silently on those steps.

You’re trespassing on private property, but he knows better than to openly acknowledge that. He has no clue if you know that fact or if you’re a threat. He’s playing with fire just by getting close to you like this, but somewhere in his heart he can tell you need something to bring you back to the present.

“Something on your mind?”

“Yes.” You answer faintly, your head bowing a little further as your hood covers more of your face. “I just miss what life used to be like, long ago. I could smile more. I was happy. But now, I am not. And I—”

“—Wish you could go back?” He asks. “Me too, sometimes. But unfortunately, we cannot turn back time.”

“You ‘too’?” You echo, your head lifting as you look at him in mild surprise; another tear rolls down your cheek and lingers at the end of your chin. “You know how I feel?”

“Of course,” He nods solemnly. “There are days I wish I could go back and change the past. Some nights I think to myself what could’ve been had I done something differently.”

“I’m surprised a human being is capable of understanding how I feel.” Your quiet voice murmurs. He doesn’t acknowledge the way you worded that. “What have you lost?”

“I’ve lost many people in my life. Some gone too soon, and others not. The pain doesn’t get any better, but I have learned to keep looking ahead. I can’t take care of the people in my life now if I spend my days dwelling on the past.”

“That’s very intelligent of you to say.” The words aren’t necessarily groundbreaking, but they are reminding. Reminding you that you need to learn to push forward, that there’s nothing more you can do. And it is what it is.

You feel somewhat better, for the first time in hundreds of years.

You pause, a tired, melancholic smile etching itself on your face as you lean in and look at him. You lift your hood enough so that your face is no longer covered. “You know, I really shouldn’t be here.”

“I am aware.” The older man comments offhandedly. Just as he ignored you calling him out as a “human,” you pretend not to hear that little remark of his.

“But, I’m glad I came here.” You continue. “You remind me so much of the others. I wish you could meet them.”

Just as you say that, you have an idea. Standing to your full height, you reach a hand down and pick him up, cradling the man to your shoulder. You pay no attention to his stunned gasp as you begin to walk to your destination.

Oh, the others will be so happy knowing you’ve made a new friend.

Hours pass, and the sun begins to set. The pink, purple, and orange colors paint across the sky as if it were a canvas, and the moon’s glow begins to shine faintly through the passing clouds.

A young man, with black hair and a tuft of white at the front looks at the others behind him, his eyebrow raised in confusion and his blue eyes squinting in disbelief.

“Where the hell’s Alfred?”

[haziel-luz]

His Priority {Donnie x Reader}

Alright people, I'm back with some more tea! Let's get straight to it. I hope you like it.

Chapter 5: The Bar Under the City

The air wasn't your favorite when you walked around the city. You're only lucky to be surrounded by food. That’s where you are, surrounded by food in an unknown society that Raph dragged you and Casey into. Mutants and few humans walking around without a care in the world. How this was under your nose this entire time was a total mystery to you. Yet Raph walked as if he had known this place for a while.

“What is this place?” Casey asks in disbelief, he doesn’t know what to concentrate on, the way humans are coexisting with mutants, or the fact that there were even more mutants. You were just as astonished and confused as Casey.

“Welcome to the Mutant City, a place for mutants and humans.” Raph gestures to a whole new world while we follow behind him. “Even if there are more mutants than humans here.”

Just last week you were in a heated argument with April, and now you get whiplashed by the amount of new information that none of the turtles even mentioned. You wouldn’t be surprised if April knew, of course.

“Since when? I’ve never heard of this.” You finally asked after gazing at the unfamiliar environment.

“Remember a few years back when we mentioned how we found other mutants like us?” Raph turns back around to you both.

“Yeah, and some of them thought that humans were enemies, but how did this happen?” Casey frowns, still not understanding how this place came to be.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. Come on,” Raph gestures for us to keep walking. We continue following him while he explains. “To keep the story short, their beef with each other was getting serious, and I’m not just talking about the conflict between the humans and mutants. Some mutants have a hatred for humans, others strongly want to defend them.” 

“All that, and years later you guys just kept this to yourselves?” Casey raises an eyebrow. He’s not wrong, so much has happened without us noticing. Knowing us, we would probably try to get involved, and if you’re honest with yourself, it hurts that they didn’t rely on either one of you.

“Yeah, it’s not one of our best adventure stories, but this place turned out better than it did years ago.” Raph took a look around and genuinely smiled at the change and clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s enough history, how about that bar?” He begins to walk along without an answer, and we continue to follow.

The bar wasn’t that far, coming into the city, everything was pretty much within reach. You even passed a small pizza place nearby, this place amazes you. You enter the bar and Raph greets some mutants, his friendly behavior surprises you. This city might’ve made him completely soft, and the residents here solidified that. You and Casey stand next to each other while Raph openly greets everyone.

“To think that out of the four of them, he would be the popular one.” Casey huffs in disbelief at the scene in front of him and you chuckle at his jab.

“These two are the ones that I’ve been talking about.” Raph comes behind you both to put his hands on your and Casey’s shoulder as he does the introduction. Everyone greets the both of you and you happily return the greeting along with Casey. After you learn some names and realize they know yours, the interaction flows quite smoothly. No awkward small talk, just a respectful ‘hello’ and a couple of handshakes.

Once they know you, they go back to their own thing. Raph leads the both of you to the bar counter and he orders the three of you some drinks. You sit down on the stool and admire the design of the bar. It’s not the fanciest thing on earth but it had its charm. You wondered if the guys visited the city to help around every once in a while.

“Is that Angry Bird and Michael Myers?” A familiar voice pointed out your boys, and you're so happy to hear their voice.

“Hey, it’s my day off, don’t make me come after you.” Raph scoffs lightly and picks up his drink.

“It’s good to see you again man!” Casey gives him a pat on the back. You use this moment to peek your head behind Raph’s shell, and there he is. Michelangelo, the sweetest and funniest brother you ever met. You made eye contact with him, he gasped and his eyes widened. He almost shoved Raph out of the way to hug you tight.

“There’s my little peach! It’s been too long!” Mikey was filled with joy at the sight of you, and you laughed at his outburst. You missed him so much.

“Way too long! I’ve been meaning to contact you, but I was kind of struggling with- you know…” Your excitement was slowly fading but Mikey pulled away with a genuine smile. 

“Don’t beat yourself up, we’re here now.” He rubbed your arms in a calming way as if he knew your nerves were creeping up on you. Mikey might be known as someone who couldn’t take things seriously before, but now he’s a natural at reading others.

“Got your round of shots right here Raph.” The bartender lined up the shot glasses and poured each of them with precision. This mutant bartender looks kinda cute with his clean uniform, and his rolled-up sleeves that show how firm his arms look. You felt a poke on your cheek, and you turned to see Mikey grinning at you. Your face flushed knowing you got caught.

“Thanks, man, he’s paying.” Raph pats Casey’s back with a smirk.

“Shit, I was this close..” Casey grumbles and gives the bartender some cash.

“I bet he can get you close,” Mikey whispers, bouncing his non-existent eyebrows.

“Mikey, no!” You whisper back and nudge his shoulder with yours, you can’t contain your giggle. Everyone grabs their shot glass and raises it.

“Alright, let’s each say a short sweet toast.” Mikey suggests, “Raph first.” He called out quickly, making you chuckle. Casey agrees and encourages Raph.

“Here’s to our first underground bar, a bar where disguises and risks of being exposed aren’t needed.” Raph toasts with an eye roll.

“Aw, how sweet of you.” Casey leans his arm on Raph’s shoulder. Raph shrugs his arm off with a scoff.

“Now me. Here’s to a nice night of fun and luck, and I don’t need to explain the luck part.” Mikey gives a charming smile to a group of ladies across the room.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you’re…active?” You try to use a word that wouldn’t feel weird, but turns out it doesn’t matter what you call it as long as you know the meaning.

“Just for that, I’m counting it as your toast. Casey?” Raph wants to change the subject before Mikey even starts that topic. You just had to laugh at how uncomfortable he got when you mentioned it.

“Uh, ok, here’s to a new night for the new singles,” Casey reaches his shot to your glass, “and with this fresh start we can enjoy this amazing night.”

You're smiling, grateful for his toast, and everyone clinks their glasses together. With a swig of that shot, you realize just how long it’s been since you had hard liquor. Yet you stayed strong despite the burning taste, you can’t let them know how soft you’ve gotten.

There was an area of the bar you hadn’t noticed yet, and it was a dancefloor, filled with music. A specific music came on and Mikey’s eyes lit up. He turns to you and gives you puppy eyes.

“Will you dance with me for a bit?” Mikey pleads in his voice while holding your hand.

“You mean, be your wingman?” You smirk when you notice how there are more women on the dance floor.

“Why not have both? Come on.” Mikey pulls you to stand up and observes your coat. “Hiding something under there?”

“Oh right, where do I put this coat?” You took it off and immediately you felt more eyes stare at you, Mikey’s mouth was open in shock.

“Okay, everyone is fired as my wingman! I’m calling you from now on. Where the hell have you been hiding this ?” Mikey raises your arm and slowly spins you around, even though his praise is platonic, it still makes you blush.

“Don’t make me spray you with a hose.” Raph pulled your arm away from him and turned to the bartender. “You have one, right Liam?” He asks to make sure he can make good on his threat.

“If you want I’ll even do it for you.” The bartender, Liam, suggests with a mischievous smile. You wish you could say how that smile didn’t affect you.

You laugh lightly and pat Raph's arm, “In Mikey’s defense, I’m usually in comfortable clothing. This is a special night, so hold this for me.” You hand Raph your coat and link your arm with Mikey’s.

“Atta girl!” Mikey laughs and leads you to the dance floor. The shot is starting to work its magic, so goodbye common sense.

---------------------------

The night is fantastic, and very well deserved. The dance with Mikey won him some women who were either mutants or humans. Mikey didn’t need much help from a wingman, if anything he was a natural. 

You ended up drinking with Raph and Casey as well, you even tried to have Raph dance with you. His dance moves make you laugh because you know how awkward he can be, yet it’s still sweet how he tries. Casey joins in to help Raph not feel so pressured, also giving him a drink to have an excuse not to move much on the dance floor.

The boots you're wearing have been hurting a little, but overall you feel tired from so much movement, so you sit at the bar. You watch them have fun from a distance with a soft smile.

Your mind slowly drifted off to what happened earlier today before you went out with the boys.

Looking through your closet, you found a fine short dress that was meant for your anniversary with Donnie. You might as well use it for this occasion, this dress can’t go to waste. As you hold the dress proudly against you in front of the mirror. A notification from your phone chimed, and you picked it up confused. 

Who else is going to text you other than Raph this late at night? Mikey maybe? You thought to yourself as you unlocked your phone. You instantly regret not reading the notification on your lock screen first, because it turned out to be your ex.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, you didn’t want your thoughts going through chaos.

‘Can we talk? Whenever the day and time suits you best.’

A talk or an apology? Last time his apology was genuine but it wasn’t enough to fix his problem. Did he find out what he needed to do or how to manage it? Hell, even you didn’t know how to analyze his little obsession with April. Friendship or not, it wasn’t healthy for them, and especially for you or Casey.

You clicked your phone back off, you were not ready to answer him even through text. Coming back to organize your thoughts, you need to do this logically. Even if a really small part of you wanted to talk to him and see where the conversation takes off. Your whole being needed to go out tonight and have fun. April was enough drama last week.

“Need some extra fuel to keep up with them?” Liam stands in front of you, cleaning an empty glass. You turn your attention to him, suddenly aware that you’re not alone.

“Against two ninjas and a cop? It wasn’t a fair fight to begin with.” You playfully huffed and propped your cheek on your palm. Liam chuckles while putting the glass away.

“You got a point. Need some water instead?” He pulls out a glass and places it in front of you.

“Do you come with it?” You respond before you can even think. He stays quiet for a bit, and you're confused until you replay your words in your mind again. “Wait-I didn’t mean that! Not like that.” You cover your face, cringing at yourself. What the hell!

“Don’t worry about it.” Liam laughs as he pours you some water. “The offer was tempting, if it wasn’t for the liquor I would've let it happen.” He gives a small smirk when he slides the water to you. You bit your bottom lip gently at his honesty.

“If I drink this, would it be enough for something smaller than that ?” You have no idea where this confidence came from.

“ Oh ? So how small are we talking?” Liam leans forward with his arms on the bar counter. The liquor running through your veins right now is telling you to kiss him. Thanks to the thrill of your surroundings, you’ve noticed the tension you’ve been holding on to for a while now. The type of tension that could only be loosened by someone willing to wreck you under the sheets. Yet, a part of you isn’t willing to give in to someone you just met.

You don’t answer, but only maintain eye contact while you start to drink your water in three gulps. Liam’s eyes widen a bit, suddenly feeling flustered from your wordless response. Putting the empty glass down in front of him, your lips give a cheeky grin. “How about a dance first?”

He bursts into laughter and hangs his head down while his shoulders shake. His contagious laughter has you joining him within seconds. It’s pretty rare for you to make a cute stranger laugh. This is the first time you flirted this playfully, it’s different from what you were used to. With Donnie, it was just cute at first, but it went stale ever since his April “thing” came back.

“That I can do, my shift ended anyway. I’ll be right back.” Liam placed the towel away and disappeared through a door behind the bar. As you wait for him, you take another look around the place with a relaxed smile on your face. The boys were enjoying their night, and it was a nice sight. The goal tonight was to give yourself peace, and that was a success.

“Ready for that dance?” You didn’t realize Liam was already beside you with his hand out. You smile and place your hand on his. As he leads you to the dance floor, you notice Mikey looking amused with non-existent arched eyebrows. The speakers played a slow passionate song, right on cue.

Everyone on the dance floor either left or found someone to dance with. Liam respectfully placed his hand on your back, while his other held yours close to his chest. His movement was translating the music, increasing the closeness between you. Giving in to your instinct, you rest your head on his chest, firm and comfortable.

“Thank you, I honestly didn’t think I was gonna get through the night.” You were the first to break the pleasant silence.

“Had a rough day?” His chest rumbled against you as he spoke, it was soothing.

“A couple of weeks.” You spoke gently, enjoying the company you had with you.

“May I ask how someone as delightful as you, would be suffering?” He gently rubs your back and his comfort reassures you that you can trust him.

“I broke up with my boyfri- ex-boyfriend. I came to realize that he had someone more important than me in his life. He didn’t cheat, but I knew that deep down, he wanted to know ‘what could’ve been’.” Explaining this to Liam didn’t make your stomach turn. The reason behind the breakup did hurt, but it’s numb now. Dancing with Liam didn’t make you uncomfortable. Letting another man hold you close is proof that you can move on, or at least capable of doing so.

----------------------------

“Aww, look at her go.” Mikey stood next to Raph and Casey in awe. He hasn’t seen you look so peaceful, slow dancing, and graceful too. You weren’t one for dancing in general, but after letting yourself give in to tonight's new experience, it seemed natural.

“Guess it was a good thing I forced her out tonight.” Raph gently smiled at the scene before him. Sure, it was weird seeing you dancing with someone else other than his nerdy brother. He remembered a time when you would bother him for dancing lessons, just so you wouldn’t step on Donnie’s feet on your first dance. Looks like time does continue even for people with a broken heart.

“Remember how shy she used to be?” Casey observes you with a small smile. You weren’t the life of the party until tonight. Took you long enough. He’s proud to see you out in the open for once. However…Casey does miss your shyness and the way you used to cling to him or Raph when there was a huge crowd. It was cute. Then again, he’s happy to see you socially grow on your own.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly how she got the nickname ‘bug’. Always hid behind me and capable of being annoying despite how small she seemed to everyone else.” Raph gently laughed at the memory, how angry you got when he called you ‘bug’ the first time.

“Hey guys, I know I drank more than I should and cut me off if I’m tripping. Lookey over there.” Mikey pointed to the entrance of the bar, and both of them turned their heads.

“Please tell me that’s your cousin.” Casey instantly responded, putting his drink down.

“Shit.” Raph grumbles and clenches his jaw for what he’s about to witness.

----------------------------

Liam gives you a small spin and pulls you close, making you smile at his gentleness.

“You know it’s not every day I meet someone new and be comfortable with it.” You say as you move your head up and see his charming smile.

“Then I’m honored to be the first one you're willing to be yourself around.” He moves his hand to caress your cheek, and you lean into his hand. He eyed your lips for a few seconds, debating whether to kiss you or not. After flirting and dancing for a while, he remains respectful.

You can blame it on the alcohol later, so you move in, deciding for him. Before your lips connect, an aggressive force moves Liam away from you in the blink of an eye. A loud thud stops the music, and you see him on the floor with arms up as if he blocked an attack. It happened so fast.

“What the hell was that ?” Behind you is a voice you know so well, and he was furious to the core. A shiver made its way down your spine at how low and menacing his voice sounded. You slowly turned around and met face-to-face with Donatello. He does look different…

“Don!” You heard Leo’s voice coming through the entrance. The leader sounds frustrated at Donnie after watching him brutally attack someone so suddenly.

“You better take a step back,” Raph warned him, he was quick to move you behind him. You glance behind you to see Mikey and Casey helping Liam stand steady. Of all the moments to run into your ex, it had to be like this.

You felt a little shaken and very confused. What was he doing here? How did he know where you were? Was he always capable of being this angry?

“I asked a question.” Donnie ignored Raph and kept his eye on you. This was so out of character for him and it worried you.

“She doesn’t owe you an answer.” Raph blocked you from his view and turned to Leo. “You had one job, fearless.”

“In my defense, it was going well. Come on Donnie, let’s not make this difficult.” Leo reached for his arm, but Donnie was quick to snatch it away.

“So this is how it’s going to be? Just avoid each other every day so she can do whatever she wants?” Donnie held his ground, and that hit a nerve.

“At least I can now without all the extra bullshit.” You finally processed the position you're in, and no, you didn’t deserve that slap-in-the-face comment.

“Extra bullshit? I’ve been trying to understand why this happened in the first place while this asshole is all over you.” Donnie was seeing red, his posture was so tense that it made Raph more irritated.

“Alright, maybe you both need a conversation to finally clean up this mess, but that’s not gonna be today.” Raph surprisingly has a calm voice, but you know it’s his last string of patience. He continues, “Let’s call it a night and-”

“Donnie, why did you suddenly leave like that?” April appeared through the entrance and instantly stopped herself to look at the scene. Her eyes landed on Casey and flinched as a reaction. You looked back to see how Casey's eyes reflected anger.

“I think she got it down to a T. How the hell does April know about this place and we’re the last to know? This whole thing was bullshit from the beginning, and neither of you had any respect for us whatsoever.” Casey raised his voice and stood beside you, supporting your claims.

“Casey, it’s not what you think. This place used to be dangerous-” April wanted to explain herself, but Casey wasn’t having any of it.

“And that makes you Superman, right? Risking your own life at every turn just because you can by trusting him, but you don’t trust me enough to protect you. Now that’s some extra bullshit.” He spit out his truth and you so badly wanted to applaud.

“Don’t be mad at her just because-” Donnie glared at Casey and not even the genius was capable of stopping this ‘bonehead’.

“Fuck you! What were you two doing together anyway? Isn’t that how you ended up alone to begin with?” Casey was livid, and he was ready to go toe to toe with Donnie but you held him back.

“Casey, let’s get out of here. It’s not worth it.” You calmly told him as you stood in front of him to make sure he wouldn’t make a move. He took a moment to look at you and saw how your anger was fading into tears, your hand on his chest trembled a bit. The one thing that Donnie wasn’t able to witness, was your strength fading away. Casey knows how angry you can be, but he also knows how certain situations can overwhelm you, but only if it hits you to the core. 

Obviously, with April here, it just confirms that there’s more to their close friendship. Neither of them brought you to this new society between humans and mutants. It never occurred to them to even talk about what was going on.

Casey takes a deep breath in and out while rubbing his face, “Fine. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

You were relieved and went to get your coat and on your way back you faced Liam with an apology. He responded with a sheepish smile and rubbed your arm for reassurance that it was alright. You hugged Mikey, promising him that you would definitely keep in touch with him.

“We’re ready to go Raph.” You told him, completely ignoring your ex. Raph looks around and notices a crowd forming because of the scene.

“Alright, nothing to see here everyone, move it along.” Raph dismissed everyone with a glare, and most of them went back to minding their own business. He turns back to Donnie and points to the entrance of the bar. “So, are we leaving here in peace or you wanna make this difficult?”

Donnie takes one last glance at you, even if you were actively ignoring him. It hurt him even more now that he witnessed how unattached you are to him. Dancing with another man you barely knew, and going as far as trying to kiss him. He wants to blame the alcohol, or maybe that asshole, but if it wasn’t for tonight, he wouldn’t have realized how broken this relationship was. 

At first, he believed it was jealousy, or maybe you felt insecure knowing how he used to feel for April, which could explain your lack of trust. No. This was something more, and he was desperate to understand why.

With a defeated sigh, Donnie turns around and makes his way out of the bar, shrugging off Leo’s sympathetic hand from his shoulder. Leo rolled his eyes and followed close behind while waving April to go along with them. Raph turns his head to look at you over his shoulder.

“I mean what I said about the talk,” Raph’s suggestion makes you frown a bit, “and I know you don’t want to, but if you want to move on, tell him. If not, then try figuring it out with him. I’m not just saying this for him, but for you too bug.” You would give his words some thought, but you only nodded in response.

You and Casey followed Raph, while Mikey stayed behind to make sure Liam was okay. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for putting him in that position, even if you didn’t know how Donatello would react like this. Hell, you didn’t predict that you would see him this abruptly. It was a surprise that you would trust a stranger you just met. Liam was a gentleman, he made you feel seen and heard, and it felt nice.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the material of your dress. This damn dress was just a reminder of what could’ve been if Donnie had just…just what? Stopped his unnecessary lies? Confided in you more? Be in the present with you and only you? No…you just wanted him to stop himself from figuring out that he never wanted you. He wanted April.

Love is funny and unpleasant that way. No matter how much you wanted to be angry or avoid him…deep down you wanted Liam to be Donnie on that dancefloor. The way he held you close, how he calmed you from your worries and sadness. Liam reminded you of him, and it hurts realizing that now.

Why should you still love him?

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Next => Chapter 6: ??? (Coming Soon)

Previous <= Chapter 4: Let Him Go

Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I had to rewrite and rearrange some of the things I previously wrote because it just didn't feel good enough.

Also, I passed my exam with flying colors! In all honestly, the beginning of this week was me catching up on sleep. I didn't know my brain needed that much rest.

🥰 Thank you for supporting my writing and I'm sorry for the long wait, I appreciate all of you.