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carolmunson · 1 year ago

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you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down.

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery.

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.”

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later.

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head.

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere.

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.”

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?”

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?”

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.”

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?”

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?”

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow.

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on.

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you.

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch.

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before.

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears.

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough.

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.”

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.”

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.”

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.”

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly.

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.”

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death.

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.”

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily.

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.”

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.”

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.”

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper.

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge.

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.”

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.”

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat.

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.”

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes.

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story.

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you.

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…”

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #kas!eddie #kas!eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson #vampire!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #tw: dubcon #tw: dub-con #dark!eddie #dark!eddie munson

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tinylilacbun · 3 months ago

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Do you think you could write a fanfic about rafe coming home after a really hard day in particular of dealing and they didn’t get as many sales as usual and Berry and rafe were pissed off at each other so instead of coming home and being all sweet and clingy to age regression reader he yell’s at her for accidentally getting paint on the table well painting him a picture and he yells and screams at her and she runs and goes and hides, and he ends up finding her in the back of the closet and pulls her out and apologizes then he comfort her after yelling saying how he never meant to scare her:3🦈🎀

Painting and Yelling

Pairing: daddy!rafe x little!reader

Warnings: age regression, yelling, mentions of drugs/dealing, hurt/comfort, some cursing

Today has been exhausting for Rafe, not only didn't he make the promised sales but also came into a conflict with Barry because of it and now they're not talking with each other.

When Rafe called you to tell you that he's on his way back home you could hear that he's upset and exhausted, so the second he hung up you quickly gathered art supplies to draw him a picture to cheer him up.

Since you want this one to be special you decide on painting with acrylic paints instead of crayons. You are so focused on drawing the picture, using all the tips you can remember from those videos you watch on YouTube sometimes that you don't notice the paint you accidentally get on the table and the sleeves of your hoodie.

The sound of the front door opening and closing, indicating Rafe's arrival has you squirming on the chair with anticipation of his reaction to your picture that you have put a lot of effort in.

Rafe enters the living room, rubbing the back of his neck as he makes his way over to you. "Hey..."

"Hi daddy! Look what I made for you!" You smile at him, holding up the picture for him to see.

He doesn't look directly at what you were holding up but more at the mess you made on the table and yourself. "What is this?"

"A picture..." You frown at him, isn't it obvious? It's not the first time you gave him a drawing, so his reaction confuses you.

He breathes through his nose, pinching the bridge of it with his fingers. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the damn mess you made."

As you finally look at the table and take notice of the paint stains on it and on your sleeves. You start to try and explain yourself. "I just-"

"God I- I had a long fucking day and the last thing I wanted was to take care of shit like that. Can't you just once- just once, use the few brain cells you possess or is that too damn hard!" He suddenly interrupts you, his voice rising.

Before his brain can comprehend what he just did, seeing the way your eyes widen and fill with tears, your bottom lip quivering, he opens his mouth to apologize but you quickly get up and bolt out of the room and upstairs.

"Wait- baby!" He calls after you, his head dropping as he hears a door slam shut.

He runs a hand through his hair, cursing at himself for shouting at you when he promised himself that he would never let that happen and still couldn't keep his temper in check yet again.

Glancing at the picture on the table he felt even worse. He grabs it, a small smile on his face at the different shapes and messily drawn 'daddy' in the center of it.

Meanwhile you are hiding in his closet, picking at your lambs fur with tears rolling down your face constantly, trying not to sob out loud. His words hurt you deeply, even more so that it was directed at your little self.

You hear footsteps approaching the bedroom and push yourself more into the corner of the closet, pulling your knees to your chest as the bedroom door opens.

"Baby?" Rafe calls out again softly, not surprised he doesn't receive an answer but notices his closet door slightly ajar and walks over to open it.

He sees your sock-clad feet beneath his hanging clothes and crouches down, his heart breaks at the sight of you, your cheeks wet and avoiding to look at him.

"I know you probably don't want to have anything to do with me right now but...I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have yelled at you and said those things. I'm sure you don't believe me but I didn't mean anything I said... you're- you're the smartest little someone could wish for and I'm so thankful for being allowed to even see this side of you." He starts reaching out to rest his hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing over your skin.

He waits a moment to see if you will reject his touch, when you don't he takes that as a sign to continue. "I really like the drawing you made..."

You lift your head when you hear the rustling of paper, seeing him admire the picture with a smile.

"It definitely deserves a special place on the wall." He says, straightening himself and walks over to the cork board that already has a few of your pictures pinned on it.

You slowly crawl halfway out the closet to watch him hang it up. He steps back to look at it again, a hand on his chin as in deep thought. "I think that's the best one you made so far."

"Really...?" You sniffle.

"Really." He confirms, stepping closer to you and holding his hand out. You hesitate for a moment before placing your hand in his, letting him help you up. He instantly pulls you into his arms, holding you in a tight embrace and kisses the top of your head. "I'm really sorry...I didn't mean to scare you or anything. Think you can forgive me?"

You think for a second, pulling your face from his chest. "Can I has ice cream?"

He chuckles, relieved that you seem to accept his apology. "Of course, baby. You can even eat on my bed and watch a movie, sounds good?"

"Two scoops and sprinkles." You look at him seriously and he sighs, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Fine, but only if I get a kiss." He smiles at the way you quickly stand on your tiptoes to peck his lips. "Another?"

"Daddy."

"Okay, shouldn't push my luck, I get it."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

#little!reader #little reader #daddy!rafe cameron x little!reader #daddy!rafe x little!reader #daddy!rafe cameron #daddy!rafe #daddy rafe cameron x little reader #daddy rafe x little reader #daddy rafe cameron #daddy rafe #cg!rafe #cg!rafe cameron #age regression

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gabessquishytum · 26 days ago

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Robin has only ever known his papa, Hob. He knows he has a father out there somewhere. His papa talks about his father as if he is a superhero. Some of the things hob tells him can’t be true—that he is the prince of stories and the lord of dreams and that he is more than human. He is something like a god. Robin assumes it’s partly a lie to make up for not having him around. He’s 10 now and it’s getting hard for Papa to fool him with stories.

Besides Robin seems fully human. He can’t walk in dreams or talk to ravens. So he’s pretty sure his father is just another alpha who knocked up an omega and didn’t stick around.

There’s one thing about Robin that’s special: he is immortal. But he’s pretty sure he got that from papa, not his mystery father. They have to move around a lot to keep people from noticing.

One day however, strange men come to the house. They know who his papa is. They know he’s immortal.

Hob doesn’t panic for robin’s sake. He pushes a big amber stone into Robin hand and tells him to run. That he will protect him. And that he can use the stone to call his father. Robin runs and his papa is taken away.

Dream and hob haven’t spoken since the break up in 2024–not long after dream first came back to him. So he is surprised when the dream stone he gave hob once suddenly activates. He’s even more surprised when he follows the trail to a crying boy with angry brown eyes, a familiar nose and a shock of unruly dark hair.

Oh I love this. I'm interpreting that Hob named Robin after the Robyn he had all those hundreds of years ago - a tribute to his first son. Although he doesn't think that Dream would want anything to do with the child, Hob still feels that he would approve of the name.

And Dream sure does get the shock of his life when he finds tearful, defensive young Robin with the dreamstone clutched in his hand. Those angry brown eyes say so much, and Dream just knows without having to be told. That's his son. That's Hob’s son. But he doesn't have time to unpack it, because Robin is already tugging on his sleeve and demanding that Dream rescue his papa.

Dream does exactly that, of course. Before long, he discovers Hob’s location, eviserates his captors and grabs him tight. He's scenting Hob and Hob is scenting him back, and it's like they never broke up. But then Dream remembers Robin, and quickly spirits Hob out of the location he was being held in, and takes him to his son. Their son.

Hob holds onto Robin very tightly when they're reunited. The scent of protective omega flares up in the air, and Dream wants nothing more than to submit to him. Prostrate himself, bare his throat, and beg Hob to take him back. He wants Hob and he wants Robin. He'd do anything to be allowed to be with them.

And now Robin's seen him, he wants his father too. Especially as he saved his papa's life. He can't resist giving Dream a big hug, nuzzling against him and scenting him enthusiastically. Hob’s eyes fill up with tears. God, he wants Dream to hold him too! He's taken care of Robin on his own for 10 years, and he wants desperately to share that precious journey with Dream. He wants Dream to take care of him, too.

Robin may have to do a bit of work to get his stubborn parents together, but he knows that they both want the same thing. The both smell like longing and lost love, but there's also hope. They just need a little help to get there!

#the sandman #dreamling #cw omegaverse #cw mpreg

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yamisnuffles · 9 months ago

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I love Aziraphale because he's expected to be hard, to be a warrior, but he chooses to be soft. He's not gentle, kind, and good because he's an angel. We've seen what the other angels are like and many of them are anything but. And there's no doubt that he could be that warrior if he wanted. He was issued a flaming sword, after all. But he gave it away and seemed none to eager to use it when he finally picked it up again. No, he is who he is because he chooses to be that way again and again.

I adore that. In a world that's often so hard and in a system that expects him to be just as hard, he chooses to be soft. To be silly. He learns to dance even though angels don't dance. He learns magic and French the human way. Successful or not, he likes playing parts, living it up as a double agent and newspaperman. He wears glasses because he thinks they're nifty. He enjoys eating food and going to the barber not because he has to but because he likes being pampered. To be fussy and indulgent. Despite strength and miraculous powers, he makes himself vulnerable so that he can be coddled and rescued.

And it's not like it's easy for him. He has to struggle against what's expected of him and against judgment from the other angels. He was worried about doing the wrong thing before the beginning, before there was even really a concept of the wrong thing. He's so terribly anxious but he doesn't let it stop him from trying to do real good. He did his part to save Job's family, even when he was certain he would fall for it.

Most difficult of all, he loves. Is in love. A thing humans do, he says to the Archangels in S2. So that's not just some easy, natural, angelic thing for him. It's very human and very scary because it's not really something he's meant to do and especially not with a demon. But he pushes slowly forward as best he can. He risks small touches and can't help but wear his heart on his sleeve with that all too expressive face. He's the angelic embodiment of heart eyes. Because he wants to love and be loved.

This isn't all he is, of course. He can be bitchy and petty and hard when pushed. He can be the warrior he was built to be. Those aren't bad things. Just enough of a bastard and all that. But just enough also means they also don't define him.

Which is where my frustration comes in. I understand the desire to flip the script sometimes. I like to do it myself from time to time and definitely think Aziraphale should be allowed to take charge. But it feels like, more often than not, large parts of fandom have taken those moments and made them all of who he is. Of the two of them, he's often made to be much more impassive and distant than Crowley. It's Crowley who is more emotional, who is more overcome physically. Despite the fact that it's almost entirely Aziraphale in canon who reaches and touches. Despite Michael Microexpressions Sheen putting so much open heart into Aziaphale's face. He isn't allowed to be soft and needy, comforted, coddled, and rescued. To be the one who yearns and lets himself be weak with it.

Just... let him be soft and silly. Let him be the person he most often chooses to be.

#aziraphale #good omens #long post #gos2 #pls I'm old and tired and not trying to pick a fight #just I so often see someone wearing aziraphale's face #and have to say #this is not my beautiful house #this is not my beautiful wife #good omens meta #meta #sort of lol #more a wild ramble

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redsrooftopprincess · 1 month ago

Text

Bird

Raphael x Fem!reader

Warnings: Refrence to guns and animal death

(This is pure catharsis. It happened to me earlier today and I'm still feeling it. Thank you so much @truffle-draws-turtles for the emergency Raph hug. I really needed it.)

"Monsters!!!" You growl as the front door hits the wall so hard the knob leaves a dent. You toss your bag in the corner, ignoring the explosion of boots, heels, and sneakers that scatter from the mud mat.

You storm past everyone congregated in the living room for pre patrol coffee, and down the hall to your bedroom, clearly having been crying. Picture frames shake on the wall as you slam the door behind you.

Everyone exchanges worried glances, before Raph breaks off to head down the hall.

There is a gentle knock on the door.

"Come in," you say, sniffling, wiping your nose on your sleeve. He opens the door to you sitting on the edge of the bed wiping your eyes.

"Hey princess," he says softly, "you okay?"

You close your eyes and shake your head and cover your face with your hands as a sob escapes you.

He's by your side in seconds, pulling you into his lap and wrapping you up in his arms as you cry. When you're calm enough to speak again, he kisses you on the forehead and tilts your face to his. "What can I do?" He asks.

You shake your head, "Nothing. It's over."

"What is?" He asks, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

A few more tears fall, which he wipes away as well. "I cut through the park on my way home and there were some stupid kids firing off an airsoft rifle. At first they were just scaring the ducks, you know? Dick move but pretty harmless. But then they actually hit one."

Your voice thickens as new tears begin to fall, "I tried, I really tried," you insist, "I got them out of the lake and pulled them to shore but they got hit in the neck and gods it took like two minutes. I didn't know what to do, so I just held it until it..." You bury your face in his shoulder and sob.

He tightens his grip around you, resting his head against yours, "I'm so sorry, princess," he rumbles softly, "did you tell anyone?"

You shook your head.

"Why not?"

"Promise you won't be mad?"

His brow furrows at that one, and gives you a look you know very well.

"I may have... followed them."

He sighs heavily, "Y/N..."

"Look, it was three jackass kids with an airsoft rifle, it wasn't like I was in any actual danger. They were basically just off the tit." You insist.

He rolls his eyes, "Okay, fine, still a dumb move, but what happened?"

You hesitate.

"Y/N..."

"I gave him a black eye and broke his gun..." you say quickly, cringe-grinning, hoping he's not too mad, "and his hand," you add quickly

He's quiet for a moment, "...and the other two?"

"One... may have accidently got their shoulder dislocated?"

He nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Lemme guess," he says, "You left the third alone so-"

"-so he could drive their stupid moped to the hospital, yeah," you confirm.

He wraps his arms tighter around you , squeezing gently, "that's my girl."

...

A/N

Unfortunately I didn't beat them up, just yelled at them. They were all adults. Not even youngish adults. But I did hold the poor limpkin and contact authorities. Nothing is going to happen because they're white rednecks and I'm a visibly queer, openly pagan monsterfucker, so I'm not the one they're going to believe. They're also my neighbors, so this should be fun...

So if anyone could just send some karma-type vibes to those fuckers, it'd be appreciated.

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

#bayverse raphael #raphael x reader #tmnt raphael #bayverse raphael x reader #raph x reader #tmnt #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt bayverse #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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satelitis · 9 months ago

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꒰ CAN'T GET RID OF ME THAT EASILY ꒱ . . . f reed !

pairing(s) : fulton reed x fem!portman!reader (romantic) , dean portman x sister! reader (platonic)

in which before the game against varsity, the portman siblings have a surprise up their sleeves.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : fluff, yelling, swearing

robin chirps : erm so im out of my writing slump and ziggy and i nonstop talk about tmd and our boyfriends, so i decided to surprise her since she kinda got me out of my writing slumps and introduced me to my bf charlie and one of the most amazing movies of all time <3 ily zigma!! [@spaceagebachelormann]

"your'e playing hard, i'm proud of you guys." coach orion reassured as he patted russ on the shoulder.

"they're cheap shotting us to death!" luis groaned.

"i know they are, i know they are." orion sympathized.

"It's gonna take a miracle for us to hold on." averman replied. little did the ducks know that "miracle" would be a little more unexpected then they thought.

suddenly, the door burst open revealing a tall brunette with a bandana around his head. dean portman.

"dean portman is awarded a full athletic and academic scholarship to the eden hall academy," dean read off his maroon folder. "i found this lying around at home in chicago, my attorny thought i should sign it, and i agreed." he continued. "it's offical boys, im back!" he exclaimed as all the ducks cheered, especially fulton. his heart broke the day that his best friend dean, and the love of his life, y/n had to go back to chicago. he was ecstatic at the sudden appearance of his fellow bash brother. but if dean was here...then where was y/n?

"hey you ass, where'd you go?" a voice spoke in the doorway. fulton could recognize that voice from anywhere. y/n. the voice was further identified when she herself wandered into the room. fulton was beyond shocked, jovial and he felt that he might have a heart attack because of how much was happening. in no time at all, y/n was in fultons arms their lips interlocked.

"did you miss me?" y/n teased, as fulton rolled his eyes, kissing her once again. dean looked partially disgusted.

"what the hell. why didn't i get one?" dean joked, activly trying to piss y/n off. the girl gave her brother the bird as the ducks laughed and watched the cute reunion. russ and averman made jokes in the background and snickered.

"oh, fulton! i missed you so much mwah mwah mwah." averman said in a feminine high pitched voice, as he faked kissing noises. russ continued with the bit presumably as fulton.

"i missed you too, babe." he said also mimicking kissing sounds. the ducks snickered. fulton proceeded to threaten the two.

"will you shut the hell up before i give you pucks for teeth?" he said. averman and russ laughed, as they stopped the bit. fulton turned his attention back to y/n now answering her question. '

"of course i missed you, you were gone for like ever." he exaggerated. but that's what it felt like for the couple.

"the phone calls weren't the same." he frowned softly.

"yeah, 'specially WHEN DEANS BREATHING ON THE OTHER LINE." y/n raises her voice as she turns back to dean.

"why didn't you call me and tell me you were coming?" he asked her,

"cause this was way more fun." she replied, a goofy grin on their faces. "you can't get rid of me that easily." she said.

'i'd hate to intrude on your little love fest but we got a bunch of temperamental man children's asses to kick." russ chimed in.

the ducks all cheered as they made their way on the ice.

"is that dean portman?" the teenage announcer asked. the crowd was in unbelief, "oh and his sister, y/n! they're both back!" he exclaimed.

"who are those kids? they cant play!" tom exclaimed. "they're on scholarship tom, my hands are tied." dean buckley replied.

"so you're the big enforcer, huh? well its nice to meet you, see, we have a lot more in common then you think-" dean rambled.

"shut up." the warrior spat, "lets play hockey," he said.

"whatever you say sunshine," dean shrugged, the game continued as dean ended up making cole go through the glass, shattering it.

dean and fulton cheered as they banged their heads together. "the bash brothers are back and they're here to stay and so is "y/n "the firecracker" portman, as she scores goal one for the ducks!" the announcer called out and boy was fulton beyond happy with it.

#quill to paper (rowan's version)#fulton reed #fulton reed x reader #the mighty ducks #the mighty ducks x reader #d1 #d2 #d3 #fulton reed x fem reader #fulton reed x yn

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loverwebs · 2 years ago

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Your Lips, My Lips

Pairing: Bella Ramsey x Costar!Reader

Synopsis: How much of what you say during your interviews with Bella is platonic?

Part two of A Perfect Pair but can be read on it's own!

Word count: like 800

With Bella still holding her hand, Y/n giggled on her way into the room she was staying in and gave them a gentle squeeze before letting go.

They had both stopped running after they exited the interview room, but were still catching their breath due to the adrenaline.

"Why'd you say that?" Bella wondered out loud, wiping the little bit of sweat from their palm onto their jeans.

"Say what?" Y/n replied cluelessly.

"That we were gonna makeout," they said like it was obvious.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I just thought it would be a funny way to end it."

"Oh, right," Bella laughed nervously, fidgeting with the buttons of her long-sleeve. "But, like, do you only make those types of comments around me because they're funny?"

"Do you want me to stop making them?" Y/n chewed on her lip, shifting her gaze so that she was only staring at the floor. "Because they're not funny if you're uncomfortable."

"No, no! I don't mind." Bella answered. "It's just— like, is it just because you think they're funny?" Is there any truth behind what you're saying? was what she really wanted to ask.

"I don't know, Bels." Y/n replied nervously, "I just say whatever comes to mind sometimes. But if it's bothering you, tell me and I'll stop."

"That's okay. It doesn't bother me."

"Are you sure?" Y/n asked, afraid she'd crossed a line.

Bella only sat down on the hotel bed in response and wordlessly gestured for her to join them. She followed shortly and looked at them curiously. "It...it does bother me a little—"

"Oh, Bels," Y/n groaned in embarrassment, placing her hands over her face. "I'm so sorry! I really am. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. I promise I'll do better," she rambled, only stopping once she heard the fit of giggles that Bella let out.

They looked at her amusingly and smirked a little, which only furthered her embarrassment. "Oh my God. I can leave—"

"You don't have to go anywhere, love," Bella chuckled, gently holding onto her wrist in order to stop her from getting up. "Let me finish my sentence, yeah?"

"I don't know what you could possibly add to that, but sure," Y/n nodded for them to continue, face flushed when she felt the comforting hand on her knee.

"It bothers me. Just...not in the way that you think."

"What do you mean?"

They gave her a knowing look, then moved their hand from her knee and brought it upwards, moving hair away from her face. Their lingering fingers near Y/n's ear made her shiver, and she gulped at their proximity.

"What I'm saying is, it bothers me that you keep joking about it, when you could just kiss me already."

All Y/n could feel at that point was her heart pounding in her ears. "You...you...what?" She stammered, beyond surprised by the fact that she was forming coherent words at that point.

"Kiss me," the brunette whispered, face leaning closer to the girl.

Their lips were practically touching at that point, which Y/n still had a hard time grasping. She nearly pinched herself right there.

"I obviously want to," she started, "Are you sure you want me to—?"

"You talk too much," Bella said, rushing to close the gap between them.

It took Y/n a few seconds to reciprocate, but once she did, they instantly melted into each other. It was hesitant, but the delicacy of the situation faded away as their lips moved in unison.

Bella found herself squealing internally due to the unfound confidence she'd acquired, meanwhile Y/n maneuvered her body, bringing herself closer to them.

It was even more perfect than either of them could have imagined. Their lips tasting sweet and addicting, like the world's best flavor of their favorite thing had been discovered right there in that tiny hotel room.

Before they knew it, the soft, gentle kiss had turned into a heated, sloppy makeout.

Y/n's hand found it's way behind Bella's neck, wanting to bring them closer to her, which resulted in Bella fighting back a smile at her eagerness. They then cupped Y/n's face, shifting her slightly so that her back could land on the bed and kept their arms propped up for support as they made out.

Both of their lips matched each other's perfectly and they couldn't seem to get enough.

"Damn." Bella whispered while catching their breath, still reluctant to move away from her.

"What?"

"You're a much better kisser than when we were on set," she teased. "You've had a lot of time to improve, I see."

"You're absolutely insufferable, did you know that?" Y/n scoffed, only smiling when Bella planted a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"I'm just saying." Bella grinned, caressing her arm shyly. "Maybe it wasn't as good because loads of people were around."

"Whatever. If I remember correctly, you were the one who kept asking to reshoot the scene."

"I did do that, didn't I?" they blushed. "I guess I couldn't get enough."

"I knew it," replied Y/n, once again kissing them passionately.

A/N:

i had a very different idea for what i wanted part 2 to look like but i ended up scrapping that for now cuz this one fits better. and i'll make the other one an entirely different fic later. anyway, hope u liked it :)

🏷️ : @lovelyyevelyn @kyleeservopoulos @randomstory56 @frasersgf @senassn @shrek-ellie @euphoricghost

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

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Yan Clown/Circus + Imaginary Friend Darling Blurb

Throughout life, friends come and go, but you - were always the first.

Things were simple in the beginning. Sit with that lonely kid at the playground, wipe their face with your sleeves, and ask if they wanted to be friends. They always said yes. You were inseparable. Playing until streetlights came on plus a seat saved for you at the dinner table when they reluctantly returned home. The biggest fears you faced where the monsters under the bed and the dark... then came school, homework, the future. Your playdates became so far and few, they put in the efforts to make new friends and you were so happy for them.

"Y/n? Who's that? Quit talking to yourself and come hang out with us."

But none of them ever wanted to be yours. Your friend was never home anymore and when they were it was always school work or video games taking their attention. Your place at the table was given to someone else. They'd gradually drift away from speaking to you and it was like you never existed in the first place to them, and maybe you never did - so you left. Back to that empty that existed before it all. There, you remembered all your friends. All your precious memories and the treasures they gave you their parents questioned them about when they disappeared. You hated it there. You didn't want to reminisce on the good times - it only lead to wordless goodbyes. Why - why did they always leave you behind?

"I got invited to a slumber party this weekend... Everyone turned out to be so nice once I gave them a chance like you told me to.... You'll... always be my best friend, but I have real ones now. I'm not a kid anymore - and I can't live in a fantasy world forever."

Of course you always knew - but did your time together really mean nothing? The smiles and tears, joys and fears - were those fake too? This was how life for you went and has gone your entire path. Make a new friend, wait for them to make their own, force yourself to forget, and repeat. You never, ever blamed them for abandoning you. It was your biggest dream to see your friends go out in the world and do all the things you rambled about for hours - you just wished you could've been their when they made their dreams come true. If they could make those fantasies reality, why couldn't you be real too them? It's not fair-

"Hey! You gonna put your raspberry in the square yet? I don't mind waiting cuz you're really cute - but I've eaten most of the blueberries already and if I eat one more I won't have enough for a win."

A new friend - you kept them waiting, lost in your thoughts like that. There's something different about this one... They're a lot bigger than your old friends and dress strange just like those funny people in shows. How old are they?

"28..... Is my favorite number because that's how many waffles I can eat before throwing up. I dunno my age really, I like a lot of candles on my pie so it's hard to remember. I'm probably waaaaaay older - or younger, but I'm definitely not younger than eighteen because I get a new doll every year - and there's a ton. Hey, when's your birthday so we can get your collection started?"

An adult - An adult can see you, but why?

"Hmmm, I dunno how you got in here either. I was just thinking about how great it would be to have someone to eat all these waffles with since I made 29 today - and poof you appeared outta nowhere. You gotta so me that trick eventually - wanna be pals? I'll give you... a quarter, no- half the stack if ya stick around. My name's Gus. Gus the clown."

A clown... Alot of your friends loved those, others were terrified. This one reminded you alot of them. So silly and carefree, just like they always were before reality kicked in. It was never that way for Gus. You'll never forget the shocked look on their face when you told them chocolate milk didn't come from brown cows. They serenaded you with songs detailing your adventures together and nearly had a heart attack when you played peekaboo together which they later tried to play off as good acting - the tear smudges in their paint was just from hot how was is.

At the same time, Gus was far more mature they let on. They fantasized about finding the missing piece to their act and heart, and hopefully marrying that special someone someday. They were all smiles - but as soon as someone got hurt they knew when to drop the act and when to use it to their advantage. You prayed the day they found someone they wouldn't ditch you like everyone else.

It turned out there were a lot more like Gus. True to their status as a performer, they worked and lived in a traveling circus with others who were accepting of you - and had the eyes to see you. They never doubted your existence like parents used to and believed near ever word Gus said even when at the point in time you were nothing more than the ramblings of a mad-clown, and greeted you in kind. Overtime, you became corporal for these performers too and the brief hellos turned to bear hugs thrust upon dolls Gus' sibling made for everyone to have when they wanted sat hello. They still couldn't touch you, but for the first time everyone knew you were their and love you the same, if not more than the friend you came for. Sometimes it really did feel like you were a real person. If only....

"Ouch!"

You pull your hand away from Gus' as the clown bursts into a fit of giggles - yelping in pain as they clap their hands together, electrocuting themselves on the buzzer.

Whoo! That definitely sends a shock through ya. Can't believe that got you. Hey - that got you... you've never been hurt by any of the things we've done before."

They're right. That really did hurt. Wait. It hurt. You've never been able to interact with anything before - leaving Gus overwhelmed on brunch dates when they devoured your share. What's going on?

Gus expresses the confusion you're both feeling with a high-pitched scream. They dart around the room, nabbing their emergency supplies of candy from beneath their pillow. "Ahhhh, idea - Y/n, try one of these - hurry!"

You take one of the licorice sticks and shove it in your mouth. If picked up the treat wasn't proof enough, the explosion of flavor on your tongue confirmed your theories.

"It's...good."

Gus races in a circles, squeeling in delight as they grab and pinch your plush - warm cheeks. "They've never been warm before! This is amazing. Ahhh, next test- here goes!"

Shutting their eyes, Gus rams their lips against yours - grinning with teeth against your skin. They kiss your lips, cheeks, and noses - smothering you with a hug, soaking up the beat of your speeding heart.

"You have no idea long I've wanted to do that...."

You're still reeling from everything going on. "W-what's happening, Gus?"

"No clue! If you want my guess, I'd say so many people believing in you made you real like that one movie with the puppet. The others! Oh, man everyone's gonna love this! Come on!"

Gus picks you up and sprints to the main show room. They gather everyone into the area along with the biggest mirror they could find. They try to explain, but the excitement gets the better of them. Frustrated by everyone's agreeable questions - they rip off the blanket covering the mirror and your reflection, and the crowd goes wild.

"That wasn't there before! Can we touch Y/n now???"

"I call dibs on giving them their first piggyback ride!"

"Wonderful timing! I knitted you a lovely scarf before I forgot you technically were a figment of our combined imaginations."

"If they're really here and can touch stuff... They can be part of the show - can't they?"

Thats right. You'd fit right in with your history too. After a celebratory dinner and cuddle session - the preparations for your big debut were made. As expected, everyone loved you. You and Gus were the starting act, and two halves of the same whole. People saw you, they praised you, loved you. The adoration of the crowd was like no other, but everything after the curtains were closed was even better. Gus kept to their promise of never leaving you behind. You were that missing piece - someone they couldn't live without. It was time for you to finally grow up and leave the ghosts of the past where they lied.

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetie. You'll love it once we get there."

This is bullshit. Their college gradation and their folks were dragging them to some circus. Luckily they had a few buds pull through for an aftershow at a nearby bat.

"Maybe your opinion will change when you see the staring act. That clown reminds me a lot of that friend you used to go on about. What was their name again? I think it was -"

Y/n. Your name and smiling face were plastered on a billboard they passed. It was no vague resemblance - that was their first companion down to the scrunchie you wore around your wrist that they gave you on the day they gave you the lukewarm mercy of a goodbye. It couldn't really be you - right?

"Look how big you've grown...."

No-

"Your parents tell me you're graduating this year. I'm so, so proud of you. Are you going to become a scientist just like you said?"

How?

"You always said it was so you could find a way for everyone to see me too... I'm sorry for holding you back for so long. It's good that you made friends. I made alot too - really good ones. With them, I can live in fantasy and the real world at the same time. It's so much fun."

What are you apologizing for? Why are you acting like you're the one that abandoned them. You were everywhere to them. Everything they ever achieved was because of the shoulder you gave them to lean on. Being with you was like a dream - but everyone has to wake up eventually.

"Oops! Looks like a wasted all our time. I have a few more scheduled greets, but maybe if you stay after we can chat a little more before you leave. See you!"

They don't want to leave. There's still so much to be explained; to say and do, but just like them - you were gone as you appeared. They had to see you again in a better time. Do imaginary friends drink coffee?"

"How's it feel to be the one on the other end of the stick?"

Another clown stands behind them. It was the same one that shared your act. Gus. What do they want?

"Y'know I know alllll about what happened between you two. I know everything from their past since as their bestest friend - and potential future spouse - it's my job to make them loved enough to spill every, little detail. You shouldn't have come here. You're not the first to recognize them - and you won't be the last.

The ball of their wrist juts painfully against their skin as the clown grabs their arm.

"I won't let any of you get back into their heart. I won't let anyone hurt them again. You can't just take back what you broke when someone else fixes it. I'll make you feel what they felt. I'll make them forget you - and anyone who tries to take them from us that I promise and promises are meant to be kept. Quick question before you go though - think Y/n will like these matching necklaces I made us? Anything looks cute when its on them - but think it'll fit better than that old scrunchie."

#Gus my oc #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere clown #yandere concept #yandere idea #yandere

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roxtron · 9 months ago

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Day 5: Rabbit, Reclaim

AGJGDFJF FINALLY IT'S DAY 5 SO I CAN POST THIS

For some reason everytime i draw him he looks so young because i'm accidentally overcorrecting since i'm used to drawing older characters. So unfortunately he looks way younger than i meant him to lol, whoops.

But wait there's more- AHAHAHA

While I did initially plan this for GGY week I eventually got the idea to use this as an excuse to draw other GGY designs, soo..

(Not sure why tumblr formatted it that way with 1 of them big but it doesn't matter lol)

I've been wanting to do this for a while, I put the tags of each person next to their design but ofc I'm still gonna tag them in the post itself so you can see their art for yourself if you haven't already. But I enjoyed each of these in their own ways so if you don't mind I think I'm gonna type a bit of text next to them..

@chipistrate This was one of the first I drew out of these, the design was pretty fun to draw but sorry if I messed up a few details, it was a bit difficult lol. The mask and goggles are really fun to draw and they make for a cool design, along with all the glowing blue. (and yes, I tried to subtly include the heelies lol)

@lunzi0 This was the first fursuit one I did lol. I adore the little stars in the design, they personalize it so well and make it really unique. I wanna try this design again since I feel like the other ones show my improvement a bit better, but I hope you can appreciate the effort I put in on my first attempt <3

@carouselrabbit This one was really fun to draw, I absolutely love the eye shape/lashes, it stands out and I always love drawing eyes with a bit of eyeliner lol, the daycare theme legwarmers is a cool nod to the balloon boy arcade machine being connected to them, and was just a fun addition in general lol, I like the style of legwarmers what can I say, fnaf changed my fashion sense a bit. also the subtle paraells to freddy's design is a nice way to connect a bit to gregory himself.

@puhpandas I can't remember if I talked about this design last time I drew it but, overall I'm really happy with how this came out, it's such an indicator of improvement since I started drawing this and I'm glad I was able to draw it better than last time lol. All the patchwork and similarities to Vanny's suit work really well, and the rabbit you chose to base it off of was a good fit, the colors make it a bit more difficult to shade for but i like detail lol, hope you like it too :)

@dykevanny I knew I wanted to do this since I started but I wasn't sure if I'd have time, and I'm glad I did! I hope you don't mind I combined aspects from the first design I saw and the second one you replied to my ask with, I liked the big purple sleeves lol. (I just realized after doing all the shading I forgot to include the oil splatter on his jacket, sorry!) It was definitely a bit difficult due to the head shape being so different but.. fluffy. i love drawing fluff. And the glowing swirl on the goggles, the shape of the ears, I love a lot about this design. :D

I have a hard time with writing compliments but I wanted to get some of those thoughts out, some of the things I like about these designs apply to multiple lol. I adore every one of these designs but I find it hard to put into words what I enjoy about them, hope the original creators are happy with these. <3

I also kept the ggys without as much lighting effects on a separate file, I felt like I should add them since they're a bit brighter lol, makes them look different.

Okay now that I've gotten all that- Sorry this post is so long! I didn't think it'd end up taking up so much space lol. Buut.. working on this drawing and thinking about it and potential context behind it gave me an au idea for it, but I'll put it under the cut since I understand most people probably won't care and just wanna see the drawings lol.

Idk if I'm confident enough to write for it but I'll give a bit of a summary.. I'll keep it under the cut for people who aren't interested and just wanna see the art though lol.

After the main events of SB and Ruin, now that the mimic's been set free, Cassie's taken control of by what's left of Vanny, using her as a new host. But with Cassie being the only human left alive down there, after being reawakened, Dr. Rabbit has nowhere left to go but back to his old host.

Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory hadn't gone back to the Pizzaplex after ruin, but they were trying to figure out a plan to get Cassie back safely. One night after Freddy and Gregory disappear, Vanessa leaves to go find them. As dangerous as the pizzaplex is, it's her best guess for where they might've gone. She doesn't want to think about what could've happened to them, in denial for the worst case scenario. She tries to keep herself calm by telling herself they probably just left to go back for Cassie, maybe they didn't want her stopping them.. but deep down she knows it can't be that simple. She knows something's off, even if she's not ready to admit it.

When returning to the pizzaplex, she brought along her own V.A.N.N.I. mask, though unlike the one Cassie used, it was clear of the mimic's influence. After all, she was going to need some way to travel through potential blocked routes.

By the time she found Gregory, she'd still been wearing the mask, seeing him down the end of a dark hallway. He looked confused, afraid, his mind was a wreck of conflicting emotions. She started rushing towards him, happy to see him okay, until he finally spoke.

"You need to get out of here."

She stepped back, taking off the mask, only to be faced with the worst case scenario.

It was a wreck, covered in stains and tears, but it was still recognizable. He was wearing that old suit again.

As he waved, she could see Freddy's claws peeking out from the doorway, as the two stepped closer towards her.

So, she did what he told her to do, and started running. She could hear a faint voice coming from the mask, and put it back on before finding somewhere she could hide.

It was his voice again, telling her which way to go.

I guess that was the dramatic way to summarize the main idea behind it, lol. Basically Gregory and Dr. Rabbit work the way Sun and Moon work in Ruin, whichever one is in control in the real world, the other is left behind in the AR world. Or at least that's my interpretation of how they worked, considering Sun was always in mask-on scenes and moon was mask-off. I'm not too sure where the plot might go from there, and maybe I'll consider writing for it, I dunno. I've never wrote fanfic before because I get deadly afraid of writing them out of character lol, but maybe?? I have ideas for scenes and premise and stuff but I don't know if I have the confidence to write it.

But anyway! That was just more of a fun side-idea I came up with while working on this, if you read this far thanks, hope you enjoyed :)

here's some silly little lineless doodles as a reward for making it to the end hehe

now that's what I call an art dump

@ggyweek2024

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a-aexotic · 2 years ago

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half & half. part 001. next

warnings ; mention of abuse, trespassing, weed, arresting, mention of mental abuse (lmk if i missed anything)

main masterlist. obx masterlist.

The summer in the Outer Banks was never dull, always an adventure around the corner. That's why you loved it so much and why it was going to be so hard for you to leave.

You were going to college on the mainland in the fall and it was going to be hard for you to leave your hometown. Everything you cared about was here, including your reckless little brother.

Ever since you were kids, you was always getting him out of trouble. You tried to believe that he was going to fine without you watching out for him but it was hard for you believe, especially when he does stupid shit like this.

You waited in the police station's waiting room, awaiting the cop to get JJ from the cell. Apparently he had trespassed on someone's property and was found with weed. You were glad Sheriff Peterkin had called you instead of his father, you knew that would've caused more harm than good.

As soon as JJ saw you, he waved at you like a little kid waving to their parent at a talent show. You resisted the urge to groan. The cop escorted him to the front desk so you could sign his release. You walked over to them, a tight smile on your face. You were already planning the lecture in your head that you were about to give him.

"Hey, Y/N." He flashed his signature smile at you. You ignored him and looked over at the cop, giving him all your attention.

"Sign here," the cop explains. "And here, here, and there."

You obliged, signing the papers before the cop gave you the okay to leave. You grabbed JJ by the sleeve and walked out of the station.

"Ow! Be careful, I just got this shirt." He joked before you glared at him. You were trying to save the lecture until you guys got into your car but JJ was making it hard for you to hold your tongue.

You ignored him as you unlocked the car, JJ getting in the passenger seat. You put on your seatbelt before sighing heavily.

"God, JJ, how reckless could you be?" You said as you turned to your brother. "I had to leave work early so I could bail you out. It was like, 500$, out of my pocket! That could've went to my school, JJ." You started the engine as you turned back. You were working at the country club so you can save up and pay for your expenses for college. You didn't want to take the money from your parents even though they'd be happy to give it to you.

"I'll pay you back, Y/N/N, promise." JJ states but you knew he couldn't. He doesn't have a job and even if he did, you knew you'd feel guilty taking money from him. "Thank you for bailing me out."

You sighed and glanced over at him. He had a sweet smile on his face and you could tell that he felt bad. You couldn't help but smile back at him. "Always, J."

You lent him the AUX and he started playing music.

"I'm gonna grow grey hairs 'cus of you, JJ." You stated as you two drove through Outer Banks. You had the windows down, feeling the summer heat on your face.

"Honestly, Y/N, I saved you. I mean, you're spending the afternoon with me instead of those country club assholes." He grumbled as he mentioned the Kooks. He wasn't wrong, they were assholes - but not to you.

Your father owned the country club so they had to be nice to you. If not, your father would have their heads and exiled from the country club.

"They're not too bad." You said simply. You didn't like to talk about the Kooks with JJ - it was a sensitive topic for you two. "They give me good tips, and without those tips, I wouldn't be able to bail you out of jail for trespassing."

JJ rolled his eyes and nodded, "I guess you're right. The Kooks are good for some things, like good tips."

The rest of the car ride was spent with you and JJ talking about everything and anything - you two were always extremely close. You had always taken care of JJ, even when you had moved to Figure 8. With your money, you bought him anything he desired.

JJ was two years younger than you and technically your half sibling - you two had different fathers. You had spent the first 8 years of your life with his father and not only witnessed the abuse, but endured it, too.

You and your mother were lucky to get out once your biological father had decided to come back to OBX after a few years. JJ wasn't so lucky. Your mom always said she couldn't get custody of JJ but you knew she was lying. Part of her didn't want JJ with them since he looks so much like his father. You tried not to resent her for it.

The only thing that ever came in between you and JJ was the fact you were a Kook and he was Pogue. He couldn't help but envy you and your happy, wealthy family.

You had arrived at the Chateau and you smiled at JJ. "I'll see you later, JJ. Stay out of trouble-"

Before you could finish you heard John B shout and you both turned your head to the home. John B ran happily to your car.

"JJ! Y/N!"

You rolled down your window and grinned at the brunette. "John B, how've you been?"

"Great, good to see you. I'm so happy JJ is still in one piece, I thought he-"

"I'm good, no thanks to you. You, Kie and Pope just ran off without me and left me. I'd expect it from Kie and Pope, but you?! I guess the 'no pogue left behind' doesn't apply to me!" JJ feigned hurt as John B sighed. You tried not to laugh at his dramatic words.

"Well if you weren't so slow-"

"Me? Slow? I got 7 minutes for my mile in P.E, so-"

"7 minutes? That's impossible, JJ, not with all the weed you smoke-"

"Listen, boys, I'd love to stay but I have somewhere to be. So..."

They both stared at you before JJ finally got out of the car and smiled at you. "Okay, I'll see you, Y/N/N. Have fun, be safe and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's nothing you wouldn't do." You joked before JJ glared at you. "Okay, shoo, you two. I'm gonna be late. Love you, see you later."

"Love you, too!" John B and JJ both replied before he scowled at the brunette.

"She was talkin' to me."

You drove away before the argument ensued. You drove to Figure 8 and as the sun went down, the air become cooler but not any less humid.

You drove towards the Cameron estate and you stopped the engine before taking off you seatbelt. You lived a few houses away from the Cameron's and when you moved to Figure 8, you had become close to the family.

Your father had expected you to become closer with the oldest son because you were his age but you and him never quite clicked. The more you hung around the siblings, the closer you became with Sarah and the more you grew farther from Rafe.

You had never had a pleasant conversation with him. He always seemed irritated with you, acting like you were just one of Sarah's little friends. Which you were, but he acted like you were the most annoying person on the island. Sarah assured you that's just how he acts but you couldn't help but wonder if there's more to Rafe Cameron than what meets the eye.

You exited your car and walked towards the big house, bikini in your small tote that hung from your shoulder. The Cameron's invited you and your family to a barbeque party for the celebration of the beginning of the summer.

Of course you had to be late because of JJ but you were sure they wouldn't mind since you had informed your parents. You knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer it. You weren't sure if Sarah was home yet and it was awkward if you had just waltzed in there.

Rafe had opened the door and his face immediately dropped when he saw you. He was wearing his usual polo shirt and bright shorts with his slides. You internally prepared yourself for another unpleasant interaction with the Cameron brother.

"Look who decided to show up, Kook princess #2." He feigned excitement. He had a bitter smile on his lips.

"Hello to you too, Rafe." You held back your tongue. You didn't want to be mean to him back, wanting to be the mature one.

"Who's at the door?" You heard Sarah shout before she came to the door and her face immediately morphed into a excited expression as she saw you. She pushed Rafe out of the way to embrace you.

"I was waiting for you! I heard what happened, JJ can be so stupid sometimes." Sarah grabbed your hand and dragged you to the pool, leaving Rafe to close the door. He grumbled.

"Sometimes?" You added as Sarah laughed. You and Sarah have been close since you had moved to Figure 8, she was your first true friend. She and Kiara were your closest friends despite the age difference.

You were all friends until they had their fight. Ever since then, you had to spend time with them separately. And god forbid if you mention the other in front one of them, hell would break loose.

You greeted Ward and Rose. Apparently your parents are out getting some beer since they had ran out.

You and Sarah sat at the pool, gossiping about the most recent drama in Figure 8, including her most recent date with Topper.

"Yeah, he paid for me and opened the door for me, he was such a gentleman." Sarah blushed as she explained, making you giggle and hit her arm playfully.

"Wow, he has you blushing. He must be nice, then. I mean, I wasn't expecting that since he's friends with Rafe." You whispered his name, not wanting to accidentally summon him. "But to be fair, what he's doing is the bare minimum. You deserve more than that."

"I know, but that's a good start!"

You nodded, "Yeah. Now that I think about it, Topper's always been nice to me. I just always assumed he was an asshole because he hung out with the biggest asses on the island."

"What about Topper?" Wheezie suddenly appeared, sitting next to the older girls.

"Nothing!" Sarah quickly says before Wheeize rolls her eyes.

"Sarah, I can hear your phone calls through the walls, they're very thin." Wheezie explains as Sarah goes red. "Oh, Topper, you're so funny! Oh, Top, you're such a loser!"

"Wheezie! Shut up!" Sarah shouts as you and Wheezie laugh at her reaction. "God, do I get any privacy in this house?"

"We got the beer!" You heard your father open the sliding door as you whip your head to him. Your mother followed him as he carried the cases of beer. You got up to greet your parents.

"Finally, I need another beer." You heard Rafe groan as he walked over to your father as well.

Your mother smiled and hugged you. "Hey, sweetie."

"Hi,"

"What happened with JJ? Is he okay?" Even though she had technically disowned JJ, you knew that somewhere in her, she still cared for him.

"Nothing, don't worry about it, he's fine."

Your father turned to you and he grinned. "Missed you this morning, kiddo. Breakfast was exceptionally delicious this morning." He gazed at his wife. Your housekeeper takes Sundays off and your mother usually makes breakfast.

You laughed, "yeah I bet. Did mom make her special blueberry crepes?" You embraced your father.

"Yep, and they were delicious."

Your mother had smiled at his words and started to blush. "Oh, you're flattering me."

You laughed at her words, knowing that she was just being humble. You let go of your father, taking a beer from the case and turned. You saw Rafe staring at you. He looked dejected as he watched you and your parents interactions. As soon as he noticed, he looked away and turned his attention back to his phone as he took a drink of the beer.

You had always felt bad for Rafe, knowing that Ward doesn't treat him as good as he does Sarah or Wheezie.

As the night progressed, Rafe had decided to go to bed early. Ward had made some burgers even though it late. You ate them though, you were starving and they hit the spot for you.

After a bit, you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you walked up the stairs, you heard some shouting.

"Why can't you get a job, Rafe. I'm tired of giving loan after loan, when are you going to pay me back?"

"Oh, suddenly I'm the problem, huh? Sarah can ask for money but as soon as I do, it's a problem. Sarah is just the perfect daughter, right, dad?"

You heard Ward let out a loud angry groan. "I always have to clean up your messes and make sure you don't fuck up the Cameron name, Rafe! Sarah has never disappointed me a day in my life. You have disappointed me more than she ever has and you're older than her. Why can't you be more like your sister-"

"I'm not Sarah, dad! I never will. I can never measure up to the goddess Sarah, can I?"

Before Ward could refute, Rafe stormed out the room and looked straight at you. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Rafe-"

He walked away, scoffing at your words. You heard him storm down the stairs, slamming the door before you heard his car start and drive away. You stood there in shock for a few seconds before finally processing what you just heard.

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whisperiin · 1 year ago

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hello!! do you have any domestic gray ravens hcs with skk reader? ✨✨

oh this is soooo ... i love this so much this is so cute ... well i definitely do now!!!! i think i got a little carried away so it got super long i'm sorry ... but i hope you enjoy!!

domestic gray ravens

content warnings: none

➸ It's common knowledge how devoted LUCIA is to Gray Raven, and this is true even in relative moments of peace between missions, too. She's a little awkward with it, but she wears her heart on her sleeve — just like how she wears the different scarves she bought in each of your favourite colours. It's actually really easy for her thoughts to return to you. Maybe she passed by a garden and got reminded of the plants Liv keeps, or saw a little malfunctioning robot and thought that Lee would be able to fix it in ten seconds flat, or caught a whiff of that food you said was your favourite — should she maybe get some for you...?

➸ She loves just spending time with everyone. Team dinners are a must for her! But... just let Liv handle the cooking. Lucia also seems like the type to make sure that you, Liv, and Lee all get to go to bed safe and sound, even if you haven't been doing anything except slacking off in the lounge — she'll walk everyone back to their rooms, or at the very least, ask you to send her a little message as soon as you get back.

➸ LEE has similar habits too, but he's just a little more awkward in showing he cares — not that he would ever admit as such. Just like Lucia, he feels just a bit more secure seeing for himself that you got back to your room unscathed. He also prides himself on being perceptive, and he has a tendency to fix problems you or the others might have before you notice them. Have you had trouble waking up lately? No worries, the little robot he gave you now alarms twice as loud!

➸ Lee also made it a point to remember your routines. He has a habit of scolding you if you stay up later than usual, or sighing in that disappointed way he does if you forget to eat a meal. He'll usually go off on some tangent about how a Commandant should be more disciplined than that, but if he's being honest, he just wants to make sure you're healthy. Humans are fragile compared to constructs, he would often say to you, and to Liv and Lucia, We need to maintain our performance, don't we? But that doesn't explain how involved he gets even in little things like double checking everyone's weapons to make sure they're absolutely fine, or even just walking just a bit closer to you if he sees you're uncomfortable or uneasy in any way.

➸ Caring for everyone almost comes as second nature to LIV, even if you or the others would fuss over how she has to care for herself, too. Honestly, she just loves when she's able to help you all in some way — the smiles on your faces and your heartfelt thanks are enough to put a spring in her step for a good while. She also likes messaging everyone little good morning or good night greetings, just to say hello or wish you sweet dreams even if she's already done so in person. Aside from that, she's usually the first to notice when one of you is upset. Maybe your shoulders are a bit more tense than normal, or you're glaring unusually hard at a random spot on the floor. At times like these, she'll gently pluck whatever you might have in your hands away, or lightly put a hand on your shoulder, and insist you get some rest with a smile — she'll even get you something warm to drink to calm you down; how about that?

➸ Liv has memorised everyone's favourite things by now, like whether you prefer coffee or tea or neither, which table at the cafe you all tend to sit at, what kind of colours everyone liles to wear when theyre not in those stiff uniforms. She also has a habit of picking up a few extra things for everyone while she's out and about — Lucia, didn't you mention you were looking at this frog plushie in the mall? Lee, you needed an extra set of tools, right? They had your favourite in stock again, Commandant, you don't mind that I got you some, do you?

#pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr x reader #punishing gray raven x reader #pgr lucia x reader #pgr liv x reader #pgr lee x reader #bee.writes

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imawreck · 4 months ago

Text

Carnival

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Bucky and Snow experience a carnival date.

Warnings: Just more fluff because it’s gonna get rough a few chapters from now, but of chaotic behavior

Word Count: 2,763

Snow-

I hadn't ever seen something like this in all my years on this earth.

Dim lights decorated an entire courtyard and massive machines rushed around with people on them. Some screamed in joy, some in terror, and children ran around with large multicolored clouds on sticks while laughing. Adults wandered in pairs, some in groups, and laughed as they talked with each other. Everyone looked happy and it warmed me.

Truth be told, I had never gotten the chance to divulge in these types of things. I had watched from the sidelines as if their world was a little globe I had to watch from beyond a glass wall. It felt so different being among them, dressed up, with someone to share the joy.

Bucky's arm radiated warmth from where it was looped with mine as he led me farther into the carnival. He smelled of leather and woody undertones from his cologne, familiar and comforting. I could tell he had put in effort to his appearance tonight too. His hair wasn't its normal level of unruliness, and his stubble looked angular and clean. "You trimmed your hair."

His blue eyes danced over me, "I did, I figured I needed it."

"You look very handsome Bucky, with or without a trim." My direct compliment seemed to startle him some as I watched his eyes widen and a red hue crawl his neck. I gave his arm a squeeze and steered us in the direction of some small tents set up along the fence. "What are these?"

He nodded with his hands shoved into his pockets, "These are just little rigged games you can play to try to win prizes."

I quirked a brow at him. "Rigged? Win prizes?"

He chuckled, "See, sometimes they'll rig the games to where no matter how hard you try, you can't win them. If you could, you would get to pick out one of those." He nodded once more towards some stuffed animals hanging from the sides of the tent and suspended on strings from the roof.

I marvelled at them, "We should try and beat them even if they're rigged."

Bucky shook his head, "I don't know about that Snow..."

I tugged at his arm, "Come on, you got the passes for everything here, right? We don't have to pay anything else, we might as well use it to our advantage." I stared into his bright hesitant eyes, "I think we can beat them."

His shoulders rose and fell in a defeated sigh, "Alright, we can try it."

I hollered in excitement, tugging on his leather sleeve. "Lets go! I want to do the ring toss first."

He obliged, smiling the whole way. We greeted the man behind the booth and he handed us the rings after a quick glance at the orange bands strapped around our wrists. Little glass bottles sat in a close triangle, barely any room to fit the tiny hoop around the lip of the bottles. I began to realize what Bucky had meant by rigged.

The man stood off to the side and smiled politely at us both as he explained the goal as he held out two small hoops. "Just gotta get one of your hoops around that there bottle with the red rim. Then you can pick any of these little prizes right here. Y'only get a prize if you get one around that red one in the middle."

I nodded, glancing up at Bucky who had adopted a look of concentration even though he didn't hold any hoops. He was skeptical on how it was possible aside from pure luck, I could tell by the doubt on his face. I bumped him with my hip, smirking at him as I bent down just a little to ready myself.

I felt a the cool breeze brush the back of my thighs where the dress had ridden up a little in the back with my movement and caught Bucky moving behind me out of the corner of my eye. He shot a sharp look over his shoulder as he angled himself to block anything from showing though I was certain it wasn't, I hadn't bent down that far. Such a gentleman.

I chuckled at him as I eyed the small glass rim, pulling my ring back and breathing out. I held my breath, measuring my strength and the distance, and softly released the small green hoop.

It glided through the air smoothly, spinning once before pinking right around the red rimmed glass. Both men gawked at my accomplishment as I stood back up, spinning around to face Bucky behind me and rocking up on my tippy toes. "I told you we could beat them!"

He looked down at me through his dark lashes, a small smirk climbing up his face as he took the last ring I had from between my fingers. His grip brushed mine and a shiver followed the patch of skin he had touched. I shied away from his eyes, suddenly aware of how close we were standing and stepped out of the way for him to try.

Bucky planted his feet similarly to how I had stood moments before and tugged at the base of his glove before he pulled his arm back. I could see his muscles contract even through the thick leather of his sleeve. I pulled my eyes away, not wanting the attendant to see me ogling my date.

Bucky took one last minute to analyze his move before tossing his hoop through the air. It hit the tip of the red bottle, teetering on it for a millisecond before falling off to the side onto the ground. Bucky huffed, shaking his head in disappointment. I gave him two quick pats on his shoulder, "No worries, you can show me up in a game of Ducky Pond." I pointed over to what looked like a kiddy pool swarming with small plastic yellow ducks. A look of determination flashed across Bucky's face as he nodded once, taking my hand in his.

The attendant at the ring toss spoke up, "Miss, you get to pick a prize."

I had nearly forgotten. I took a glance at the items hanging from the ceiling, then at the ones on the wall. There wasn't anything that caught my particular interest.

Right as I was about to deny a prize, a small child ran up to the counter beside me with her eyes alight with joy and excitement. "Mister sir, how can I get that pink ducky?" The girls voice was shrill but oddly polite for her age.

The attendant smiled grimly, "You'll have to toss this here ring onto that red bottle."

The child pondered at it for a moment, obviously noting the near impossibility of the feat. A woman, presumably the girls mother, took quick steps from the crowd behind us. "Penny, what did I tell you about running off without me? Let's get some cotton candy okay?"

I watched their interaction in wonder. The girl pointed with a small chubby finger at the pink duck that hung from a string. "Mommy, the man right there said I could win that ducky if I got a ring on a bottle. Can we please try?"

The attendant gave me an uncomfortable smile, obviously confused on how this situation would fall out. The woman gazed at the game for a moment before making a face of irritation, quickly smoothing it over with an apologetic smile towards her daughter. "I don't think so Penny, this game is very hard and we don't have enough to pay for the ticket."

The girl's lip popped out and wobbled at her mothers' words. The look of sheer disappointment and heartbreak on the small child's face tugged at my heart as I turned towards the attendant. "I'd like the pink duck for this girl please."

I could feel Bucky's eyes on me as soon as I spoke, watching as the attendant tugged the duck from it's string and handed it to me. I took it gratefully, careful not to let my dress ride up as I set on my knees in front of the girl. "Here you go, I'm sure she would be much happier with you to take care of her."

The little girl grinned from ear to ear, throwing her small arms around my neck and bouncing up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you miss!"

I laughed, wrapping an arm around her to return the hug and handing the fluffy duck to her. She spun it around and ran circles around her mother who smiled appreciatively at me.

Bucky's hand came to rest on my shoulder, looking at me with smiling eyes. "That was really nice of you."

I shrugged, taking his hand he offered to tug me from the ground. "I can't stand it when kids cry, tugs the heartstrings.”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off me as his hand slipped back into mine. "Ducky Pond?"

I shot him an arrogant look, "Oh yeah, you ready to lose?"

_____

Bucky was terrible at ducky pond. "How are you doing this? It's impossible!"

I cackled from my spot on one of the two round stools the booth attendant had provided us when she realized we meant to play a while. It wasn't an issue with her due to the difficulty of the game and the lack of participants.

I watched Bucky as he gripped the tiny plastic fishing rod, glaring daggers into the thin hook dangling from the end of the thread. Beside him, one duck sat in a bright blue bowl right there next to the purple one spilling over with a dozen.

The purple was obviously not Bucky's. "You just gotta get the hook through the little loop Buck, it's not that hard."

He scowled at me as I plucked another duck from the pond, checking for a pink sticker on the bottom. There wasn't one so I tossed it onto the pile. Bucky swatted my pole with his when I went for the next duck, "Hey!"

"You have too many, leave some for me." He sniffed, tossing his hook back down into the almost empty pool.

I scoffed, delicately picking up the duck he had smacked me away from. A hot pink dot caught my eye and I shouted, wagging it in front of him. "I got it!"

The attendant clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter at the look of muted rage Bucky gave the duck in my hand. I handed it over to her, grinning from ear to ear at my accomplishment. "You can choose from this case right here. Since you play so well, I'll give you one of the nicer ones."

Inside the case she had pointed to was rows of small little charms with cheap chains attached to them. I brushed past my brooding date besides me and leaned over the case to get a better look.

Almost immediately, my eyes were drawn to the solid metal snowflake resting at the bottom row. It was barely the size of my pinky nail attached to a small clasp. I pursed my lips to fight the smile that rose to my face a the thought of the nickname Tony had given me. "I'd like that one, please." I tapped the side of the glass to show her which one when she went to pull it out.

I felt the warmth of Bucky's hand press against my back and I couldn't help the shiver that danced over my skin.

The attendant handed it to me in a small plastic bag, "It's stainless steel so it shouldn't tarnish. You have a good time with your boyfriend, miss." I felt my face heat up at the mention of Bucky being my boyfriend but nodded, giving her a warm smile.

Bucky kept his hand on my back as we walked away from the booth. He eyed the small bag I clutched in my hands. "What did you pick out?"

I glanced up at him, "I got something for you, actually." I turned to him, stepping out to the side to avoid the crowds of people.

He stood in front of me, blocking everything else from view with his broad shoulders and towering frame. Bucky's blue eyes looked at me in wonder, "What is it?"

I eyed his collar, checking to see if I had indeed seen his dog tags dangling beneath his shirt earlier this evening. Sure enough, the worn chain peaked out from behind his white button up. Meeting his eyes again, I asked quietly, "Can I see your dog tags?" I knew what I was asking was more than the words themselves. Those were Bucky's personal items, and personal items to a soldier who didn't have much was like asking for his eye.

Bucky's blue eyes blazed with hesitance but he nodded slowly, reaching around his neck and lifting the chain over his head. He dangled them in front of me and released them into my outstretched palm. I closed my fingers around them while I rummaged through the small paper bag until the cold metal brushed my fingertips. I pulled it out, opening the clasp and snapping it around the chain between the two tags. When I had made sure it was secure, I lifted the chain up and over Bucky's head.

"I figured you could use a reminder," he lifted his hand to brush against the addition as I explained to him, "of who is the best at Ducky Pond."

A bark of laughter left him as he rubbed the charm between his fingers, looking at me with something I couldn't place. "Thank you Snow, I won't forget."

I couldn't pull my eyes away from him, "I have something else for you." But I shied away from his curious eyes at my confession. "I can't tell you now, it's too crowded here. When we get back to the compound."

Bucky nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Okay Doll, I'll wait."

There it was again, that nickname. My insides felt like a thousand butterflies were fluttering around inside of me.

Just as I was about to comment on it, someone moved just beyond a tent a few yards away from where we stood. All black clothes, jean jacket, wire in the ear with a vaguely familiar face. I swallowed hard, taking a hold of Bucky's forearm and leaning into him as if I were going to kiss his cheek. I heard his breath hitch, his chest pause, and I spoke in his ear. "Someone is watching us. Blue tent, ten o'clock. Jean jacket with a wire."

His eyes followed mine, flickering over the faces until he caught sight of the man I had mentioned. The man was hardly passing as a civilian, at least in my eyes, with his combat boots and completely black outfit. He looked like he was trying so hard his effort canceled out.

Bucky's shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath. "Don't worry, just one of Tony's men. After the information we got in the interview, he was pretty upset I had asked you out. Hell, I surprised myself by asking you. He let us come out here because he figured that you could handle it if something happened but he sent out backup just in case. Wanted us to enjoy our date." Bucky's eyes dropped from mine as he finished the last sentence with a bashful expression.

I let myself relax with one final glance in the man's direction. We made eye contact, his beady black eyes boring into mine as a smile drew onto his face. He nodded once and turned away, walking back behind the tent.

Although something didn't quite set right about the man, I let it slide, figuring I was just paranoid after this week's events.

Bucky cleared his throat, "Should we try out a rollercoaster?"

I frowned, "What's a rollercoaster?"

A smirk tugged at his lips as he held out his arm, "Only the best adrenaline rush out there. Let's try the Bullet. It's fast and does a loop in the middle. You'll love it."

I stared at one of the large structures on the other side of the fairgrounds. "I don't know Bucky..."

"You're not afraid of heights, are you?" He teased me, poking me in the ribs.

"No I'm not afraid of heights! It's just new." I huffed, tugging my coat further over my shoulders.

His smirk grew, "Then prove it."

And that's exactly what I did.

Tags<3

@cjand10 / @blackbirdwitch22 / @imdoingathingmom

#angst #bucky barnes #drama #fluff #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #original character #the avengers #fanfic

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slutforalastor · 9 months ago

Text

Say It With A Smile, Part 3

Most of the hotel's inhabitants have cleared out of the grand hall, leaving it serenely quiet; even your footsteps are muffled by the plush carpets snaking down the stairwell. The demon behind the bar remains at his post, dutifully drying mugs and drinking glasses laid out across the counter. His eyes are on the cloth, but his mind is on something else, his smooth, deep voice humming out a low tune. He's so preoccupied that he doesn't notice you until you sit down at a stool a little ways down from him. "Ah, sorry, I didn't expect anyone down this late. Just finishing up. Looking for a drink?"

You apologize for interrupting him, and say that you're more in the market for food than drink.

"Hey, keep those 'sorry's for someone who really deserves an apology. Company's always better when you're working, anyhow. I'm not much of a cook, but I'm sure I can scrounge up something for you. You have any… particularities I should know about?"

You tell him your preferences, and after a moment's thought, he busies himself with the rudimentary kitchen tools in the area behind the bar. While he's busy seasoning and sautéing, he multitasks with continued conversation. "So, what brought you here?"

"I got hit by a bus."

"What, was the bus on the way to the Hotel? Oh, you thought I meant what brought you to Hell." He laughs to himself, giving a little shake of his head. "Nah, I meant what brings you to the Hotel."

"I guess… I was just looking for someplace safe. It seems like everyone treats Hell like a contest they're going to win. I don't want to win anything, I just want to try to enjoy whatever time I've got left. I wasn't ever sure if there was something after death, but I'm not going to accept it being as hard as life up there was."

Husk gives you an approving nod, taking a moment to focus on the preparation. Once he's got your food to a simmer, the wafting scent making your stomach rattle with hunger, he's back in the conversation. "Well said. I think you're going to fit in just fine, then. Had much of a chance to meet anyone besides me?"

"That tall red demon showed me around. He's… very interesting."

Magnetic is a better way to describe him. It's difficult to explain his aura, but its polarity seems fine-tuned to your frequency, the kind of thing that can needle its way past the boundaries you'd spent a lifetime defining. The kind of thing that can pull you in from any distance.

Husk has different ideas, if the bristling of his fur at the mention of Alastor is any indication. "Listen, kid, you seem like a decent person, so let me tell you something: Alastor doesn't have many uses for decent people. The ones he does are things you don't want to be involved in. Sure, he'll be polite and charming, but the moment you do anything to cross him, or make him think you've got a trick up your sleeve, you'll have bought your ticket out of this afterlife, and even gamblers know better than to bet on a third chance."

You're a little confused. You can easily believe that he's an eccentric, maybe even with a violent streak, but it seems like all you'd have to do is just stay on his good side. Would he be here if he didn't have some restraint?

"Yeah, restraint's something he's gotten real good at. And manipulation's another. Don't think you'll be an exception; even the Princess ain't immune to him." Husk passes you a steaming plate of food, the most perfect-looking dive-bar fare this side of the Pentagram to your ravenous eyes. You're already digging in when he finishes his thought. "Just… watch your step around him, okay? You said Hell feels like a contest, and let me tell you, no one's more of a sore loser than him. And if he asks you to make a deal, give it some thought until the thought is that you shouldn't do it. Hell's a bad place to bring regrets."

Your mouth's too full to respond, so all you can do is think. Husk wouldn't have much to gain from starting drama, but the impression he gave of Alastor wasn't quite the one you'd gotten. But he had definitely known him for longer than you did. Then again, what was he still doing here if he was such a problem? Maybe you'd do well to just keep your guard up, maybe take both demon's words with a grain of salt. Pushing your cleaned plate back towards the bar's side, you thank Husk for the meal.

"Anytime, kid. And seriously, keep what I said in mind."

You will. But something Alastor said is in your mind as well. The haze you used to construct your space was very helpful for the basics, but it wouldn't make for very good sheets or pillows. In short, you have need of something, and his radio tower isn't much of a walk.

***

The stairs to Alastor's tower wait at the end of a lonely hallway, the atmosphere promptly changing from an upscale, classy getaway to a time capsule that makes you feel more like you're in a museum than anything else. The stairwell, alight with dramatic shadows from the gaslamps lining the walls, is a winding spiral hewn from wood. The steps are wide and low, angular like the smile of the demon they convey you to. Every inch of the walls not occupied by a lamp is papered with flyers for nickelodeon showings, radio host appearances, and antique receiver accessories, the air tinged with the ozone smell of electric power scorching the air around it. At the top, his door, locked with a peculiar mechanism mimicking the tunings knobs of old-fashioned radios, waited. A telephone handset was mounted to the door, the old-fashioned kind that had a separate piece for listening attached to the box, and a receiver for speaking into.

There isn't really a need to use it, though, because the door is ever so slightly ajar. You knock on it, the force enough to widen the gap a bit. Your wandering eye catches a glimpse of him in the room beyond; his waistcoat is draped across a chair that's settled before a massive broadcasting console, the glass beyond offering little more in your limited view than the deep maroon sky of Hell. Far more eyecatching, though, is the host of your hotel, sat on the edge of the bed with the cleaning demon from before winding a bandage around his midsection. His body is stitched with scars, the taupe tissue standing out against his beige skin. His head is down, but his eyes still give a soft glow, enough for you to see that even now, that grin remains.

You reel back, realizing you might be seeing more than you should. The rush of a shadow moving through ether confirms your fear, the Radio Demon rising to his full height inches from your face, his narrowed brow conveying what his sneer does not allow him to. "I heard your knock, little fawn. And I heard your heart speed up, like you know you're being hunted." His ears twitch, a raised hand crashing into the wall a hair's breadth away from your head, the rest of his body boxing you in. "You weren't supposed to see that, you know."

You don't know why. He's just getting an injury bandaged.

"No one should be able to hurt me. No one should be able to weaken me. No one can know." The static that punctuates every syllable is growing sharper, the crackling increasing in frequency. His antlers are growing steadily, his limbs beginning to contort, stretching thinner. For a moment that spans the length of a nightmare, you feel your imminent death at the end of his lengthening claws. He breathes deep, inhaling the fear coursing down your body. Then, mercifully, he recedes. His body settles back to something more familiar, his scorn softening. "But you… You're a stranger, aren't you? You're not even enough of a somebody to be a has-been. You're no threat to me, are you little fawn?"

Quivering in residual fear, you shake your head no, of course not, you're a nobody. He doesn't even know your name.

"I don't! Well, how very rude of me. To make it up to you, why don't you join me for tea? There's something I think I'd like to discuss with you."

With a widening smile and a firm hand on your back, he guides you into his chamber, the door behind you shutting firmly.

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

Also on AO3! | Part 1 | Part 2 |

(I want to thank everyone for reading, liking, reblogging, etc. This is the most attention I think I've ever gotten for my writing and it does wonders for the self esteem. I'm grateful ❤️)

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #radio demon #radio demon x reader #radio demon x you #hazbin hotel

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