#is to pop the kettle on and have a seat love

[euripidestrousers]

Remus gives off a real 'raised by his nan' vibe .

The nan friend if you will

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - My Fawn & My Shadow: Epilogue

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

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Dear Hoteliers,

Helluva Boss events take place after Apology Tour and after the most recent Helluva Boss short “Mission 4: Chupacabra.”

<3 Stay smutty

My Fawn & My Shadow: Epilogue

Content Warning: Self Harm, abuse, mental health, mentions of suicide

Just Outside Levittown, Envy

Tom Trench: “Five years after 'The Massacre,' V Tower is finally being rebuilt!”

Katie Killjoy: “That’s right, Tom! The Sins of Lust and Gluttony purchased a 50/50 share of the building three years ago, but after a long legal battle with Lucifer Morningstar, reconstruction can finally begin!”

Tom: “Today marks a new era between Hell Natives and Human Sinners after the Sins won the right to purchase property and run business within the once forbidden Circle! What does this mean for the travel ban on the other Rings? What does this mean for the economy now that Hell Natives can run and own businesses within the Pride Ring? And who will soothe the King’s butt after it was kicked in court?“

Katie: “In other news, Massacre memorials are set to begin tonight…”

You clicked the radio off.

Has it truly been five years already?

Vox.

Velvette.

Crim.

The hundreds of Souls who all got in the way.

Carmilla who tried to stop you but died trying.

The THOUSANDS of Souls after who died for no reason.

Massacred.

Charlie tried to intervene, but Vaggie wouldn’t let her near you.

Rosie focused on getting everyone away from you.

Lucifer was hurt but thankfully lived.

In the end it was Angel who stopped you. Angel who knew the truth. Angel who told you to think of the baby…

Then it was Husk who carried you through the portal to this safe house where you still remained.

The Entertainment District had been leveled by the time you had finished.

And the red staining your fingers still hadn’t faded, no matter how hard you scrubbed.

It was the least you deserved.

Eve has been quiet since then, popping up for short moments of conversation and then disappearing. It’s almost as if all the power used to take out half of Pentagram City had drained her batteries.

Or…

Perhaps she had known that, after the destruction, you had truly given up.

No more Endgame. No more games in general. No schemes or plans or revenge.

You simply just wanted to be.

You would have ended it all had you not had a reason to go on.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Turning off the faucet, you start the kettle and head for the door.

“Tomatuh!” Rosie pressed a kiss to your cheek, her arms filled with supplies she often brought along despite your protests. Mostly food but sometimes gifts - clothes she made herself.

“Shh,” you took the goods from her. “You’re early, she’s still asleep.”

Rosie hesitated in the doorway.

“Is something wrong?”

“Well,” Rosie adjusted her gloves.

Something was wrong.

“Tomatuh, you know I love you and that little tyke.”

You raised an eyebrow. “But…?”

“Can I come in yet or what?” Vaggie stepped into the kitchen.

You grit your teeth. “Rosie!”

“Hey!” The moth demon stepped in front of the Overlord. Still the warrior she was created to be. “Rosie forbade me from coming but I pushed myself through your stupid portal anyway!”

“That portal,” You held your ground, trying to look as formidable as possible - which admittedly was more pathetic than you assumed given the state of your health. “Is for Rosie only. It is not to be used for gallivanting across the Rings!”

No one was allowed here save for Rosie. The portal opened at the same time everyday - automatic magic she helped you to set up. It opened right on the porch and closed the moment she stepped through.

For Rosie. It was too much of a risk for the others to know your location. They can be captured and they can be interrogated by Heaven. Rosie was a much bigger fish to go after than say someone such as Husk.

“Listen here, asshole! I’m here because Charlie asked me to deliver this personally!” The ex-Exorcist shoved a box into your chest. “The only reason she isn’t here is because she’s at home in our bed balling her eyes out!”

The box…

“Vaggie,” Rosie pulled her back. “That’s enough.”

…it smells like…

No. That can’t be.

“…so ungrateful for everything we did for you!”

“Vagatha, that is enough! Go wait outside.”

The forest after a storm…

“She didn’t mean it.” Rosie grabbed your attention.

Your fingers started to tremble. “Where did this come from?”

Rosie pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Charlie had it boxed up at the Hotel. Apparently they did some fall cleaning with all the new Hotel guests and Angel accidentally unboxed it.”

Oh, Angel.

“Charlie’s been a mess ever since. She insisted that be sent to you right away.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

“I think I’ll take my tea at home today.” Rosie pulled you into a hug. “I love ya, tomatuh. Don’t you ever forget that. Tell the little tyke I’ll bring her somethun’ special tomorruh!”

And then she left.

Leaving you alone with a piece of him.

Oh! What could it be? Eve materialized on your kitchen counter.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. Your entire body and mind froze, completely entranced with the box in your hand.

All of Alastor’s stuff had been boxed up and either moved to his radio tower or to Rosie. You forbade anyone from going to the tower - not that you yourself had returned to it since. Rosie has been there a few times to clean and check on the place but other than that…

“There were only a few things missing…” The package was wrapped in a thick layer of dust. The only evidence that the box had been opened was the few fingerprints around the edges. Angel's fingerprints? Charlie's?

You peeled the tape off carefully, afraid that ripping the box would somehow mare his memory.

"Holy shit," you collapsed over the box and sobbed.

Alastor's coat lay folded inside - the black pinstripe suit jacket he died in. Speckles of golden and red blood crusted the surface, the fabric ripped diagonally across the chest. Atop sat Alastor's microphone, busted in half along the pole.

Something inside your chest snapped as your fingers traced the cut.

“Mourir d’amour, vivre de haine…" You mumbled.

That’s what Alastor had said to you when he died.

Dying for love.

I miss him too. The embodiment of power leans over your shoulder and huffs. Eve was fun for a while, but I agreed with you. Her plans were small and easily fixed. I never even introduced myself to her. Then I met you, and your plans were extraordinary - I didn’t even think of making Heaven destroy itself. Then we met him. She motioned to the jacket. You fell in love with the man, but I’m why you fell in love with his thirst for power and chaos.

You rubbed the tears from your eyes, afraid of crying too loud for fear of waking the toddler in the next room. “I could feel his magic even before we met. That day I came to the Hotel and Sir Pentious attacked, I felt his static moments before he appeared. I always knew before he was going to enter a room and when his shadow was nearby. Others could not. We had a connection long before the deal we made atop his radio tower - a pull I could never quite put my finger on. I've never had that with anyone else, not even Eve. You’re the reason why I could always feel his magic? Why I had access to his static even though I voided the contract? Why I could summon static during the Extermination?”

Oh, no. She waived her hands. I have nothing to do with Soulmates and Magic Bridges.

“Wh-what?” You stammered.

Look I know things but my magic can’t do everything…

“No. Not that. Can you explain the Soulmate part?”

Wait. You didn’t know? Ha! Oh, my God this is rich!

You blinked. “But Angels don’t have Souls…”

She shot you a dumb look, And who told you that?

You shrugged sheepishly, “Dad?”

Ugh! She rubbed her face. How can you be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time?

“Hey!”

Angel’s have Souls, babe. Soulmates share their Souls. One Soul in two bodies.

“But why would Dad make me a Soulmate?”

Answer: he didn’t. He’s a dick. But hear me out. You have been so sad and so alone for so long, do you ever think that maybe you wanted it enough that YOU made it happen. YOU willed it into being? Your upbringing wasn't precisely the picture-perfect happy childhood.

“That’s insane!”

Oh, well. Excuse me. I’m just the Book of Knowledge, I don’t know anything.

“I made Alastor?”

No! Eve threw her hands in the air. You'd shush her but no one else but you could hear her. You made a Soulmate! Fate decided who. Fuck, girl. It took thousands of years to find him, not like the Soul just popped into a body and called it yours. The Soul is made and ripped into two, it’s probably been floating around the Ether waiting for him.

“Oh…” You fisted the lapel of the jacket, finding comfort in the feel of the jacket in your hand.

That’s a compliment. Some people get shit Soulmates. Sounds like Fate was picky with you.

That made you feel a bit better.

Wait.

“Why are you trying to comfort me? You never try to comfort me.”

It’s not comfort, bitch. It’s pity.

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks.”

Eve didn’t disappear. She sat back on the armchair and watched as you folded the jacket into a nice pile on the table. “What?”

The embodiment of power crossed her legs and rested her chin in her hand. Nothing. Just waiting.

“Waiting for what?”

For you to figure it out.

“Figure what…”

Why I'm pitying you with this knowledge.

Whatever...

You grabbed for the pieces of microphone left inside the box but accidentally knocked it off the table instead. The cardboard came crashing down along with the metal. It smacked against the tile, eliciting a wave if green sparks as the microphone came to rest a few feet away.

Holy shit.

… green static.

Oh, shit!

There it is. Eve smiled.

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

That's not possible. Green static was Alastor's magic. Alastor is gone. Therefore, so should his magic.

But if his magic was still here...

Angel’s have Souls, babe. Soulmates share their Souls. One Soul in two bodies.

You looked at your hands.

It wasn't possible.

You grabbed the jacket and held it against your chest, letting Alastor's natural musk drown you in a sea of his memory. Of his hands in your hair. Of his cockeyed smile whenever his true self shined through. Of his laugh, absent of the radio static.

Blue flame lit up your right hand and in your left...

Green.

Holy shit.

“Wait but how do I…?” You spun, preparing a barrage of questions to through at Even, but just as you had figured it out, the embodiment of power disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Bitch.

Eve wasn’t going dormant, she was just ghosting you - literally.

But then again, you already knew where to start.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way to the bedroom.

You practically tripped over yourself as you flipped on the lights. “Mary Marie, it’s time to wake up.”

“Maman?”

“I’m sorry, my fawn, but it’s time to go.” You threw clothes into a bag, along with a few essentials such as a pink bedazzled hair brush and a singing toothbrush that played Verosika Mayday as you brushed.

The small child, previously tucked into her crib for her daily nap, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, “Mais, maman, où allons-nous?”

Flinging the backpack over your shoulder, you wrapped her favorite pink fuzzy blanket around her and pulled her from the crib. “We are going to visit Auntie Rosie.”

“No! My Angel!” She screamed, reaching for the stuffed animal in her crib.

You tucked the black cat into her arms and sped from the room. Perhaps one day you’d explain the irony to her, but today was not that day.

As you ran from the house, child in one arm and jacket and staff in the other, you felt small hands on your cheeks demanding your attention. “Maman, pourquoi es-tu si triste?”

You paused. “What?”

SNAP! The portal to Rosie’s Emporium cracked through the wall of reality.

“Why are you so sad?” She rubbed the tears from your cheeks.

You paused.

Were you still crying?

“I don’t know…”

You did know, but how did you tell your almost five year old that there was a chance - a minuscule chance but still a chance - that her father might still be alive.

And that bringing him back might kill you in the process.

She dug her small hands into your cheeks and forced the edges of your mouth up. “You should smile more, Maman.”

A sob tore its way through your chest.

Mary Marie Hartfelt was born 7lbs and 3oz in a beachside safe house outside of Levittown, Envy. Named for her grandmother on her father’s side, Rosie would tell you that she’s the spitting image of you but that was due large in part to her blonde hair and pale complexion. In reality, you couldn’t look at her and not see her father.

She had the same small tuft of red fur for a tail, which she hated you pulling, and a matching set of ears, which she demanded you scratched every night before bed. Her legs ended in red hooves that she loved when you painted pink - her favorite color - and her eyes…

She had her father’s red irises.

And her father’s temper. God forbid she didn’t get her way - she was a total spitfire. At least she hadn’t sprouted wings, the crawling phase was already too much to bear as a single parent - despite Rosie’s help. Actually the only time she calmed down was when Rosie came over for tea.

Chai - Mary Marie’s favorite.

She had her father’s appetite and her mother’s knack for weaponry. God forbid she get into any weapons unsupervised.

Her magic started showing early - most notably during her terrible twos when she almost burned down the house: electricity. Your blue fire plus her father’s green static gave birth to red electricity.

Thankfully none of the power from the Book of Knowledge seeped into her or impacted the pregnancy in anyway. Either Eve was quite attached to you or you got lucky - really lucky.

Hell have no furry like existence’s most powerful toddler throwing a tantrum.

That was your fault however. After the battle and the Massacre, Heaven was on high alert. Everyone now knew that God was missing and Mikaela Morningstar was a traitor. So, naturally, the story became that you killed God and were on the run.

If only the first part were true…

But you were on the run. Only Rosie knew your location - all communications had to go through her. Which meant you hadn’t seen Husk or Angel in years. They wrote you letters though and you wrote back (Vox was dead but you still wouldn’t risk a phone or television). Mary Marie even drew a few pictures for you to include.

What you didn’t tell her was that you ordered everything burned once they read it.

One day, when everything has calmed down, you and Mary Marie would return home.

Huh, funny how the Hotel was now home in your mind.

“I love you, my fawn.” You tickled her belly, eliciting the cutest giggle before stepping through the portal.

The day hadn't yet come when Mary Marie asked about her father, but you knew one day it would. She had seen parents during your outings and knew of relationships, but she hadn't fully grasped the concept that something was amiss.

Yes, you were sad - a lot - but, unfortunately, it was something the child had come to understand as normal. There were times when her mother would break down crying for no reason or days when she couldn't get out of bed when it was raining. There were songs she refused to listen to on the radio and recipes she'd spend hours in the kitchen trying to perfect: gumbo, Mary Marie was sick of it.

And, no matter what, she always wore her hair in a red hair clip.

Her mother was odd and always a little sad despite her smile but thankfully Mary Marie did not yet have to be burdened with the truth. Where was her father? Why did they always have to wear cloaks when they went outside? Why couldn't they meet any of mother's friends besides Rosie? Why couldn't she play with any of the other children?

“Oh, my stars!” Rosie was curled up on her couch, tea cup in hand, clearly enveloped in some book on her coffee table.

Right. You kicked her out before her daily tea time.

“Auntie!” Mary Marie jumped from your arms. Enveloped in her pink blanket, the tiny tyke jumped into Rosie’s awaiting arms.

“Hello, my sweet.” The Overlord hugged her back.

You threw her bags on the loveseat. “I need a favor.”

Rosie’s look of confusion turned serious, “Okay.”

Mary Marie played with Rosie’s collection of Build-A-Bones while you talked - creating small towers of remains which she proceeded to zap with electricity till they turned to ash.

Told you she was a spitfire.

While you told your tale to Rosie, you watched her look of concern turn to outright denial. “No!”

Mary Marie jumped at the sudden turn in conversation.

“Rosie,” you grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the other room, one eye still on the fawn as she returned to her undead masterpiece. “If there is even a small chance that this could work -.”

“And you die in the process?” She interrupted in a whisper. “You’d be robbing that beautiful child of both her father and mother.”

“I owe it to that child to try. To bring her father back-!”

“Is that what this is truly about, tomatuh? It sounds like you’re doing this for you.”

“Rosie-.”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She put up a hand. “This is irresponsible and based off of knowledge fed to you by her. Remember the last time you let Eve influence you?”

How could you forget? You took out half of Pentagram City.

You stepped back, your teeth clenched in anger. Not at Rosie, you could never get made at Rosie, but she was making it so easy to. “I’m doing this Rosie - with or without your blessing.” You nodded to your child, who was completely unaware of the happenings in the adjacent room. “Look after her, for me. Please?”

She huffed, “If Angel were here, he’d talk some sense into you.”

“Good thing he isn’t.”

Rosie stared you down for a long time, waiting for you to break, but you wouldn’t. You couldn’t.

“You know," she said, placing a hand on your cheek, her pupilless eyes softening. "I think of you like a daughter."

"I know, Rosie."

"I'm supposed to stop you." She smiled sweetly.

"I know."

"I'm not going to."

Your shoulders relaxed. "I know."

Rosie knows how powerful you are. She knew the day you practically fell on top of her that first day in Hell, and she knows now, even with tears in your eyes. She saw your resilience despite the countless days Carmilla tortured you. She knew your past and what you had come to endure. If Rosie truly believed this would kill you, she'd stop you.

Mary Marie had become her granddaughter - she'd never let that child come to harm. She'd never let that child lose a mother, but at the same time, she knew - she knew - that you had to do this.

You have been slowly decaying over the years. Alastor's death had taken its toll.

At the beginning, you couldn’t get out of bed. Save for the morning sickness and to use the bathroom. Rosie kept you alive, kept you fed and clean. If it wasn’t for this woman, who knows where you’d be right now.

Then Mary Marie was born and things got a little better - the days got a little brighter. Yet you still found yourself crying in the kitchen whenever jazz came on on the radio. Or felt your heart skip a beat whenever a man in a dark suit and fedora walked past. Or felt that you couldn’t go outside for days after it rained for fear of it smelling too much like him.

You could barely maintain weight as you found it hard to eat. Your muscle was long gone and eyes permanently sunken from the years of crying.

Everything felt heavier. The world felt heavier.

But you kept yourself going, your only function to be a mother, to keep the last bit of Alastor alive.

Yet, Mary Marie was a walking memory of him: a living ghost. Which made it all the easier to love her but all the harder to stay strong.

The Overlord dropped her guard. “If you somehow get your hands on the Grimoire to do this, and that is a big ‘if,’ be safe. If not for my sake, then for hers."

You beamed, the first time you had truly smiled about something that didn’t regard Mary Marie in years. “Thank you, Rosie!” You pulled her into a hug. “I need one more thing before I go.”

After the battle atop V Tower, Lucifer had taken your cloak - the one inscribed in Leviathan. At some point over the years, your brother didn’t know what to do with it, but he certainly didn’t want to keep it. Not after the destruction you caused at the Massacre. The cloak - along with your things at the Hotel that the Hotel Natives helped clear out - were sent to Rosie. You reclaimed most of it for your beach house in Envy, but what you didn’t use Rosie stored for you.

Including the infamous cloak which started all your Shadow Overlord business.

After a quick kiss for Mary Marie and a hug ensuring you’d be right back, you snapped a portal to visit an old friend.

“Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” The imp dove behind his desk. “There’s a front door for a fucking reason people!”

The office was empty, save for Blitz sulking in his chair while he cleaned some sort of jewel on his desk. Where the others were at you didn’t know but were thankful for it. Normally this office was chaos and you really didn’t want that right now.

“Hello Blitz,” you pulled back the hood.

“Whaaaaaaaaat?” The imp’s jaw fell.

“I need the book.” Straight to the point.

His eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead or something?” Blitz slowly climbed back into his chair.

Fuck, why did it smell like a barnyard in here?

“Not quite,” you took a seat.

When was the last time you did something like this? The last time you played the role of Shadow Overlord? When was the last time you donned this dusty cloak, sat lax in a chair, and demanded something of a Soul so nonchalantly as if it wasn’t important at all?

Did you miss those days?

“I need the Grimoire,” you repeated.

Blitz did not like the lack of explanation that you were giving him. His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

You clenched your fist beneath your cloak. That’s when you noticed the inter-dimensional gem sitting atop the table.

He doesn’t have it.

“How is Stolas these days?” You asked, running a finger across his desk.

The imp slowly pulled the gem back. You could literally portal across dimensions, if the imp thinks you seek a little trinket from Asmodeus then he wasn’t as smart as you gave him credit for.

“You know, bitch. You can’t just show up here making demands after all these years and expect us to jump when you say how high!” He jutted a finger out in your direction.

This was going swimmingly.

You stood. “It was so nice to see you again, Blitzy.”

“Fuck you, Angel bitch!” He flipped you off as you stepped through the portal.

Blitz is clearly pissed about something. Given that he now had an inter-dimensional gem and not the Grimoire, you were about to find out why as you knocked on the door of its owner.

“Gerald, if my dad Hell Eats one more pint of ice cream, just cancel the fuckin’-. Oh.”

Octavia answered the door.

You pulled back your hood just a touch and waived awkwardly, “Hey.”

And then she slammed the door in your face.

“Octavia, wait!” You practically jumped on the door, panic building in your chest. “Please! I need your help!”

Silence and then, “You left me!”

You blinked. What is she talking about?

“You dropped me off after the hospital and you left! I never saw you again!”

Oh… She means after Stolas told you off and forbade you from seeing her again.

“Your dad -!”

“I know what my dad said!”

“Then you know -!”

“Who cares what my dad said, that isn’t the point! I thought you were my friend, but it turns out you’re just like everyone else!” You heard feet stomping away.

Shit. Leaning against the door, you slowly sank to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to be left behind too.”

Great. Now what are you going to do?

You pulled the chain from beneath your shirt and held it between your fingers. Eve was right, Alastor was an emerald man.

Wrapped in gold as if rays of the sun, was a green emerald ring. You had thought it would be a ruby or a diamond, but green represented Alastor’s magic and that felt more suiting.

“I miss you so much it hurts.” You choked.

It had taken exactly one year before you could open the leather box Alastor left behind. You felt so guilty doing so, knowing it would never be his hand which placed it upon your finger. So, you never put it on, but you couldn’t let it go either. Thus, here it sat, hooked around a chain hanging over your heart.

“Octavia, is that my ice cream?”

SLAM!

The back of your head smacked tile as the door swung open.

“Oh, my,” A blurry Stolas put a hand to his lips.

“Hey, Stolas,” You grunted.

“Thestral?” Then his face fell flat. “Mikaela Morningstar. I thought I told you -“

“Wait!” You held your hands up. “I need your help. Please, just hear me out!”

The Prince took a look around, noticing the eyes stopping in the street to stare. “Come inside.”

One cup of tea and an ice pack later…

“You know, I don’t always harbor fugitives in my home.” The Prince stood astutely, one pinky feather out as he sipped from the fine china.

“I’m not looking for you to hide me.” You ignored the tea, the bubbles of anxiety in your chest too much to handle right now. “I’m looking to borrow the Grimoire.”

Stolas did not look surprised.

And then you explained why.

“… I loved him and he’s gone. If you had a chance to save someone you loved, wouldn’t you?”

Stolas eyed you, “And you’d be willing to die for him?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“This goes against everything the Goetia stands for.”

“I know.”

“Everything I’m supposed to represent.”

“I know.”

“Why are you asking me and not trying to steal it?”

You huffed. “I’m tired, Stolas. I’m so very tired.”

So tired your bones felt like led.

The Prince sighed. “I’ve always wanted that.” He placed the cup down gently. “I just... want someone to care, if I stay or go. I want someone to want me. To want to see me. To hold me. To look at me and think 'You're the only one I want! I desire to hold you and talk to you, and never let you feel so... alone…”

Ah, now you understood.

You placed a hand atop his wing. “I’m sorry about Blitz.”

And he lay his other atop yours. “Follow me.”

____________________________________________

You landed atop the balcony, a layer of dust parting in your wake.

The metal was absent of any signs of what took place here. You had Rosie to thank for that. She came by and cleaned up everything after…

His stuff was still here, but the curtains were drawn so you didn’t have to see any of it. You might break down again if you did.

Nothing’s changed. Eve materialized in a puff of black smoke wearing the same clothes she died in. The same clothes you killed her in.

You didn’t let your mind dwell on it too long. “Let’s get started.”

You drew the Circle of Rebirth in the same spot Alastor died - courtesy of Stolas' Grimoire. The Circle is a form of ancient and forbidden magic, guarded by the Goetia but not forgotten entirely. You vaguely remember hearing rumors of it from a time you could no longer remember.

Different from a Summoning Circle - which knew the recipient’s Soul location - or a Trapping Circle - which trapped beings of other planes within it (the same Circle Eve used to trap you in the airplane hanger a millennia ago), a Circle of Rebirth was meant to trap a dying Soul’s fragments so one could piece them back together.

Technically, that meant the person had to die while in the circle for it to work.

Do you get where I am going with this?

You stood, hand covered in red chalk, and talked with Eve as you finished up the final touches. “So, a Soulmate is of one Soul in two bodies. That means Alastor’s Soul did not fade when he died. I’m carrying it.”

But it’s also technically yours. Eve sat back against the railing, a smug look on her face.

“So, we do what I did accidentally all those years ago. We rip my Soul in half.”

I like it! Eve practically cheered.

And if it doesn’t work then you die… Cool. Okay. No stress at all.

You grabbed Alastor’s jacket and cane, and placed it on your lap as you sat at the center of the Circle.

Eve bent over so she was eye level with you. Are you ready to die?

You died five years ago when Alastor took that bullet for you…

“If I die, what happens to you?” You lifted a brow.

Hmmm, Eve thought a moment. There’s this adorable little product of power and chaos I’ve been dying to play with.

You saw red. “Eve!”

But before you had a chance to lunge, Eve melted into a mass of ink and began the spell.

A hurricane erupted around you, whipping your hair about your face and blinding you from the world.

It exploded into the sky, bringing with it lightning and rain. A cacophony of torrential pain fell upon you as the rain pelted your skin and the wind tore at your flesh.

It felt as if your entire being, every molecular connection, was slowly being ripped in half. Green and blue light exploded from your scar as your Soul slowly seeped out from your form.

Eyes filled with burning tears, you watched as the specks of green slowly floated away and collected into a solid mass before your eyes.

The mass slowly took shape, giving birth to arms and legs…

Power is of two kinds…

...and tall ears…

One is obtained by fear…

Details set in. Alastor’s face took form in a hue of green. His eyes… His lips…

And the other by love…

“Alastor?” You screamed over the wind. You screamed through the pain.

Power derived from love…

And then the ink set in. From the wind itself the liquid trailed into the blue, swirling about as if oil in water.

The demon smiled.

…is a thousand times more powerful than fear.

And then everything exploded.

____________________________________________

As if submerged in a river of silk, your body slipped away.

No sights. No sounds. No touch.

You were the world, and the world was nothing. Everything existed all at once and yet not at all.

You were the absence of existence, yet you continued to exist. Without form and body, you were consciousness as its birth and end.

You were dying.

If you had told yourself at the beginning of time that this is where you would end up, you would have said to yourself that you were nuts.

Before everything, you were a soldier. A general. A physical representation of God’s Will.

And everything was perfect.

Carry out missions. Train. Report. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Existence was simple and predictable, but that's what you liked about it.

Then the beatings began.

You questioned it at first. Why did God only ever call you to his office alone? Why were you the only Angel with bruises and marks not born from war?

Why was he so angry?

Then the answer became apparent because he told you.

Everything that went wrong in his life was your fault.

YOUR FAULT.

Even if it had nothing to do with you or your missions… It was your fault.

Then you tried to control the uncontrollable in order to lessen the beatings.

Which just made things worse.

Because it was your fault.

You kept it hidden because you were ordered to. But also because it would have been embarrassing.

How could God’s General, leader of his armies and vanquisher of the Leviathans not even protect herself?

Things changed; you rebelled and ran away with Eve, thinking that was the fix you needed. You thought you had moved on. You thought you had healed. But trauma is a scar that never heals, doomed to rip open again and again.

There might have come a day when you had moved on. When God was cold and dead beneath your feet, and everyone who let this happen had been destroyed or long gone by the time you broke down Heaven’s Gate.

That was the plan at least.

Power and chaos and revenge… That was what was missing from your mantra: revenge.

But, here you are: a pesky story of revenge that went nowhere.

And now you’re dead.

And it’s all your fault.

You wonder what would have happened had you not met Alastor. Had you shown up to the Hotel that day and he was woefully absent from the cast, still in Heaven with Lilith - or if Lilith had never recruited the Overlord to begin with.

You wouldn't have Mary Marie...

Wait, who is Mary Marie?

You felt your thoughts starting to slip away.

Dying is confusing.

But painless.

The end of existence began creeping in, growing ever closer as if tidal waves on either side of you.

Thankfully, painless.

And you were okay with that.

"Not so fast, my doe."

____________________________________________

In an explosion of greens and blues, you were flung back. Your head hit the wall of glass with a loud crack, and your body scorched from the heat as the explosion dissipated.

The thunder ceased. The rain dried. The wind slowed.

Nothing but the silence of death filled your ears - is what you thought, anyway, but death had been painless. This was not death.

"Fuck," you groaned. The scar across your front burned as you sat up. The skin beneath your shirt felt fragile as if newly minted during the moments of your... hallucination?

And when the world stopped spinning, you froze.

A body lay curled in the fetal position, directly at the center of the Circle of Rebirth. Green steam floated off the figure, now wrapped in the black jacket he died in. In his hands, he held a microphone he often used as a cane, freshly made whole once more.

The demon groaned as words flew across his bare skin.

Holy shit.

"Alastor?" Hesitantly, you crawled to the Circle.

An ear popped up, turning in your direction as you stopped just at the edge.

"Alastor Hartfelt?" You reached slowly for his shoulder.

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

A sob tore through your chest. "It's me. It's..."

"My doe."

The next thing you know, you had arms wrapped around you and warm lips on your own. You sobbed into his mouth, the same familiar mouth belonging to the demon you loved.

His hands were soft as they cupped your cheeks, as the scent of the forest after a rainstorm filled your nose. His hair curled around your fingers, knotting itself as you plunged them deeper.

Alastor pulled you into his lap. Cocooning you in his warmth. He was always so warm...

The demon broke the kiss, catching his breath as he said, "Shed not tears for me, my doe."

Red irises glinted with tears of their own. A green "X" was now present between his eyes were the bullet once hit.

"You left me," you sobbed. Rivers of woe flooded down your face and soaked into his gloves.

"I did not." He rested his forehead on yours. The demon breathed, simply enjoying the mere presence of you. "I never left. I have been here the entire time."

You blinked. "What?"

"I have held you long into the night when you could not sleep and guarded you when you did. I was the shoulder you cried on when you needed to and dried your tears when you were done. I caught you when you crumbled and helped you find your feet once more. I ensured no harm ever came to you and no enemy ever found you." Alastor dried the tears on your cheeks.

"I have stood by your side every moment since that day." He went for the chain around your neck and broke it in two.

"I promised you I would never leave, and I did not. I have been at your side for the past five years." He unhooked the ring, and you watched as he slipped it on your finger. "You just didn't know it." The demon pressed a kiss to your hand. “Your personal guardian angel.”

Life flooded back into your body. "Alastor!" You flung your arms around the demon, burying your face in his jacket as you sobbed.

"I love you, my doe." He held you tight.

You shook your head, "Al, I am so sorry. It's all my..."

"Stop," He held your face in his hands, his claws brushing your cheeks. "Saving you was my choice, and I'd do it again, given the chance. Your death is mine to claim, remember?"

You chuckled. How ridiculous that sounded, given the current circumstances. "How could I forget?"

Pressing another kiss to your cheek, he chuckled.

God, you missed that sound.

With his hand in yours, you watched the words from the Book of Knowledge flow from your skin into his. "How is this possible?"

Blue fire erupted along your fingers, calling to his green static.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Alastor's heart.

"My Soulmate." The demon's purr filled your chest with warmth. "That explains everything."

"I always thought it was an old wives' tale, something you told children at night before bed." You watched the green static dance across your arm, bending and moving at your will.

And the ink. The ink flowed along Alastor's jacket as if it were his own.

Long ago, you killed the Second Lady because she had tied her Soul with the power from the Book of Knowledge, thus tying it to yours. By splitting it in half, the two of you now share it, along with your original magic.

Power and chaos and love...

"Thankfully not." Alastor was solid beneath your touch. His breath filled your lungs with new life. His magic tore the weight from your bones. His heartbeat synced with yours and willed it back to full strength.

You felt reborn.

Al brushed the hair from your face, the warmth from his breath hot on your skin.

Alive. Alive. Alive. Your body chanted.

Alastor was alive.

The demon cupped your cheeks and tilted your face up to his. "Now, where is she?"

You scrunched your nose, "Who?"

The demon smile went cockeyed - a soft, toothless grin.

"My daughter."

And then the Radio Demon kissed his Shadow, marking the beginning of a very long afterlife together.

To power, chaos, and love, dear readers… 

Thanks for reading, Hoteliers <3

-> Afterword

Tagged Hoteliers:

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick @cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @sawi1987 @mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah @diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta @reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages @chibistar45 @rapunzelbro @stephydearestxo

[daisies-daydreams]

Hello, I love your work and I wanted to request one. Were the reader is on a mission with 141+könig. And ghost gets jealous because könig likes her. But ghost wants her all to himself so he makes sure her scream his name. Where everyone can hear who she's belongs to. (Hopefully this makes sense and thank you for taking the time to read my request).❤️

I Wanna Be Yours (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader) Pt. 1

Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Swearing, Jealous!König, Jealous!/Possessive!Ghost, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie, Implied Voyeurism Word Count: 3.9k+

A/N: Hello! 🤗 Thank you so much for your request! I've been thinking of writing more jealous!COD for a while. I apologize this took me longer than normal to write. Reader’s call sign is "Teddy".

Song Rec: I Wanna Be Yours (Arctic Monkeys)

Part 2 (18+)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Dusk hung over the small Norwegian safehouse, a blanket of snow resting over the crests of the valley. You, Ghost, Soap and a collaborative operator with 141, König, were lounging in the living area. The lieutenant's body ached, his muscles beaten and raw with bruises. Ghost grunted as he stretched out his sore limbs and cracked his neck. He smiled when he watched your jaw drop.

"Damn, Lt. Got a Rice Crispy stuck in there?" you teased. Ghost's shoulders raised with a silent laugh.

"You're quite the cheeky little thing, you know that?" he huffed as he pointed at you. You sighed.

"Only for you," you swooned while batting your lashes dramatically. Soap grinned knowingly while König observed you carefully. Ghost eyed the giant man. Though polite and often reserved, the lieutenant couldn't help but notice the Austrian’s eyes lingering on you from time to time. The thought made his skin crawl ever so slightly. You stood up and popped your back before walking into the small kitchenette area.

"I don't know about you all, but I'm in the mood for some hot chocolate. You boys want some?" you asked, your voice sweet and dripping with honey.

"Always," Soap said.

“Yes,” Ghost replied.

“Ja, danke,” König said with a nod. Ghost and König glanced at each other, then back at you. Soap rose from his chair, a grunt escaping from him as his hand gripped his ribs.

"Be right back. Need to see a man about a dog," he said. Your laugh reverberated across the walls as you flicked on the stove.

"Thanks for giving us that vital information," you chuckled.

"Anytime!" Soap called back. He eyed Ghost before making his way to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Ghost turned his attention back to you. König’s made use of his long legs and came to your side as soon as Ghost rose from his seat. The lieutenant heard a clear 'pop' when he clenched his jaw. You grinned as König grabbed the hot chocolate powder and handed it to you. His fingers slipped over yours carefully.

“Thank you,” you smiled. König nodded, scratching the back of his head.

“Of course, Katzchen,” he cooed. Ghost felt the sting hit him again, the venom seeping straight into his bones. He caught König glaring at him, the silence saying everything.

“Back off”

You hummed as you filled the kettle with water then placed it on the stove. Ghost sighed, his eyes never leaving König’s massive form as he made his way into the kitchen. He opened another cabinet.

“Looking for something, Lt.?” you asked. His eyes flicked over to you.

“I just like my hot chocolate with milk. Thought they'd have the powdered kind here," he replied before shutting the cabinet door with a shrug. You nodded. The water inside the kettle began to hum and bubble.

“I think it's better with milk, too,” you agreed. Ghost smiled beneath his mask. König stepped closer, looming over you.

“I enjoy it that way as well,” he added. He and Ghost locked eyes again, holding their stare as you were focused on trying to get the cups from the cabinet above you. Ghost stepped forward, cutting the other man off. His hand braced your upper back as he reached up, grabbing four cups. You blushed as he brought them down onto the counter.

“Thank you,” you said softly, averting his gaze. Ghost nodded, his rough hand still glued to your back.

“Welcome, Teddy,” he lilted, making sure to place a gentle emphasis on your call sign. He grinned beneath his mask as he looked up at the towering man. König seemed more tense, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He slowly slid his hand off of you, letting it trail down before slipping his palm off your hip. Their eyes never left each other as you continued to hum.

"It sure is a cold night," König commented. You nodded. Ghost raised a brow. "I'm glad you're helping us warm up a little, Katzchen," the man continued. Your smile faltered slightly, taken aback by his words.

"Oh, it's not big deal," you waved. Ghost felt all of his muscles tense as König leaned down to your ear, whispering loudly enough for him to hear.

"Would it be alright if I helped you warm up some more after this?" he muttered. The kettle began to steam and whistle, the noise piercing through the kitchen. Ghost's eyes widened, as did yours. Your mouth snapped open, face flushing deeply as you failed to form words. Ghost suddenly found his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to his chest.

"That's enough," he snarled. The door to the bathroom swung open. Soap stepped out and raising his brows when all three heads turned sharply towards him.

"Did I come at a bad time?" he asked half-jokingly. You closed your mouth before turning back to the kettle, setting it down on a mat. Ghost's hand slipped away from your shoulder as he eyed the towering man near him. König raised his chin up before slipping towards you.

“I apologize for my forwardness, Schatz," he murmured.

"Bullshit," Ghost hissed internally. Your shoulders tightened as you poured and mixed the drinks. Your lips remained sealed as he cleared his throat.

"I suppose the stress from today is getting to my head," he shrugged. Your eyes scanned him carefully as you set the spoon aside.

"It's alright, Kö. I think that mission did a number on all of us," you stated. He nodded, taking two of the cups into his large hands.

"Here, let me help,” he soothed. You smiled.

“You won't hear any complaints from me,” you shrugged. König purred before making his way to the table. You trotted behind him, leaving Ghost to follow you. Soap was already seated at the table, drumming on the nicked, wooden surface. His eyes brightened when you handed him a cup.

“Ah, somethin’ to distract me from these old, aching bones,” Soap hummed before blowing on his drink.

“You’re not that old,” you teased. Soap scoffed.

“What do you mean by 'that', hm?” he quipped. Both of you narrowed your eyes before snickering. Ghost raised his mask above his lips and lifted the rim of the cup to his mouth. He caught you eyeing him as he swallowed the drink slowly. All of you made small talk, though he kept his eye on König from time to time. Your drinks were slowly drained as the sun finally dipped past the horizon, a quiet darkness settling over the frigid valley.

“Did you guys take a shower yet?” you asked. Ghost hummed as he pulled his mask back down. König scratched his chin.

“I don't believe we have,” he sighed. Both of the men were unflinchingly resolved to remain in their chairs. You looked back and forth between them.

“Well don’t trip over each other,” you snorted. Ghost would’ve chuckled, but his heart felt like it was sinking into the hot pit of his stomach. König slightly shook the table with how furiously he was bouncing his leg. The silence was deafening, tension so thick one could cut it with a knife. Ghost cracked his neck again, his fists tightening on the table. König ceased bouncing his leg. The lieutenant felt a small burst of triumph when the other man slowly rose to his feet.

“I’ll be back,” the man murmured lowly, his hand brushing across your shoulder as he passed by. Ghost gripped his cup, nearly crushing it in his hand. Soap yawned, stopping himself before he stretched his arms above his head.

“Well, as fun as this evening's been, I think I’ll turn in for the night,” the Scotsman sighed. He said goodnight to both of you before walking down the hall. A heavy silence settled in the kitchen. You cleared your throat.

“I guess I’ll head to bed, too,” you said. Ghost nodded, helping you wash and dry the empty cups. He slid the last one back into the cabinet, closing it quickly. Your eyes were soft and cheeks dusted with pink as he looked down at you. He cocked his head to the side.

“You okay, kid?” Ghost asked. You parted your lips then closed them. His breath hitched as you came closer. You were silent, eyes averting his steady gaze. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s alright. You can-“ he was cut off when you swiftly lifted his mask and smashed your lips onto his. He grunted, his hands falling to your hips as he leaned into the kiss. Your eyes popped open before you backed away, your hands pressing against his chest. Your entire face was beet red as you opened your mouth.

“Shit. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ It was his turn to cut you off, his mouth swallowing yours in a tender embrace. You moaned softly, letting him dip his head to deepen the kiss. Your mouths melted together, time stopping as you held each other close. You gasped for air when both of you pulled back. His chest rose and fell, heart threatening to burst. He cupped your cheek with his hand as he leaned to your ear.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, yeah?” he whispered.

You nodded wholeheartedly, taking Ghost's gloved hand. He chuckled as you led him into your bare room. You nearly jumped when Ghost quickly slammed and locked the door. His head was spinning, heart thrumming as he turned back to you. You stood nearby, shifting your thighs together as you looked up at him with blown pupils. His cock twitched as he watched you writhe with heated arousal. He exhaled through his nose as he stepped forward, cupping your chin beneath his hand. He stroked your soft face before closing his eyes and diving down.

Your lips interlaced as you hooked your arms around his thick neck. His dog tags jangled as he sighed. Ghost’s hands came down to your waist, his palms resting on your hips. You gasped when he licked small, warm strokes near your mouth. He felt you smile as you parted your lips. He groaned as he plunged his tongue into your sweet mouth, the taste of sweet chocolate still strong on both of your tongues. Your tongue danced with his as you backed up, taking him with you. Your back gently landed on the wall. It felt like an eternity before Ghost pulled away. The crisp air filled his lungs as he gazed at you half-lidded. You smiled up at him, your hands smoothing over his shoulders.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he muttered. Your eyes widened.

“Really?” you blinked. He nodded, his lips wet with a mixture of your saliva and his. You jumped up and captured his lips again. His cock strained in his pants as you practically devoured his lips. Ghost loved how large your pupils were as you looked up at him.

“Me too,” you confessed with a wide, coquettish grin. He swallowed a lump in his throat, not knowing how much longer he’d last.

“Teddy-(Y/N),” he faltered. You held your breath, your breasts pushed out before him. His words were at the cusp of his lips, just there. He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck, I just...” Ghost finally snapped, pinning you to the wall. You gasped, your hands gripping his taut muscles as he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck, his hands trailing up and down your sides. You squealed when his thigh fell between your legs. Ghost grunted as you bucked your hips upward, moaning at the friction.

“I’m yours, Ghost. I wanna be yours,” you keened as his tongue lathed across your neck. Ghost bit over your pulse before pulling his leg back.

“Call me Simon,” he husked lowly. You nodded, brows knitted together as his hands slid beneath your shirt. He squeezed your plush tits, making you sigh.

“Simon,” you breathed. Goosebumps broke out across his skin when his name left your soft lips. Ghost hummed as he kneaded your breasts, his lips back to sucking dark spots across your pulse. You leaned into his touch, your thighs clenching together as he massaged your chest. He suddenly pulled away, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

“What’s wrong?” you frowned. Ghost licked his lips, his mind drowning in a thick pool of arousal. You squeaked as he grabbed your hips, squeezing them harshly.

"I just...fuck," he growled, his hips jutting forward. Ghost was never one who was renowned for verbally expressing his every whim. Your cheeks were nearly blood red as a guttural moan erupted from your throat. "I just can't hold back anymore, lovie," Ghost spoke, his lips dancing over your ear as he rutted into your clothed eat. You gasped and gripped his shoulders. "You don't have to if you don't want, but-" You leaned up and bit his bottom lip. He grunted as you rolled your hips into his hard length. His fingers dug into your waist as he met your pace.

"I wouldn't want anything more right now," you keened. He groaned as he grabbed your lips with his, his tongue back to exploring your sweet mouth. He felt your pulse race as he guided you towards the bed. You backed away, a glint in your eye as you rolled your shirt over your head. He drooled at the sight of your tits bouncing down. He snatched your wrists just as you grabbed the top of your pants.

"May I?" he asked. You bit your lip and nodded, gazing down at him with drunk, half-lidded eyes. He dipped his head down, capturing one of your breasts in between his puckering lips. You mewled as he took one of your nipples between his teeth. Ghost loved how you arched your back when his other hand came up to tweak your free nipple. He lapped at your areola, flicking it with his warm tongue.

Your hand came up, bracing the back of his head. He groaned as he tugged at your pants and panties. You wiggled your hips, helping him pull them down before stepping out of them. Ghost continued to suckle on your plump breast while you fell back onto the bed, carrying him with you. He smiled, his mouth coming off your tit with a wet 'pop'.

“You doin' okay, love?” Ghost asked. You licked your lips.

"Y-Yes," you sucked in a sharp breath as he didn't wait a millisecond before switching over to your other mound. You whined as you raised your hips, bucking them into nothing. He made a small noise before caressing his hand down your abdomen, landing just above your pussy.

"If you need me to stop, just tell me," Ghost said quickly. You nodded, raising your hips. He kissed your tit before dipping two of his fingers over your hole. The dark-eyed man looked back to you, waiting to see any signs of discomfort.

“Please, Simon,” you gasped.

Ghost began to press kisses and bites across the valley of your breast while he experimentally swirled his calloused thumb around your button. You cried and quickly covered your mouth when he drew slow, tight circles around your clit. He tilted his head up when he heard your muffled moans.

“Don’t hide from me, (Y/N),” he growled. You nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“Y-Yes sir,” you gasped out. He smirked at the military etiquette that slipped past your lips.

“Good girl,” Ghost hummed before placing a deep kiss over your clit. The moans and pants that fell from your mouth was the most beautiful solo Ghost had ever heard. He swirled his tongue around your nipple as he plunged his two digits into your soaked entrance. His cock throbbed painfully as he spread you open with a loud squelch. Your legs clamped down on his arm as his thumb drew small, tight circles around your button.

“Fuck, Simon,” you mewled as you pinched your hard nipples. He felt you shake as you locked eyes, his mouth suckling on your tit tenderly as he thrusted his fingers at a slow pace. Your sweet nectar dripped down his digits, coating the inside of his palm.

“Pussy already feels so good-fuck, can’t believe what I’ve been missing out on,” Ghost murmured as he curled his fingers upward. You whined, hands flying around his neck as you smashed your lips together in a sloppy kiss. Your hands clumsily found purchase at the base of his neck, gripping at the material of his balaclava. He did mind the sting of his hair being pulled one bit, savoring the sounds of your gushing pussy, the feeling of your walls clinging onto him for dear life.

“K-Keep going,” you hiccupped. Ghost groaned as he flicked and circled your clit more feverishly, his fingers pistoning into your cunt. Your brows furrowed as you fell back, your fists coming down to grip the sheets. Just as he felt your cunt tighten around his finger, he slipped it out. Your head snapped up, confusion and frustration laced in your features.

“Simon?” you asked. Ghost shuffled back, wiping his face of your arousal. You raised yourself to sit up on your forearms, watching him as he stripped. Your eyes looked like they were about to pop out of your head as his dick sprang free. He chuckled, pumping his cock in his white-knuckled fist as he climbed on top of you. He sighed, admiring the way your hair fanned across your face, highlighting your beauty.

“Can't wait to spread you open, love,” Ghost drawled as he spread your legs, admiring his wet handiwork. You bit your lip and wiggled beneath him.

“Please, fuck me. Use me,” you whined, drool dribbling past your lips. He grunted, hands rubbing your inner thighs.

“Don't worry: I will. But first, I need to ask a favor of you,” he whispered as he lined himself up to your aching hole. You sighed, waiting for his answer. Your hands flew up and grabbed his shoulders as he began to sheath himself inside, his tip kissing your entrance. You gasped as he gently grabbed your face, lowering his face so your eyes met perfectly. “I need you to scream my name when you cum on my cock,” he rumbled. You nodded, lips squishing before he let his hand travel down to rest near your shoulder.

"But, what about-" He pressed his thumbs to your lips. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes as he rubbed at your plush mouth. You opened it slightly, allowing him to press the pad of his digit on your tongue.

"Nevermind the boys-I just want to hear you," Ghost lilted. You nodded before he slipped his thumb back out, letting it fall onto your clit. Ghost smiled calmly as he pressed his forehead to yours. He was mesmerized by the way your jaw went slack as he breached past your entrance, your pussy squelching as he inched himself inside of you.

"So fuckin' tight," he growled. Your mouth was shaped into a perfect "O", a high-pitched moan erupting from your lungs and cascading through the room. He couldn’t help but groan at the way his head kissed your cervix as he bottomed out inside you.

“Oh God,” you cried, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. He allowed you to adjust for a moment.

“You hurtin’, sweet thing?” he murmured softly. You shook your head.

“N-No, feels so good-so full,” you sighed. He grinned, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

“God, you're so perfect. Pussy wrapped around me so tight” Ghost grunted as he gave a few shallow thrusts. You moaned, thrashing your head with his miniscule movements that drowned you in a pool of bliss. He groaned before he slowly pulled out, the tense, warm hug of your cunt slipping away. His spine felt like jelly as he slowly sank back into your wet cavern. Ghost's free hand came to rest by the side of your head, his cock twitching inside your walls as he drove into your gushing heat. Despite wanting to pound you into the mattress, he wanted to take his time with you, to make sure you would be covered head to toe with a mind-numbing euphoria. You whined as he rubbed your slick bundle of nerve. Ghost huffed when your gummy pussy clamped down on his cock.

“So pretty, sweet thing,” he cooed, his languid thrusts growing more rapid as he pistoned his cock into you. You arched your back, your walls fluttering around him. Ghost could’ve sworn he heard heavy footsteps outside the door, but he didn’t care, too pussy drunk to even give it a passing thought.

“Simon,” his name fell from your lips like a mantra as your hole opened up for him. The headboard of the bed banged against the wall as he grabbed your legs in a tight grip. You wailed as he pounded into you, his girth stretching your hole wide open. Ghost’s pupils were blown as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, your arousal coating his veiny length and dripping onto the sheets.

“Come on, baby. Come on,” Ghost snarled as he slammed his dick into your cunt, the head of his cock grazing your g-spot with every eager thrust. Your moans began to grow into a grand crescendo. The knot inside of him was winding tighter and tighter.

"Cum for me-cum for your lieutenant," he growled with a hard snap of his hips. You squeezed his shoulders roughly as your eyelids flew open.

“SIMON!” you howled as you threw your head back, your pussy violently convulsing around his thick length. He watched in awe as you unraveled beneath him, your face etched with pleasure as you contracted over and over again. You silently shook as he rode you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he gritted his teeth as he felt your walls getting turned to mush. You gripped his muscles.

“Inside!” you cried. It was only a few more thrusts before Ghost’s body became rigid. You gasped as he filled you with his load, his hot, thick cum painting your swollen cervix. His orgasm cascaded over him like an all consuming fire, burning him to the core. Ghost gasped for air as he steadied himself. You looked just as fucked out as he was- eyes blown and face red with the afterglow. Your pussy squelched as he slowly pulled his cock from your slick walls. He pecked your lips.

"How you feelin', lovie?" Ghost asked. You blinked up at him tiredly, your legs stretching out comfortably.

"Good, so good," you breathed. He chuckled, gently pecking your nose, then cheeks, then lips again.

"Good. Did so well for me-takin' all of me like I knew you would," he praised. Your face flushed at his words. He looked around for his t-shirt. Ghost wiped the cum and arousal that spilled from your leaking hole, his other hand massaging circles into your leg. You sighed as your eyelids fell down. He cocked his head to the side, smiling warmly. Ghost went to stand up, but your hand fell onto his wrist.

“Stay, please,” you requested softly. His heart melted at your sleepy, gentle voice. His lips found purchase on your temple.

"Just gonna turn off the light. ‘M not going anywhere," he reassured. You nodded and gave a small grin. Ghost flipped the switch off before turning back around, finding you fast asleep. He chuckled quietly, crawling beneath the covers and pulling you into his chest. You nuzzled into his rugged, scarred body, sighing in your sleep. He kissed the top of your head before he closed his eyes. Ghost couldn't help but smirk, knowing how your loud moans and the sound of your wet sex rattled the walls.

There's no way König would be sleeping tonight.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[scapingthebottomofthebarrel]

It took 30 years, but here it is! The Remus fic!!

Told You So

“He’s just a boy! He won’t eat you!” Lily giggles while forcibly dragging you down the platform. Lily has been insisting since the two of you met at the beginning of third year that you and Remus would really hit it off, but new people are scary and the Marauders have quite the reputation. So here you are at the beginning of your sixth year being pulled down the platform to what you know will surely be your end.

“It’s not him I’m worried about! No one could be scared of him, he's too soft!” You grunt trying to dig your heels into the ground further. “I’m so bad with words. And he’s really tall!” Lily stops and looks at you like you’ve grown a second head

“Well Remus is excellent with them so it will balance out and I have no clue what his height has to do with this” She says and continues to look for Remus

“Tall is intimidating and I’ll die Lily.” You whine

“You were partnered with Severus for potions last year, Remus will be a walk in the park.”

“Those are two VERY different situations” You defended.

“Well I already told Remus I’d finally introduce the two of you. You wouldn’t make me a liar would you? Oh look there he is.” She chirps, waving him over before you can say anything.

“Tall” “Pretty” you and Remus say at the same time once he’s in front of you. Remus gives you a dopy smile and a little wave as you give what could only be described as a grimace. Your friends have lovingly told you you have zero poker face and your discomfort makes itself known and while you don’t doubt the kindness of the Marauders, your inability to coherently speak to new people has prevented you from meeting the only one Lily has deemed acceptable.

“I’ll take my leave before Potter is able to make his way over. Don’t forget to breathe, he’s too soft to be scared of remember?” She whispers the last part to you before making her way to where the rest of her friends are. You notice Remus taking a deep breath out of the corner of your eye as you try to summon any inner strength you can find and talk to someone new.

“I’m gonna marry you someday.” Remus says with a big smile as he holds out a hand for you to shake. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at this. “That was supposed to be I’m Remus nice to meet you” he groans looking absolutely mortified with himself.

“Straight to the point we love that for you Moony! Keep on manifesting!” Sirius says as he comes up behind Remus and claps him on the back. James and Peter look about ready to pee themselves they’re laughing so hard. The arrival of the other three only serves to increase your anxiety.

“I’m I uhhh I mean w-well I-I umm you’re literate!” You nearly shout shoving the book you had been holding into his chest causing him to stumble back a step. You quickly turn around and run away to find a compartment and write a quick will before dropping off the face of the earth. “At least I gave him the book…” you mutter to yourself as you make your way through the crowed and onto the train. You really do want to make more friends and Lily had said how much he liked reading so you brought one of your favorite books as a way to start a conversation. Thankfully you have another copy of the book, so you won’t need that one back from him. You slump into a seat in the compartment Amos, Arthur, and Molly are in.

“We all saw that from the window” Amos cackles. You groan and bury your face in your hands.

“Leave her alone! It was so cute!” Molly squeals. “Wasn’t it so sweet Arthur?”

“Absolutely adorable.” Arthur says with a soft smile looking at Molly like she hung the stars.

“You couldn’t even hear what they said.” Amos points out. They all turn to you expectantly. “What did you say?”

“Molly, I leave you my nice tea kettle. Arthur, you get my muggle science books from primary school.” Is all you say finally sitting up as the train begins to pull out of the station.

“That’s fine I’ll can ask him myself. Worse case Sirius and Jame will have no problem telling me.” Amos says before quickly standing up and booking it out of the compartment and down the train in search of the Marauders. You look at Molly and Arthur for help.

“Like he ever listens to me.” Arthur says with a shake of his head.

“I don’t know what you think I could do.” Molly chuckles when you look at her. You let out a loud groan as you sink into your seat and contemplate the necessity of a magical education.

You don’t see Amos again until you are boarding the carriages to the castle and he yanks you backwards and unceremoniously tosses you into the carriage the Marauders are in as it begins to take off. You nervously look between the four boys in the carriage and your so called best friend. You will yourself to breathe and remind yourself that Amos is one of your best friends. He knows how nervous you can get with new people. He wouldn’t have put you in this position if he thought it would do you any harm. You take a deep breath and try to smile.

“Do you get motion sick?” Peter asks looking genuinely concerned. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“I-I’m well I uhhh. No.” You squeak out.

“As your future in-laws, we told Amos we needed to meet you. We didn’t realize he would chuck you into the carriage like a sack of potatoes. Our deepest apologies.” Sirius said with a soft smile as he threw an arm around your shoulders

“Shut it Padfoot.” Remus hisses, kicking him in the shin.

“Oww! I’m just trying to be nice! You said to be nice! Didn’t he tell us to be nice? I thought that was so nice of me!” Sirius nearly shrieks looking to James and Peter for support.

“I thought it was nice.” Peter shrugs.

“Extremely nice. You know I’m often told how nice I am. And smart. Don’t forget handsome. Oh a-“ James says in what you assume he thinks in a nonchalant manner until he gets cut off by Sirius.

“We’re here to talk to our new sibling, not for you to indirectly woo Lily. Now where were we? Ah yes introductions. I’m Sirius, this is James, that’s Peter, and of course you know your future husband.” You’ve not looked at Remus yet, but as Sirius gives introductions your need to not be rude has you looking at Remus who looks like he’s about to explode.

“I am so sorry. We got off on the wrong foot and my friends all share a brain cell which clearly has been lost.” Remus says with a sigh before he gives you the softest smile and you feel like you’re going to melt.

“It’s fine.” You whisper. Maybe you could learn to deal with the Marauders if it meant Remus would smile at you like that again.

You focus on your breathing for the rest of the ride, willing your soul to not leave your body. The second the carriages reach the castle you are jumping out and stumbling towards your friends. “Bye!” Remus calls after you.

~~~~~~~~

During the welcome feast you sit as far away from the Marauders as possible. “How’d it go?” Lily asks excitedly as she sits down next to you across from Amos. You toss a roll at Amos when he lets out a chuckle. “So it was as bad as Sirius said?” She asks with a sigh as they both look at you expectantly.

“I don’t know what you all were expecting to happen! When have I ever been the one to initiate a friendship?” You nearly screeched. They all muttered agreements.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be that startled. I really had good intentions.” Lily grabs your hand. Her eyes pleading with you to believe her. You sigh and give her hand a squeeze.

“I know. I really do want to be friends with him I just…” you sigh trailing off as you look over at Remus smiling dreamily. As if he had been waiting for this moment his eyes met yours almost immediately. “Co-could you umm maybe ask Remus if he’d like to possibly exchange letters? Maybe that can help me get more comfortable with him? Then I can, you know, talk to him. Maybe. If it goes well. And he doesn’t think I-”your rambling is cut off by Lily squealing excitedly.

“My baby is going to marry her soul mate!” Amos coos.

“Why do people keep saying things like that?” You groan slumping down in your seat.

“Because it’s true. I’ll go tell him right now about the letters.” Lily chirps quickly getting up and making her way over to Remus.

“Merlin have mercy on my soul…” you whisper, again, debating the necessity of a magical education.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Y/N,

I was over the moon when Lily told me you wanted to exchange letters. You don’t know how relieved I am that I didn’t scare you off. I’d like to apologize for how strong I came on. I promise I’m not normally like that. Ever. Lily has been telling me about you for so long and I’ve seen you around the castle so often, but I’ve never been able to get myself to go over and say ‘hello’. I hope that writing these letters will help me to be more open with you and not hide behind Sirius and James. So, how to begin? Here’s some need to know facts about me

Full name: Remus John Lupin

House: Gryffindor

Favorite food: Chocolate

Dream job: Professor

Bucket list item: Writing a book even if no one but me ever reads it

I can’t wait for your response

P.S. Thank you for the book. I haven’t read it before, but I’m excited to and hopefully we can talk about it

Sincerely,

Remus

You want to cry at how sweet Remus is. You’ve picked up and set your quill down at least 10 times trying to think of an adequate response. You take a deep breath and read Remus’s letter one more time before picking up your quill and beginning to write.

Dear Remus,

I must admit that I was rather startled by our first introduction, however it was really nice to know someone thought so highly of me. I also hope that these letters help me to be braver. I can’t imagine you hiding behind Sirius and James. From what I’ve soon of The Marauders around school it seems like they rely pretty heavily on you to be the brains of the operation and hide behind you when McGonagall is after you all. Here are some very important facts about me

Full name: Y/F/N

House: Y/H

Favorite food: Croissants

Dream Job: Baker

Bucket list item: Open my own bakery

P.S. I look forward to swapping notes

Sincerely,

Y/N

You don’t look at the letter again for fear of ripping it up and never sending anything. Instead you quickly pack up your things and rush from the library to the owlery.

“Where are off to in such a hurry?” Amos calls out to you seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You let out an inhuman shriek and nearly trip over your own feet, but he rushes forward just in time to help you keep your balance.

“Ooo off to send a love note to Lupin?” He asks while waggling his eye brows, noticing the letter in your hands. You make a displeased noise and straighten out your clothes. You look level him with a glare before making the decision to literally run away before you convince yourself to drop off the face of the earth. “You got this!” he yells after you. “We’re all rooting for you guys!” He adds even louder. You can’t help but smile a little bit at your best friends odd attempt at support.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on y/n. Just one?” Sirius pouts from his place on the counter.

“Sirius, you’ve had like five already.” You point out while reaching out to smack James hand away from the bowl of cookie dough you had set off to the side. It’s been six years since you had sent that first response and you’re currently in the kitchen of your and Remus’s shared apartment working on the desserts for a party Amos is throwing on Saturday .

“I’m your favorite brother and therefor deserve a cookie.” Sirius continues giving you his most charming smile.

“Nuh uh!” James shoutes. “Everyone knows I’m the favorite. My wife got you and your hubby together.” James sticks his tongue out at Sirius triumphantly.

“They’re not even engaged!” Sirius fires back.

“Oh, so now thats a technicality?” You ask, putting a hand on your hip. “Because if I remember correctly, you all introduced yourselves to me as my future inlaws.”

“Cause we are” James mumbles around a mouth full of brownie.

“If James gets one I get one!” Sirius shrieks shoving a fistfull of brownie into his mouth.

“No one was given anything!” You yell while trying to coral two six foot something toddlers out of your kitchen. They both start screaming to try and confuse you, but you’ve spent too much time around and living with Marauders to be thrown off by it. You start screaming too in an attempt to assert your dominance. Suddenly the lights go out and you all freeze.

“Did you all miss nap time or something?” You sigh in reliefs at the sound of your boyfriends voice.

“Remus can you please take them in the living room and play a board game or something? I really need to finish these desserts for Amos.”

“Ooo games!” James cheers before he and Sirius each grab a cookie and make their way to your living room. Remus shakes his head and smiles fondly after his friends.

“How was your day?” He asks as he sweeps you up into a hug.

“You should have seen them when Amos was here too earlier.” You say with a laugh remembering the sugar cube war that took place this morning. “How was the interview?” You can feel Remus shift nervously at your question. You hug him tighter and kiss his cheek. “I’m sure it went wonderfully. One of them will stick. I know it.”

“Yeah…I’m sure…”

“Remus we need enrichment!” Sirius sing songs from the living room.

“I just have to fill the macarons and bake the last cookies. I’ll join you guys when I finish.” You kiss his cheek and go back to the counter where your bowl of cookie dough sits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up the next morning to the sound of Remus humming to himself. “Morning.” You mumble as you stretch.

“Morning dear. I forgot I have an interview today in town. I’m going to run some errands after, but I’ll be back way before our date.” He says softly before leaning down and kissing your forehead.

“Knock ‘em dead.” You sleepily sigh nestling back into the bed. Remus convinced you to close the bakery today and spend the day together, so you have no where to be and a cozy bed calling your name.

When you do decide to get up you take your time getting ready. Remus has kept the date a complete secret. He just told you to wear something you like. With his vague directions in mind you get dressed and go eat a small breakfast knowing any date with Remus means yummy food.

“I’m home!” He calls out as he tumbls through the door and two and a half later. “Give me ten minutes!” He adds rushing past the kitchen and to your bedroom.

True to his word ten minutes later he’s walking back into the kitchen ready to go. “Walk by again!” You cheer causing his cheeks to flush, but he does as you say. “That’s my man!”

“Oh hush.” He mutters his cheeks getting even redder. “You know I could take you to court for false advertising. I thought I was getting a sweet soft spoken bean.” He tries to put on what you all call his ‘Professor Remus’ face, but you can see his smile peaking through.

“No way! You knew what you were signing up for and you love it! Now tell me where we’re going.” You smirk as you walk over to him and kiss his cheek.

“I hope you’re hungry.” He chirps as he grabs your hand and leads you out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The book store?” You ask confused

“Surprise...” He squeaks out as he holds the door open for you. You shrug and head in smiling as you take in the large book store. You and Remus have spent an embarrassing amount of money and time here and yet you always find something new. “I’ll be right back.” He quickly mutters before walking to a different part of the store. You nod absentmindedly as you trail your finger along the spines of the books looking for something interesting.

After fifteen minutes you begin to look for Remus. You peak around isles but he’s nowhere to be found. You’re starting to think you’ve been abandoned when you find yourself speeding toward the ground. You had been looking up trying to see over the shelves as Remus is taller than most of them and failed to see him sat on the floor. “Are you ok?” He asks nervously looking you over for injuries.

“Why are you on the floor?” You ask with a giggle as you get situated across from him. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat before handing you a worn copy of your favorite book.

“Look what I found.” He says giving you a smile that makes you believe the Trojan war could have been started over one person, because you would fight an army to see that smile again. You smile back and begin to look through the book. As you flip through the pages a small envelope falls out. It has you name written on it in what you immediately recognize as Remus’ nice hand writing.

“What’s this?”

“You’re literate.” He says as he picks it up and hands it to you.

“Honestly, you get tounge tied once and your branded fo-“ you freeze as you finally get the paper out and read it. “Ma-maybe I’m not. Remus what does this paper say?” He just smiles at you with big hopeful eyes. “Remus…” is all you can get out as the tears start to fall. “Yeah. Yes. Of course. Of course I wanna marry you.” Your words come out jumbled as you look back and forth between the paper and Remus.

“Oh thank Merlin.” He sighs with relief. “If you’d said no Amos would have killed me. There was, well there was supposed to be a whole day leading up to this, but I got nervous I just kind of skipped to the end. Our friends are currently not very pleased with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amos’ party turned out to be an engagement party for you and Remus. It was a wonderful night full of friends, family, and love. After everyone else had left you, Remus, Lily, James, Sirius, and Amos sat around a fire talking about all the things that led you all to where you are now. “I can’t believe we’re god parents.” Sirius said raising his hand to you for a high five.

“I still can’t believe Amos and Jame are allowed to be in charge of a little humans.” You say with a smirk.

“Well I can’t believe Moony made us plan a proposal for weeks only to throw the whole plan out the window.” James teases.

“I was nervous!” Remus groans.

“As if they would have said no.” Lily says with a laugh.

“I am always right.” He concedes.

“No you’re not.” You say with a roll of your eyes.

“Yes I am. I told you on day one I’d marry you.” He looks at you the same way he did on the carriage ride that first day and you’re happy to let him have this.

“Yeah you did.” He leans in and kisses you softly as your friends cheer in the background.

“I’m gonna be the best godmother to baby Lupin.” Lily sighs happily causing you and Remus to break apart with nervous but excited smiles on your faces.

[rentenwins]

silly little excuses (newneighbour!leehan x reader)

ch 1 • ch 2 • ch 3 • ch 4

synopsis: to make leehan feel more welcomed into his new neighbourhood, you give a little something to leehan. you realize a little something when he tells you of his hobby...

content: leehan’s love for fish, mild cursing(?), the bnd members <3, little eating scene, jaehyun is THAT friend, everyone is very nice

a/n: thank you for the wonderful reception for the first chapter!! i hope everyone enjoys this one, this will def solidify the characters a bit more but even more in the next chapter teehee. if you would like to be added to a taglist for this fic, please drop your @ in my ask box!

wc: 1572

taglist: @haechology @jenuinne @saintriots @badaspookie @yveol @yunextdoor @lailols @rawrbamgyu @amarecerasus @pandorahearts19

chapter 2: a housewarming as warm as it gets

Safe to say your mother raised you right, and new neighbours meant proper hospitality measures to make them feel welcome. Thankfully, living alone has allowed you to experiment in the kitchen, including a love for baked treats.

It was tricky to navigate exactly what new neighbours may like, so you kept it easy. Simple butter cookies, some dipped in melted dark chocolate. You made them so often and, allegedly, ‘not too sweet’, family and friend gatherings were in desperate need of your baking skills every time.

A day or two after Leehan had finally settled (as word from Taesan), you finished a batch of butter cookies and you packed them in a reusable tupperware container. Checking the time, 5pm, you figured it was a good time to pop over quickly, seeing a sliver of light come out of Leehan’s front door.

You’re uncharacteristically nonchalant as you rang the doorbell to Leehan’s door. “In a second!” His voice calls out. There was a scuffle behind the door for a few beats before your neighbour opens his door, and he freezes (rather cutely) as he scans your face and you politely greet him.

“Oh! Y/n right?”

“Yes! Hope I’m not disturbing you or anything?” You sheepishly say.

“No! No, not at all. Please come inside. Oh and don’t worry about your shoes, I haven’t had the time to clean.” He makes way in the doorway into the entryway, before he promptly takes the, albeit very cute, Pororo. tupperware in your hands. 

“Those are for you by the way, just a little welcoming gift. I hope you like butter cookies.” You say, suddenly feeling shy as he sets the container on his dining table. As you expected the layout of his home was the same as yours: An entryway that leads to a small living/seating room on the left and a small kitchen on the right, and beyond the living room a dining table that comfortably seats two. Beyond the kitchen on the right of the dining table was a separate area for laundry and bathroom. In between the space of the dining table and the living room was a small hallway that leads to two bedrooms. Leehan gestures to you to sit on his couch as he starts a kettle.

“Do you have a roommate or is it just you?” You ask as you look around his apartment. You didn’t know why it didn’t catch your attention at first but there was a decent sized aquarium beyond the dining table which was (humouringly) larger than the dining table itself. You remember the buckets Taesan and Sungho were holding when Leehan had just freshly dropped everything off at his doorstep.

“Ah, it’s just me living here for now. The landlord gave me a discount for a few months before I try to find someone else,” He promptly places tea bags in two mugs as the water steams beside him, “plus, it takes a while to get used to everything new since I’ve just moved here too.”

You hum in acknowledgment as you can’t seem to take your eyes off the pretty aquarium. “By the way, your aquarium looks really cool. I’m guessing you’re really into that kinda thing, huh?”

Leehan was midway through filling half of his mug when the sound stops, and you look at him from behind the couch. He smiles before he continues, “Yeah! I’ve always lived by the seaside and my grandparents owned an aquarium shop back in Busan. I would spend my school vacation in that shop before my parents deemed I was responsible enough to own my own. And before I knew it, the things in the aquarium I once outsourced were being sold in my grandparents’ shop! So it got easier once I was in middle school, really.” He walks over to the dining table with both mugs, where the containers of cookies sat waiting. 

You walk to the dining table and sit on the chair across from Leehan before blowing on your cup of tea to take a careful sip. 

“So you brought all of this from Busan to Seoul?” you vaguely gesture to the aquarium set-up. Leehan nods proudly.

“Yeah, pretty much. It was hard to figure out but Sungho was really helpful in making sure everything fitted into the moving truck.” He glances at you as he averts his attention away from his aquarium. Your cookies sat in the container as you told him to help himself. With a sheepish grin, he happily takes a piece and takes a small bite. You see his eyes go wide as he momentarily stops chewing before he takes the rest of it in his mouth.

You couldn’t help but smile as he puts a thumbs up, a small “Are they okay?” leaves your mouth. He finishes chewing and he says,

“Okay? These might be the best cookies I’ve had in a while! Honestly, they’re not far off from the ones I ate back home, so I assure you they’re extra good.” He takes another one as you softly chuckle, embarrassed but flattered. You attempt to divert the conversation away from yourself as you ask Leehan,

“So how long have you had this aquarium for?”

And that was probably the last proper sentence you formed (minus the hums and ‘ahh’s of agreement) for the next 15 minutes as Leehan spiels about his pet fish, their plants, his first ever fish which died because he didn’t take care of them properly and how it prompted him to be a better owner.

It was oddly amusing to see how a stranger was so comfortably spilling his hobbies’ intricacies like it was their full-time job. Occasionally catching his eye as he spoke, it was a glimmer of passion and affection for his hobby, it almost made you jealous that someone could be this genuine, hospitable and passionate at the same time.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I tend to get ahead of myself when it comes to my aquarium…” he sheepishly says, taking his mug to his lips that had considerably cooled down in his (adorable) ramble. 

You laugh a little, “No, no it’s okay. It’s quite interesting really! It’s a unique hobby and you sound hella proud of it, so that makes it even better.”

“Well that’s enough about me. How about you? How’s your studies going?” Leehan leans forward tucking his elbows underneath himself as you relax back into your chairs, arms crossed.

You take it as an invitation to ramble about your interior design and what it’s all about. But it turns out Leehan already knows quite a bit.

“Oh, so that’s how you know the two?” Leehan finds out, referring to Taesan and Sungho.

“Yeah, we just ended up sticking together in our one common class and ended up doing most of the group work together too. I didn’t even know we lived in the same complex until our third class together, so that was a bit of a surprise.” You said as you fiddled with the tea bag’s string, your tea was a bit too bitter to drink now.

Moments later and a bit more chatter about your studies, when you felt like you overstayed your ‘welcome’, you stood and was about to bring your cup to the kitchen but Leehan decided to grab yours at the same time. His hand brushed yours slightly as you let him take it. He awkwardly smiles and clears his throat,

“Let me take it, it’s okay. And thank you for the cookies! I’ll bring the container back for you.” Leehan swiftly brings the mugs to the kitchen and walks you to his door.

“Thank you, Leehan. It’s nice meeting you! If you ever need anything, my door’s always open. I’m always happy to help. You know, as good neighbours are.”

“Can I extend that to include your baking then?” He says a bit too innocently for your liking.

“Hmm…” You pretend to think, “for you, an exception.” the boy fails to suppress a shy smile

He giggles and waves as he opens his own door for you to walk out. You say another ‘goodbye’ as you walk to your door across the hall, the sound of a door shutting behind you.

“Oh?” a familiar voice echoes as you are about to step into your house. You turn your head and see a familiar face.

“Jaehyun?” you say confusingly, “did I get the date wrong? I thought we were meeting tomorrow?” Jaehyun looks at you equally confused as the gears turn in his brain.

“What? No! No, no, it is tomorrow. I’m just dropping off something for Mr Newbie here from Sungho.” He points to Leehan’s door.

Odd, you think. “Oh, well. Okay then, see you tomorrow I guess?” 

“On it! Right back at ya!” says an over enthusiastic Jaehyun, as always, as he whistles and knocks at Leehan’s door a little too loud for a weekday night.

You enter your door, and an oddly happy and calm wave washes over you as you thought about how nice Leehan was. It was nice to have someone who matched your energy. As much as you equally enjoyed Taesan and Sungho’s company, maybe a little calmness was what you needed. You spent your evening thinking about his fish rants and fell down a rabbit hole yourself on Wikipedia as you ate dinner, an occasional laugh from Jaehyun could be heard from outside.

[delqcate]

-–— STEAMING MUGS : FLUFFTOBER DAY 4

first time writing for conrad 🫶 i don't have much to say but i just wanna mention i'll be busy this week and next week because i have lots of tests, but i'll probably still be able to post in time. also please don't be afraid to comment or send me any feedback for my writing, i appreciate all the reblogs and reblog comments too mwah | flufftober | navigation

summary: waves crashing, kettles hissing, and taylor swift. there's no better sound than these things. (this is such a bad summary💀)

warnings/cw: no y/n, belly's sister, maybe some canon breaking???

word count: 0.7 k

paring: conrad fisher x you

Laughter filled the air as you and Conrad started running towards the snowing beach, a sight you never got to see until he could finally start driving.

You and Conrad had been testing the waters lately, making sure the both of you wanted this before committing to anything. Ever since the events of last year went down, everyone's emotions were scattered, and both of you knew better than to jump into something serious at a time like that.

"I win!" He laughs breathlessly, placing his hands on his knees in a slightly bent position. He looks at you with that wide smile you adore.

"No fair! Your legs are longer!" You whine back, you've forgotten how tiring the trip from the beach house to the beach was at times, and it seemed even harder in the winter.

"Oh, shut up. C'mere." He takes your hand and pulls out his phone. He stands behind you and wraps an arm around you as he plants a kiss on your cheek, taking the photo. You look down at the photo, laughing softly. Both your cheeks were red from the cold and a smile that wouldn't wipe off.

An idea pops into your head and you take his phone, playing the perfect song for something that was a weird sight for you but oh, so, fucking beautiful. You look back at him with a cheeky smile and hand him the phone. "Still remember the dance for the debutante ball?"

He shakes his head, his smile forming into a grin. That night was one of the worst of his life, but also one of the best. "How could I forget? You stepped on my feet all the time during practice." He takes position with you as you shake your head, a wider smile on your face.

"That was not my fault, you couldn't stay away from me." You sigh as the both of you start to dance, the only thing that fills the air is the waves softly crashing and the slightly muffled music.

"As much as I loved that, it was fucking freezing." He slips his coat off, helping you take off yours before turning on the fireplace to help the both of you keep warm. You head over to your bag and pull out two packs of hot chocolate. The summer house was always cleaned out before everyone left, so there was little to no food at all in the pantry or fridge.

You set the water to a boil and as soon as it starts to hiss, you pour the water into the mugs, mixing it and watching as the water turns into a comforting mix of chocolate and marshmallows. Conrad comes over, wrapping his arms around your waist as his lips start to leave light kisses on your cheek. A laugh escapes your lips and you sigh, nothing felt better than this.

"Let's warm-up, you're freezing." He mumbles into your neck before slowly pulling away, taking the steaming mugs from the counter, and bringing them over to the living room. You take a seat on the floor and stare at the fireplace. "You sure this isn't just an excuse to cuddle?"

You press your legs against your chest and look over at him as he sits down beside you, shaking his head and taking a careful sip of his hot chocolate. "Nuh-uh. If I wanted to cuddle, you'd be willing to anyway." He smirks as you roll your eyes and lay on his shoulder.

"Mom would kill me if she found out I snuck out. Thankfully Belly promised to keep it a secret if I brought her a souvenir." He lets out a laugh and lays his head on yours, taking your hand and placing it on the warm mug. You watch as the steam escapes, the warmth of the mug and his hand, plus the fireplace is enough to keep you warm.

"I love you, you know that?" He mumbles out, not wanting to ruin the moment. You nod once and let his free hand cup your face, tilting your head to let your forehead meet his. "I mean it. Prettiest girl in all of Cousins. Actually, scratch that, the entire world." You let out a soft chuckle and lean in, both your lips meet and let the kiss escalate into something bigger.

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: 'Build Me Up Buttercup' (Discord Drabble)

"Why don't up buuuuuild me up! Build me up! Buuuutercup, baby. Just to let me dow-ow-ownnn!"

Wayne curls his fingers around the top corner of his newspaper, reading over the results of the weekend's local sports results one more time. He thinks he has probably read the same column of statistics at least three times now, not soaking in a goddamn thing.

All because Eddie is in the kitchen, alternating between whistling and singing away, turning the radio up with each new song. When the kid feels like cooking, he's a tornado.

He's singing along to Build Me Up Buttercup now, his "buttercup"'s growing shrill as he competes with the kettle sounding off and bacon crackling away on the stove. Plus whatever other clattering he makes along the way too.

Wayne sighs, blinking harshly as he tries to focus. He supposes he should be grateful his nephew is actually up at a decent hour to not just have breakfast and get ready for work, but is also pretty darn cheery about it.

But he sure as hell could be a whole lot quieter about it!

"Why don't you build me up!" Eddie shout-sings, beginning up the never-ending chorus yet again.

He cracks an egg and Wayne has to bite back a grimace as he watches part of the yoke slop from carton to frypan.

"Build me up, buttercup!"

"Hey, Wayne."

He looks up to find Steve Harrington letting himself in, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible as he looks into the kitchen with an amused frown.

"Morning," he replies, nodding to the boy.

"Is he up?" Steve stage-whispers, bewildered as he sets his backpack down and begins tip-toeing to the table, "And making breakfast?"

"But I love youuuuuu stiiiill..."

"Sure seems like it," Wayne replies, bringing his coffee mug to his lips to hide a fond smile.

He almost falters as he sets the mug back down, startled by Eddie bounding to the table.

"Made you breakfast," he sing-songs, leaning down to grin right in Steve's face before jumping upright just as quick, "Figured you'd have, what, a Pop Tart and a gallon of coffee?"

"No..." Steve defends, folding his arms with obvious guilt.

Eddie hops back to the kitchen, bouncing to the ba-da-ba-bum beat – and singing it too.

"Buttercup!" he screams.

Steve jumps, stumbling halfway to a seated position.

Wayne spills his coffee in earnest now, narrowly missing the sports section.

[the-fiction-witch]

Life

Media Doctor Who

Character The Doctor (Eleventh)

Couple Doctor X Reader (Prior Companion)

Rating Sweet Af

This is a lil trial so if you like it! let me know!

I scrubbed the bottles and cups with my sponge and hummed to myself when I perked up as I heard the unmistakable sound. I set down my dishes and headed out of my little house to see the familiar blue box on my garden grass. The door opened and he stepped out looking almost exactly as I last saw him but there was more gravity to his eyes, more darkness there than I had last seen. He wore the same suit his hair the same and he smiled at me.

I chuckled as I put my hands in my pockets, "Been a while since I saw you doctor,"

"Did I inspire you?" He smirked as he looked at my outfit,

I looked down at my outfit, my little white sneakers, my black leggings, long sleeve white t-shirt, blue pinafore and white headband in my hair, "Somewhat." I shrugged putting my hands in my pockets, "How long has it been for you? Since we saw each other last?"

"...I don't know," he sighed, "I'm fairly convinced... a few months, a few years, It's hard to keep track of these things."

"Six years."

"Six?"

"Six years since you left."

"...God I've wasted time." He sighed running a hand over his face,

"It's alright, I know it passes quick for you,"

"It never gets any easier. To see how people change when I come back." He explained,

"What are you doing here?"

"... a bit of a farewell tour, I had to come visit one of my favourite humans."

"Quiet the compliment, Tea?" I offered,

"Pop the kettle on Y/n." He smiled so I led him into the house, "quiet the place,"

"Well I had time," I laughed, "You still take Three sugars?" I asked as I went to the kitchen and began to make two cups of tea the basic reflex of it all coming back to me even after six years to make the two teas as perfectly desired,

"You still remember? Still, care?"

"Hard not to care about a man you spent so long of your life flying around space and time with," I laughed handing him his tea and taking my own having a seat on the sofa,

He had a sip and sat down beside me and we chatted between the sips of tea, "what have you been up to then? the last six years."

"Living I suppose, It's a little strange to just come back and settle into a normal life after everything... I mean... You took me to the edge of the universe. To the beginning and the end of time. To sights and sounds, I'd never even imagined... And then I come back and ... get a mortgage"

"Ugh normality," he grimaced,

"It's not all bad, I've built a decent if... dull life by comparison."

"You miss it? Travelling?"

"I miss it. But... life goes on. I'm happy."

"I'm glad to hear it." He smiled, "That you're enjoying it,"

"I am." I nodded,

"Do you ever think of about going back?" he asked,

"I don't know," I answered, "So much has changed,"

"You like living here then? No more living out of suitcases and the tardis' wardrobes exploring the ends of the universe."

I giggled, "No, no more of that. I like living here. Built a career, a life, filled my house with trinkets from adventures."

"quiet the life, all that's left is a wedding and a baby,"

I did my best to save face but, "I uhh yeah... divorced so."

"Oh... sorry. I-"

"It's alright, don't worry over it,"

"I am sorry, really I am sorry," he said as he took my hand, "I don't mean to bring up bad memories,"

"It's fine. really." I nodded squeezing his hand,

"Anything else I should know I missed?"

I smiled and squeezed his hand tugging him with me as I set down my mug, I led him upstairs to the bedroom I let him go and headed inside to the room filled with stary wallpaper, sweet blue fabrics, the shadow of the star lamp on the ceiling, and the little crib to the side, I leant on the side of the crib and he came over to have a look too.

He smiled and leant on the crib with me too, he laughed and looked down at him.

"This is Danny,"

"Danny." he smiled, "I love it, perfect name, brilliant name," He smiled, "May I?"

"So long as you don't wake him, doctor," I laughed picking Danny up and handing him over,

"Ohhh Hello," he smiled as he held Danny in his arms, "You're my new best friend aren't you Danny,"

"Ohh I bet he will be," I smiled, "He loves stories about you,"

"He does?"

"Of course, he loves them. there his favourite stories for bedtime," I smiled, "Ohh almost forgot, he'll get grumpy without his favourite toy." I laughed as I took Danny's little crotchet sonic screwdriver from the crib and let Danny hold it in his little hand,

"You made it for him?"

"Yeah, I figured he'd like it."

"Maybe, he always waves it at the light switch when he wants them turned on,"

"Like his own little sonic screwdriver," he chuckled, "He'll be ready to head off through time and space pretty soon,"

"I think so," I laughed,

"You're a very good mother to him Y/n,"

"I do my best," I laughed,

"You must be, he loves your stories, loves his toys gets his beautiful eyes from you,"

"I kinda hope he didn't get much from his father,"

"Was his father that bad?"

"He was a jackass. some men are."

"Some men are." He chuckled before he pulled out his screwdriver pointing it to the starlight and after a few seconds, the cheap white star and moon-shaped shadows turned into vibrant colours and views of the stars of planets, stars, and galaxies full of colour and life, moving gently with a spin and sweep across the white ceiling.

"You-"

"My little gift. for Danny," He smiled, "so he can look up at the stars,"

"Thank you," I smiled,

he set Danny back in his crib to sleep, and we headed back to the sofa,

"Why are you here doctor?" I asked,

"Visiting." He smiled,

"You haven't visited once in six years, why not?"

"Because I missed you, I miss everyone but... I missed you most."

"Thank you, I missed you too."

"did you ever think that you'd be a mother back when we were travelling? Or did you ever think about it when travelling the universes, settling down and having a child?" He asked,

"Admit it very rarely entered my mind. So much else going on." I explained holding my mug in hand and stroking it between my fingers, "But it had always been there the desire to settle down and have a child."

"You deserve to finally rest and raise a child, life is hard and it's nice to have a little bit of hope and peace in your life. I just hope that you are truly happy that you are finally able to settle down somewhere and be content,"

"I am happy," I nodded, "But... can I tell you a secret?"

"I won't tell a soul,"

I blushed running my hands along the curve of the mug, "I always thought It would be with you... Settling down I mean. Crossed my mind more than once over all those years to imagine a room in the Tardis with a crib and a universe's worth of toys, and a baby... with you,"

He blushed a little, "Really?" He asked, "We went through so much together and now you're telling me you were really thinking about settling down with me,"

"I did. Guess I was a stupid little girl then..."

His smile widened, "You weren't stupid,"

"No?"

"No, and if it means anything. I was thinking about it too."

"What?"

"I did,"

"why didn't you ever tell me?"

"All of time and space... I never found the time," He said, "but I did always wonder about what would have happened if we did just settle down and have a nice quiet little life together,"

"it would have been nice... It must have been hard then ... To just leave me here?"

"I wanted you to stay with me... that's the thing, that was the hardest for me, it was extremely difficult leaving you. I wanted to stay and stay with you forever,"

I finally met his eyes, "Wanted? or still want?"

he didn't answer leaving us in silence for a moment before his hand gently took my cheek and his lips pressed gently against my own, I blushed hard and softly kissed back, until he pulled away his nose against my own,

"Do you really need me to answer that?"

"...More than anything,"

"Yes, it's always been yes. always will be yes." He smiled as he happily kissed me again, I kissed back excitedly until we pulled away.

"If it is still what you want," I whispered, "It's here waiting for you,"  

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 8!!

I see your votes everyone, and I hear your voices. But before I can, in good conscience, place us in Heathrow, I need to share this with you.

Beginning|| Previous || Next

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

In the end, convincing Aziraphale (who, surprise surprise, had never flown on a plane) that First Class was the way to go wasn’t all that hard.

“Otherwise you fly all cramped with hundreds of other people!” You say. Crowley nods.

“Mmmmm yes,” the demon agrees, “Imagine being elbow-to-elbow with all those humans. Feet in your face, children kicking the back of your seat, sharing an armrest!”

“I rather like humans though,” says Azirphale, even though he looks a little pale at the mention of armrests, “And I would be next to you anyway.”

“What about the humans who haven’t showered for days?” You ask, “How long has it been since the last time you were near one person, nevermind a hundred-ish, who didn’t follow basic hygiene practices? A few hundred years?”

Aziraphale’s face falls. Crowley chimes in.

“Oh yes, just imagine all the sweat and grease from the airport food.”

“And then there are the babies that travel. I mean, their ears pop when the plane takes off and when it lands, and they only really have one coping strategy.”

“Aaah,” Crowley says, “The crying babes! Think of all the crying babies and no escape! Not for hours and hours and hours.”

“And then,” You say, “There’s the in-flight meal.” Here, you seem to have struck a cord. Duh, you should have led with this. Aziraphale raises an eyebrow.

“Oh? They serve food?”

“Psh,” You say, “If you can call it that. They ask you if you want chicken or vegetarian, and then they plop a cardboard box with a film top in front of you.”

“It’s dreadful,” agrees Crowley, “All bland and clearly frozen and warmed up in a microwave.”

“And if you’re lucky, you can tell that it’s meant to be a sandwich,” You add.

“Supposing you can tell that it’s food at all!” Crowley says with a nod, “And their wine list is small potatoes.”

“Small bland potatoes,” You say, “If you can call them potatoes at all – served in the tiniest bottles and the tiniest glasses you ever did see.”

You noticed Aziraphale’s eye twitch ever so slightly.

“And in First Class they...they serve actual food and wine, do they?”

“Oh yeah,” You say, “with proper service and cloth napkins and everything. Most of the airline websites say that the food’s prepared by an actual chef.”

“And the glasses are normal sizes, and made of actual glass,” adds Crowley for good measure. Aziraphale hums.

“Yes, fine. Clearly First Class is the only acceptable way to travel.” He leaves the room. You hear the kettle turn on. He probably needs some tea to calm his nerves after hearing all that. You turn to Crowley.

“So you’ve gone on a plane before, huh? Did you invent the food? I would not be surprised if you did.”

“Me?” Crowley says, “Naaaah. Never flown on a plane. Never needed to. But I know a bit of fun when I see it.”

You look up at him and sigh, cradling your chin in your hands for effect.

“It really is no wonder why Aziraphale loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” Crowley says, his ears turning pink.

-----

And now, dear Reader, we arrive at Heathrow. Anathema and Newt had met you at the bookshop, and the four of you drove over together in the Bentley after bidding Newt and Muriel goodbye. You spend the entire wait in line at airport security feeling nervous. Airport security is always a test for your nerves to begin with, but this time you have no passport or paperwork of any kind to twiddle in your hands to take the edge off. Instead, you fidget relentlessly with the button in your pocket (Muriel, being an observant and kind soul, had given you a large-ish green button to put in your pocket “Because you seem nervous, and it looked like it helped you last time.” You swear if anyone harms your new best friend while you’re gone you will end them). The line goes quicker than you would like, and when it gets to be your turn, honestly you’re not sure what happens. It all goes smoothly. Did Aziraphale and Crowley miracle you a passport? Did they click a finger or wave a hand to convince the guard that everything was in order? You have no idea, because you’re too focused on your nerves and Trying Not To Look Suspicious While Worrying That This Makes You Look More Suspicious Than You Would If You Could Just Be Normal About This (if you know the feeling, you know why it gets to be capitalized like that).

Once the stress of airport security is done, you head to the bathroom for a break from the chaos so that you can figure out how to breathe again. Normally, you wouldn’t be That Person to occupy the Accessible Washroom, but since you are desperately trying not to have a panic attack because of all the pent-up anxiety from the whole airport security thing, you decide that you Really Cannot Do People Right Now, and that the single-occupant washroom may be your saving grace. You lock the door and sigh, leaning against the cold metal. It’s comparatively quiet here, and you’re grateful for it. Thank Someone. You resolve to try not to be too long in case someone who actually needs this washroom comes by (although I’m gonna be honest here, reader, right now you need this room for invisible accessibility/health reasons). After a minute or two, you are finally starting to feel your anxiety return to a manageable level. Everything is okay. You are traveling with the most ideal companions you could ever dream of, and the worst part is over. Everything from here on out is smooth sailing.

Except, dear reader, you all voted. And So It Shall Be.

You’ve just finished drying your hands.

“Aah,” says a voice behind you. You jump a solid 3 feet in the air. “I thought I might find you here.”

“HOLY! FUCKING! ZOMBIE! JESUS!!!” You sputter.

“Mind your manners, human.”

“Manners?? ME?? This is a WASHROOM.”

The Metatron looks at you blankly and shrugs. Ah yes, the biggest jerk in Heaven doesn’t know or care about washrooms or privacy. Or actually being polite.

“I merely wanted to have a word with you. Away from the others, of course.”

“Yeeeaaaaah,” You say. You’ve seen a million movies (approximate), and read a million books (also approximate), you know what this is. This is the maybe we can still solve this problem quietly plot. And you know that actually having the conversation is a bad idea. “I don’t think so.”

You reach for thee door. It’s locked, and it won’t unlock. Of course. You (gently) pound your head against the door, before turning to face Metatron. You take a breath, and answer as calmly as you can given how angry you are.

“What. Do you want?”

“I merely hoped that we could agree upon...an arrangement.”

“Pretty sure I made it clear back at the bookshop that I’m not letting you anywhere near them.”

“Oh dear, no. This has nothing to do with the demon or with Aziraphale. This is about you.”

You mentally brace yourself. Here comes the manipulation. You inwardly remind yourself of the tropes of villain manipulation and all the things you’ve ever shouted at the tv screen after one of these interactions. You need to be prepared, because apparently you need to play this out. And so, you give him the response he clearly wants.

“What about me?”

“Well, my dear, I only thought that perhaps you might like to go home.”

“Ha! Nice try.”

“You have no desire to return to your family? Your friends? Your life?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

“And you think you’ll get a similar offer later?”

“I mean...well yeah. I don’t know whether I would actually want to go back yet but --”

“You think Aziraphale and his associates will want to keep you as their pet forever? My dear, they only entertain you right now because you’re useful to them.”

Okay, I mean you knew that already but still. Ouch. Hearing it out loud is just...Ouch. Unfortunately, you do not have the Acting Prowess of either Michael Sheen or David Tennant, and so the Metatron sees the Ouch. He smiles kindly.

“Here, you are merely a tool,” he continues, voice smooth as honey, “And back home there are people who love you and value your presence in their lives. Back home there are people who miss you purely because you are you. Here, you are well, a convenience. A help. But that’s all. And once this is all over, there is no promise, no guarantee that you would be able to return. And no reason for Aziraphale to keep you. You would need to start again, and since you needed the help of an angel to get through airport security, I’m guessing that would be very difficult for you. And then, of course, there’s your immortal soul to be concerned about once the Final Judgment comes to pass.”

You ignore the bait, even though it stings. Take a breath. You’ve got this.

“That’s all irrelevant right now,” You say.

“Is it? It seems that you’re….what’s that charming human expression? Flying by the seat of your pants?” He chuckles at his own joke. You smile awkwardly. Well, yes you are, but the heroes in stories do all the time. They figure it out as they go. You are doing no worse than any of them. You don’t find the joke so funny. And frankly his laughter is unsettling.

“Um...” You start uncertainly, “Well if that’s all, then can I go now?”

“In a moment,” the Metatron says smugly. Oh you hate that he has so much control right now. “First I would like to extend to you the offer of some help. I would like to see you home safely, at a time of your choosing. Whenever you feel that you are ready.”

“And you have the power to do that, do you?” You’re skeptical.

“I have the power of all Creation at my disposal.”

“Riiiiight. Just out of the goodness of your own angelic heart. That’s very kind of you Metatron.” You’re not sure if he hears the edge of sarcasm. He shrugs regardless.

“There is of course, one and only one thing I would like from you if you decide to take my help.”

“Oooooof course there is. I’m not letting you near Aziraphale and Crowley.”

“Once again, my dear, this has nothing to do with them. All I would like is to know why your first instinct was to take that coffee. The full truth, mind you. None of that sarcasm or loophole nonsense that you humans are so fond of. And do not be foolish enough to think I can’t tell the difference.” He looks at you pointedly.

That’s...a suspiciously innocuous request. But then again, it usually is with these sort of things, isn’t it? You feign non-chalance and tap your foot for emphasis.

“Are you done yet?” You ask obstinately. The door unlocks audibly behind you.

“Just think about it,” says the Metatron, “No rush.”

Oh yes there is one. You rush to open the door. Never before have you felt so relieved to be in a crowded place.

Don't worry about airplane route logistics or whether or not you can actually get a direct flight from Heathrow to Orlando. Just vote for whatever you would like :)

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning|| Previous || Next

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Paris: Epilogue

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

____________________________________________

Dear Hoteliers,

Helluva Boss events take place after Apology Tour and after the most recent Helluva Boss short “Mission 4: Chupacabra.”

<3 Stay smutty

Paris: Epilogue

Content Warning: Self Harm, abuse, mental health, mentions of suicide

Just Outside Levittown, Envy

Tom Trench: “Five years after 'The Massacre,' V Tower is finally being rebuilt!”

Katie Killjoy: “That’s right, Tom! The Sins of Lust and Gluttony purchased a 50/50 share of the building three years ago, but after a long legal battle with Lucifer Morningstar, reconstruction can finally begin!”

Tom: “Today marks a new era between Hell Natives and Human Sinners after the Sins won the right to purchase property and run business within the once forbidden Circle! What does this mean for the travel ban on the other Six Rings? What does this mean for the economy now that Hell Natives can run and own businesses within the Pride Ring? And who will soothe the King’s butt after it was kicked in court?“

Katie: “In other news, Massacre memorials are set to begin tonight…”

You clicked the radio off.

Has it truly been five years already?

Vox.

Velvette.

Crim.

The hundreds of Souls who all got in the way.

Carmilla who tried to stop you but died trying.

The THOUSANDS of Souls after who died for no reason.

Massacred.

Charlie tried to intervene, but Vaggie wouldn’t let her near you.

Rosie focused on getting everyone away from you.

Lucifer was hurt but thankfully lived.

In the end, it was Angel who stopped you. Angel who was the only one able to get through to you...

Then it was Husk who carried you through the portal to this safe house where you still remained.

The Entertainment District had been leveled by the time you had finished.

And the red staining your fingers still hadn’t faded, no matter how hard you scrubbed.

It was the least you deserved.

Eve has been quiet since then, popping up for short moments of conversation and then disappearing. It’s almost as if all the power used to take out half of Pentagram City had drained her batteries.

Or…

Perhaps she had known that, after the destruction, you had truly given up.

No more Endgame. No more games in general. No schemes or plans or revenge.

You simply just wanted to be.

You would have ended it if you thought Eve wouldn't stop you.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Turning off the faucet, you start the kettle and head for the door.

“Tomatuh!” Rosie pressed a kiss to your cheek, her arms filled with supplies she often brought along despite your protests. Mostly food but sometimes gifts - clothes she made herself.

“Shh,” you took the goods from her. “You’re early, tea isn't ready yet”

Rosie hesitated in the doorway.

“Is something wrong?”

“Well,” The Overlord adjusted her gloves.

Something was wrong.

“Tomatuh, you know I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “But…?”

“Can I come in yet or what?” Vaggie stepped into the kitchen.

You grit your teeth. “Rosie!”

“Hey!” The moth demon stepped in front of the Overlord. Still the warrior she was created to be. “Rosie forbade me from coming but I pushed myself through your stupid portal anyway!”

“That portal,” You held your ground, trying to look as formidable as possible - which admittedly was more pathetic than you assumed given the state of your health. “Is for Rosie only. It is not to be used for gallivanting across the Rings!”

No one was allowed here save for Rosie. The portal opened at the same time everyday - automatic magic she helped you to set up. It opened right on the porch and closed the moment she stepped through.

For Rosie. It was too much of a risk for the others to know your location. They can be captured and they can be interrogated by Heaven. Rosie was a much bigger fish to go after than say someone such as Husk.

“Listen here, asshole! I’m here because Charlie asked me to deliver this personally!” The ex-Exorcist shoved a box into your chest. “The only reason she isn’t here is because she’s at home in our bed balling her eyes out!”

The box…

“Vaggie,” Rosie pulled her back. “That’s enough.”

…it smells like…

No. That can’t be.

“…so ungrateful for everything we did for you!”

“Vagatha, that is enough! Go wait outside.”

The forest after a storm…

“She didn’t mean it.” Rosie grabbed your attention.

Your fingers started to tremble. “Where did this come from?”

Rosie pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Charlie had it boxed up at the Hotel. Apparently they did some fall cleaning with all the new Hotel guests and Angel accidentally unboxed it.”

Oh, Angel.

“Charlie’s been a mess ever since. She insisted that be sent to you right away.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

“I think I’ll take my tea at home today.” Rosie pulled you into a hug. “I love ya, tomatuh. Don’t you ever forget that."

And then she left.

Leaving you alone with a piece of him.

Oh! What could it be? Eve materialized on your kitchen counter.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. Your entire body and mind froze, completely entranced with the box in your hand.

All of Alastor’s stuff had been boxed up and either moved to his radio tower or to Rosie's. You forbade anyone from going to the tower - not that you yourself had returned to it since. Rosie has been there a few times to clean and check on the place, but other than that…

“There were only a few things missing…” The package was wrapped in a thick layer of dust. The only evidence that the box had been opened was the few fingerprints around the edges. Angel's fingerprints? Charlie's?

You peeled the tape off carefully, afraid that ripping the box would somehow mare his memory.

"Holy shit," you collapsed over the box and sobbed.

Alastor's coat lay folded inside - the black pinstripe suit jacket he died in. Speckles of golden and red blood crusted the surface, the fabric ripped diagonally across the chest. Atop sat Alastor's microphone, busted in half along the pole.

Something inside your chest snapped as your fingers traced the cut.

“Mourir d’amour, vivre de haine…" You mumbled.

That’s what Alastor had said to you when he died.

Dying for love.

I miss him too. The embodiment of power leans over your shoulder and huffs. Eve was fun for a while, but I agreed with you. Her plans were small and easily fixed. I never even introduced myself to her. Then I met you, and your plans were extraordinary - I didn’t even think of making Heaven destroy itself. Then we met him. She motioned to the jacket. You fell in love with the man, but I’m why you fell in love with his thirst for power and chaos.

You rubbed the tears from your eyes. “I could feel his magic even before we met. That day I came to the Hotel and Sir Pentious attacked, I felt his static moments before he appeared. I always knew before he was going to enter a room and when his shadow was nearby. Others could not. We had a connection long before the deal we made atop his radio tower - a pull I could never quite put my finger on. I've never had that with anyone else, not even Eve. You’re the reason why I could always feel his magic? Why I had access to his static even though I voided the contract? Why I could summon his magic during the Extermination?”

Oh, no. She waived her hands. I have nothing to do with Soulmates.

“Wh-what?” You stammered.

Look I know things but my magic can’t do everything…

“No. Not that. Can you explain the Soulmate part?”

Wait. You didn’t know? Ha! Oh, my God this is rich!

You blinked. “But Angels don’t have Souls…”

She shot you a dumb look, And who told you that?

You shrugged sheepishly, “Dad?”

Ugh! She rubbed her face. How can you be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time?

“Hey!”

Angel’s have Souls, babe. Soulmates share their Souls. One Soul in two bodies.

“But why would Dad make me a Soulmate?”

Answer: he didn’t. He’s a dick. But hear me out. You have been so sad and so alone for so long, do you ever think that maybe you wanted it enough that YOU made it happen. YOU willed it into being? Your upbringing wasn't precisely the picture-perfect happy childhood.

“That’s insane!”

Oh, well. Excuse me. I’m just the Book of Knowledge, I don’t know anything.

“I made Alastor?”

No! Eve threw her hands in the air. You'd shush her but no one else but you could hear her. You made a Soulmate! Fate decided who. Fuck, girl. It took thousands of years to find him, not like the Soul just popped into a body and called it yours. The Soul is made and ripped into two, it’s probably been floating around the Ether waiting for him.

“Oh…” You fisted the lapel of the jacket, finding comfort in the feel of the jacket in your hand.

That’s a compliment. Some people get shit Soulmates. Sounds like Fate was picky with you.

That made you feel a bit better.

Wait.

“Why are you trying to comfort me? You never try to comfort me.”

It’s not comfort, bitch. It’s pity.

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks.”

Eve didn’t disappear. She sat back on the armchair and watched as you folded the jacket into a nice pile on the table. “What?”

The embodiment of power crossed her legs and rested her chin in her hand. Nothing. Just waiting.

“Waiting for what?”

For you to figure it out.

“Figure what…”

Why I'm pitying you with this knowledge.

Whatever...

You grabbed for the pieces of microphone left inside the box but accidentally knocked it off the table instead. The cardboard came crashing down along with the metal. It smacked against the tile, eliciting a wave of green sparks as the microphone came to rest a few feet away.

Holy shit.

… green static.

Oh, shit!

There it is. Eve smiled.

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

That's not possible. Green static was Alastor's magic. Alastor is gone. Therefore, so should his magic.

But if his magic was still here...

Angel’s have Souls, babe. Soulmates share their Souls. One Soul in two bodies.

You looked at your hands.

It wasn't possible.

You grabbed the jacket and held it against your chest, letting Alastor's natural musk drown you in a sea of his memory. Of his hands in your hair. Of his cockeyed smile whenever his true self shined through. Of his laugh, absent of the radio static.

Blue flame lit up your right hand and in your left...

Green.

Holy shit.

“Wait but how do I…?” You spun, preparing a barrage of questions to through at Eve, but just as you had figured it out, the embodiment of power disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Bitch.

Eve wasn’t going dormant, she was just ghosting you - literally.

But then again, you already knew where to start.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way to the front door.

“Oh, my stars!” Rosie was curled up on her couch, tea cup in hand, clearly enveloped in some book on her coffee table as you stepped through the portal.

Right. You kicked her out before her daily tea time.

“I need a favor.”

Rosie’s look of confusion turned serious, “Okay.”

While you told your tale to Rosie, you watched her look of concern turn to outright denial. “No!”

“Rosie, If there is even a small chance that this could work -.”

“And you die in the process?” She interrupted in a whisper. “This is irresponsible and based off of knowledge fed to you by her. Remember the last time you let Eve influence you?”

How could you forget? You took out half of Pentagram City.

You stepped back, your teeth clenched in anger. Not at Rosie, you could never get made at Rosie, but she was making it so easy to. “I’m doing this Rosie - with or without your blessing.”

She huffed, “If Angel were here, he’d talk some sense into you.”

“Good thing he isn’t.”

Rosie stared you down for a long time, waiting for you to break, but you wouldn’t. You couldn’t.

“You know," she said, placing a hand on your cheek, her pupilless eyes softening. "I think of you like a daughter."

"I know, Rosie."

"I'm supposed to stop you." She smiled sweetly.

"I know."

"I'm not going to."

Your shoulders relaxed. "I know."

Rosie knows how powerful you are. She knew the day you practically fell on top of her that first day in Hell, and she knows now, even with tears in your eyes. She saw your resilience despite the countless days Carmilla tortured you. She knew your past and what you had come to endure. If Rosie truly believed this would kill you, she'd stop you.

You have been slowly decaying over the years. Alastor's death had taken its toll.

At the beginning, you couldn’t get out of bed. Rosie kept you alive, kept you fed and clean. If it wasn’t for this woman, who knows where you’d be right now. Yet, even now, you still found yourself crying in the kitchen whenever jazz came on on the radio. Or felt your heart skip a beat whenever a man in a dark suit and fedora walked past. Or felt that you couldn’t go outside for days after it rained for fear of it smelling too much like him.

You could barely maintain weight as you found it hard to eat. Your muscle was long gone and eyes permanently sunken from the years of crying.

Everything felt heavier. The world felt heavier.

The Overlord dropped her guard. “If you somehow get your hands on the Grimoire to do this, and that is a big ‘if,’ be safe. For my sake."

You beamed, the first time you had truly smiled about something in years. “Thank you, Rosie!” You pulled her into a hug. “I need one more thing before I go.”

After the battle atop V Tower, Lucifer had taken your cloak - the one inscribed in Leviathan. At some point over the years, your brother didn’t know what to do with it, but he certainly didn’t want to keep it. Not after the destruction you caused at the Massacre. The cloak - along with your things at the Hotel that the Hotel Natives helped clear out - were sent to Rosie. You reclaimed most of it for your beach house in Envy, but what you didn’t use Rosie stored for you.

Including the infamous cloak which started all your Shadow Overlord business.

After a quick kiss and a hug ensuring you’d be back, you snapped a portal to visit an old friend.

“Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” The imp dove behind his desk. “There’s a front door for a fucking reason people!”

The office was empty, save for Blitz sulking in his chair while he cleaned some sort of jewel on his desk. Where the others were at you didn’t know but were thankful for it. Normally this office was chaos and you really didn’t want that right now.

“Hello, Blitz,” you pulled back the hood.

“Whaaaaaaaaat?” The imp’s jaw fell.

“I need the book.” Straight to the point.

His eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead or something?” Blitz slowly climbed back into his chair.

Fuck, why did it smell like a barnyard in here?

“Not quite,” you took a seat.

When was the last time you did something like this? The last time you played the role of Shadow Overlord? When was the last time you donned this dusty cloak, sat lax in a chair, and demanded something of a Soul so nonchalantly as if it wasn’t important at all?

Did you miss those days?

“I need the Grimoire,” you repeated.

Blitz did not like the lack of explanation that you were giving him. His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

You clenched your fist beneath your cloak. That’s when you noticed the inter-dimensional gem sitting atop the table.

He doesn’t have it.

“How is Stolas these days?” You asked, running a finger across his desk.

The imp slowly pulled the gem back. You could literally portal across dimensions, if the imp thinks you seek a little trinket from Asmodeus then he wasn’t as smart as you gave him credit for.

“You know, bitch. You can’t just show up here making demands after all these years and expect us to jump when you say how high!” He jutted a finger out in your direction.

This was going swimmingly.

You stood. “It was so nice to see you again, Blitzy.”

“Fuck you, Angel bitch!” He flipped you off as you stepped through the portal.

Blitz is clearly pissed about something. Given that he now had an inter-dimensional gem and not the Grimoire, you were about to find out why as you knocked on the door of its owner.

“Gerald, if my dad Hell Eats one more pint of ice cream, just cancel the fuckin’-. Oh.”

Octavia answered the door.

You pulled back your hood just a touch and waived awkwardly, “Hey.”

And then she slammed the door in your face.

“Octavia, wait!” You practically jumped on the door, panic building in your chest. “Please! I need your help!”

Silence and then, “You left me!”

You blinked. What is she talking about?

“You dropped me off after the hospital and you left! I never saw you again!”

Oh… She means after Stolas told you off and forbade you from seeing her again.

“Your dad -!”

“I know what my dad said!”

“Then you know -!”

“Who cares what my dad said, that isn’t the point! I thought you were my friend, but it turns out you’re just like everyone else!” You heard feet stomping away.

Shit. Leaning against the door, you slowly sank to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to be left behind too.”

Great. Now what are you going to do?

You pulled the chain from beneath your shirt and held it between your fingers. Eve was right, Alastor was an emerald man.

Wrapped in gold as if rays of the sun, was a green emerald ring. You had thought it would be a ruby or a diamond, but green represented Alastor’s magic and that felt more suiting.

“I miss you so much it hurts.” You choked.

It had taken exactly one year before you could open the leather box Alastor left behind. You felt so guilty doing so, knowing it would never be his hand which placed it upon your finger. So, you never put it on, but you couldn’t let it go either. Thus, here it sat, hooked around a chain hanging over your heart.

“Octavia, is that my ice cream?”

SLAM!

The back of your head smacked tile as the door swung open.

“Oh, my,” A blurry Stolas put a hand to his lips.

“Hey, Stolas,” You grunted.

“Thestral?” Then his face fell flat. “Mikaela Morningstar. I thought I told you -“

“Wait!” You held your hands up. “I need your help. Please, just hear me out!”

The Prince took a look around, noticing the eyes stopping in the street to stare. “Come inside.”

One cup of tea and an ice pack later…

“You know, I don’t always harbor fugitives in my home.” The Prince stood astutely, one pinky feather out as he sipped from the fine china.

“I’m not looking for you to hide me.” You ignored the tea, the bubbles of anxiety in your chest too much to handle right now. “I’m looking to borrow the Grimoire.”

Stolas did not look surprised.

And then you explained why.

“… I loved him and he’s gone. If you had a chance to save someone you loved, wouldn’t you?”

Stolas eyed you, “And you’d be willing to die for him?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“This goes against everything the Goetia stands for.”

“I know.”

“Everything I’m supposed to represent.”

“I know.”

“Why are you asking me and not trying to steal it?”

You huffed. “I’m tired, Stolas. I’m so very tired.”

So tired your bones felt like led.

The Prince sighed. “I’ve always wanted that.” He placed the cup down gently. “I just... want someone to care, if I stay or go. I want someone to want me. To want to see me. To hold me. To look at me and think 'You're the only one I want! I desire to hold you and talk to you, and never let you feel so... alone…”

Ah, now you understood.

You placed a hand atop his wing. “I’m sorry about Blitz.”

And he lay his other atop yours. “Follow me.”

____________________________________________

You landed atop the balcony, a layer of dust parting in your wake.

The metal was absent of any signs of what took place here. You had Rosie to thank for that. She came by and cleaned up everything after…

His stuff was still here, but the curtains were drawn so you didn’t have to see any of it. You might break down again if you did.

Nothing’s changed. Eve materialized in a puff of black smoke wearing the same clothes she died in. The same clothes you killed her in.

You didn’t let your mind dwell on it too long. “Let’s get started.”

You drew the Circle of Rebirth in the same spot Alastor died - courtesy of Stolas' Grimoire. The Circle is a form of ancient and forbidden magic, guarded by the Goetia but not forgotten entirely. You vaguely remember hearing rumors of it from a time you could no longer remember.

Different from a Summoning Circle - which knew the recipient’s Soul location - or a Trapping Circle - which trapped beings of other planes within it (the same Circle Eve used to trap you in the airplane hanger a millennia ago), a Circle of Rebirth was meant to trap a dying Soul’s fragments so one could piece them back together.

Technically, that meant the person had to die while in the circle for it to work.

Do you get where I am going with this?

You stood, hand covered in red chalk, and talked with Eve as you finished up the final touches. “So, a Soulmate is of one Soul in two bodies. That means Alastor’s Soul did not fade when he died. I’m carrying it.”

But it’s also technically yours. Eve sat back against the railing, a smug look on her face.

“So, we do what I did accidentally all those years ago. We rip my Soul in half.”

I like it! Eve practically cheered.

And if it doesn’t work then you die… Cool. Okay. No stress at all.

You grabbed Alastor’s jacket and cane, and placed it on your lap as you sat at the center of the Circle.

Eve bent over so she was eye level with you. Are you ready to die?

You died five years ago when Alastor took that bullet for you…

“If I die, what happens to you?” You lifted a brow.

Hmmm, Eve thought a moment. There's this adorable little Princess Morningstar I've been dying to corrupt!

Charlie!

You saw red. “Eve!”

But before you had a chance to lunge, Eve melted into a mass of ink and began the spell.

A hurricane erupted around you, whipping your hair about your face and blinding you from the world.

It exploded into the sky, bringing with it lightning and rain. A cacophony of torrential pain fell upon you as the rain pelted your skin and the wind tore at your flesh.

It felt as if your entire being, every molecular connection, was slowly being ripped in half. Green and blue light exploded from your scar as your Soul slowly seeped out from your form.

Eyes filled with burning tears, you watched as the specks of green slowly floated away and collected into a solid mass before your eyes.

The mass slowly took shape, giving birth to arms and legs…

Power is of two kinds…

...and tall ears…

One is obtained by fear…

Details set in. Alastor’s face took form in a hue of green. His eyes… His lips…

And the other by love…

“Alastor?” You screamed over the wind. You screamed through the pain.

Power derived from love…

And then the ink set in. From the wind itself the liquid trailed into the blue, swirling about it as if oil in water.

The demon smiled.

…is a thousand times more powerful than fear.

And then everything exploded.

____________________________________________

As if submerged in a river of silk, your body slipped away.

No sights. No sounds. No touch.

You were the world, and the world was nothing. Everything existed all at once and yet not at all.

You were the absence of existence, yet you continued to exist. Without form and body, you were consciousness as its birth and end.

You were dying.

If you had told yourself at the beginning of time that this is where you would end up, you would have said to yourself that you were nuts.

Before everything, you were a soldier. A general. A physical representation of God’s Will.

And everything was perfect.

Carry out missions. Train. Report. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Existence was simple and predictable, but that's what you liked about it.

Then the beatings began.

You questioned it at first. Why did God only ever call you to his office alone? Why were you the only Angel with bruises and marks after meetings?

Why was he so angry?

Then the answer became apparent because he told you.

Everything that went wrong in his life was your fault.

YOUR FAULT.

Even if it had nothing to do with you or your missions… It was your fault.

Then you tried to control the uncontrollable in order to lessen the beatings.

Which just made things worse.

Because it was your fault.

You kept it hidden because you were ordered to. But also because it would have been embarrassing.

How could God’s General, leader of his armies and vanquisher of the Leviathans not even protect herself?

Things changed; you rebelled and ran away with Eve, thinking that was the fix you needed. You thought you had moved on. You thought you had healed. But trauma is a scar that never heals, doomed to rip open again and again.

There might have come a day when you had moved on. When God was cold and dead beneath your feet, and everyone who let this happen had been destroyed or long gone by the time you broke down Heaven’s Gate.

That was the plan at least.

Power and chaos and revenge… That was what was missing from your mantra: revenge.

But, here you are: a pesky story of revenge that went nowhere.

And now you’re dead.

And it’s all your fault.

You wonder what would have happened had you not met Alastor. Had you shown up to the Hotel that day and he was woefully absent from the cast, still in Heaven with Lilith - or if Lilith had never recruited the Overlord to begin with.

You felt your thoughts starting to slip away.

Dying is confusing.

But painless.

The end of existence began creeping in, growing ever closer as if tidal waves on either side of you.

Thankfully, painless.

And you were okay with that.

"Not so fast, my doe."

____________________________________________

In an explosion of greens and blues, you were flung back. Your head hit the wall of glass with a loud crack, and your body scorched from the heat as the explosion dissipated.

The thunder ceased. The rain dried. The wind slowed.

Nothing but the silence of death filled your ears - is what you thought, anyway, but death had been painless. This was not death.

"Fuck," you groaned. The scar across your front burned as you sat up. The skin beneath your shirt felt fragile as if newly minted during the moments of your... hallucination?

And when the world stopped spinning, you froze.

A body lay curled in the fetal position, directly at the center of the Circle of Rebirth. Green steam floated off the figure, now wrapped in the black jacket he died in. In his hands, he held a microphone he often used as a cane, freshly made whole once more.

The demon groaned as words flew across his bare skin.

Holy shit.

"Alastor?" Hesitantly, you crawled to the Circle.

An ear popped up, turning in your direction as you stopped just at the edge.

"Alastor Hartfelt?" You reached slowly for his shoulder.

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

A sob tore through your chest. "It's me. It's..."

"My doe."

The next thing you know, you had arms wrapped around you and warm lips on your own. You sobbed into his mouth, the same familiar mouth belonging to the demon you loved.

His hands were soft as they cupped your cheeks, as the scent of the forest after a rainstorm filled your nose. His hair curled around your fingers, knotting itself as you plunged them deeper.

Alastor pulled you into his lap. Cocooning you in his warmth. He was always so warm...

The demon broke the kiss, catching his breath as he said, "Shed not tears for me, my doe."

Red irises glinted with tears of their own. A green "X" was now present between his eyes were the bullet once hit.

"You left me," you sobbed. Rivers of woe flooded down your face and soaked into his gloves.

"I did not." He rested his forehead on yours. The demon breathed, simply enjoying the mere presence of you. "I never left. I have been here the entire time."

You blinked. "What?"

"I have held you long into the night when you could not sleep and guarded you when you did. I was the shoulder you cried on when you needed to and dried your tears when you were done. I caught you when you crumbled and helped you find your feet once more. I ensured no harm ever came to you and no enemy ever found you." Alastor dried the tears on your cheeks.

"I have stood by your side every moment since that day." He went for the chain around your neck and broke it in two.

"I promised you I would never leave, and I did not. I have been at your side for the past five years." He unhooked the ring, and you watched as he slipped it on your finger. "You just didn't know it." The demon pressed a kiss to your hand. “Your personal guardian angel.”

Life flooded back into your body. "Alastor!" You flung your arms around the demon, burying your face in his jacket as you sobbed.

"I love you, my doe." He held you tight.

You shook your head, "Al, I am so sorry. It's all my..."

"Stop," He held your face in his hands, his claws brushing your cheeks. "Saving you was my choice, and I'd do it again, given the chance. Your death is mine to claim, remember?"

You chuckled. How ridiculous that sounded, given the current circumstances. "How could I forget?"

Pressing another kiss to your cheek, he chuckled.

God, you missed that sound.

With his hand in yours, you watched the words from the Book of Knowledge flow from your skin into his. "How is this possible?"

Blue fire erupted along your fingers, calling to his green static.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Alastor's heart.

"My Soulmate." The demon's purr filled your chest with warmth. "That explains everything."

"I always thought it was an old wives' tale, something you told children at night before bed." You watched the green static dance across your arm, bending and moving at your will.

And the ink. The ink flowed along Alastor's jacket as if it were his own.

Long ago, you killed the Second Lady because she had tied her Soul with the power from the Book of Knowledge, thus tying it to yours. By splitting it in half, the two of you now share it, along with your original magic.

Power and chaos and love...

"Thankfully not." Alastor was solid beneath your touch. His breath filled your lungs with new life. His magic tore the weight from your bones. His heartbeat synced with yours and willed it back to full strength.

You felt reborn.

Al brushed the hair from your face, the warmth from his breath hot on your skin.

Alive. Alive. Alive. Your body chanted.

Alastor was alive.

____________________________________________

A few days later, in Paris, France, Earth...

Alastor grabbed you by the waist and flipped you around. Backing you to the railing overlooking the Seine. 

“Mr. Hartfelt!” You gasped.

“Mrs. Hartfelt.” The red in his irises sparkled deviously. With his hands on your waist, the demon dipped down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips - to which you did not protest. 

“What’s next, my doe?” 

You breathed in his scent, his natural musk kicking up the butterflies in your belly. “Now we wait. It’s Lilith’s turn to play her part.”

“Hmm,” the demon hummed in thought. “And after?” 

You smiled wider. “I’m afraid those plans have not changed.” You went for Alastor’s fedora and placed it atop your own head. 

Alastor tilted his head back and laughed, a few sparks of blue popping off his shoulders. “I love you.”

You smiled, climbing to the edge of your toes to meet his lips. “Forever?” 

“Always…”

And then the Radio Demon kissed his Shadow, marking the beginning of the end for humanity. All because a demon fell in love with an Angel.  

To power, chaos, and love, dear readers… 

Thanks for reading, Hoteliers <3

-> Afterword

Tagged Hoteliers:

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick @cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @sawi1987 @mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah @diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta @reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages @chibistar45 @rapunzelbro @stephydearestxo

[yoongihan]

A Big Neon Sign - LYB (Felix)

pairing: lee felix x femreader

genre: fluff, smut, f2l, a little angst (barely)

word count: ~3k

rating: M (MDI please)

warnings: some language, so much kissing, ppl definitely getting turned on and then talking about it and feeling it, reader is implied larger than felix, some self-pity, i think that’s it?

a/n: so, this kinda feels like it’s set in the same world as ‘i adore you’ and with the familiar motif of a sofa as our main location. don’t ask me why this is a thing. it happens to be a thing. big thank you to @jl-micasea-fics​ for beta-ing this, @seokjinger-ale​ and @hannahbee12719​ for reading it. i hope it’s enjoyable to you, dear reader.

masterlist

--------

“I’m sorry.”

Felix lets out a sigh in such a way that his fringe flutters from it. You want to comment on it, just that his hair is getting so long, but you know that it’ll take your thoughts down a dangerous path.

You know better. You’ve been avoiding that path for awhile now.

“I told you,” he says softly. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I do,” you reply, your hands lifting up from your lap to emphasize whatever words pour forth. “I have to apologize because if I was listening to myself as a friend, I would be tired of this topic too.” You search out for something to grab in the air in front of you. But there’s nothing. Maybe you need to steal (borrow) a plushie from Felix’s collection on the window seat in his bedroom.

You and Felix often hang out at the apartment he shares with Seungmin and Changbin. Your place is smaller, and unless he wants to curl up on your twin bed with you, to watch something on your five-year-old laptop…

Yeah, no. No putting Felix anywhere on your bed.

Changbin and Seungmin sometimes join in on the food and frivolity (Felix and you enjoyed watching Hallmark movies that you could easily deconstruct with your English Literature degree, but you didn’t. Because they made Felix smile and gave you faint hope), but tonight the two of them had gone to a party you all had been invited to.

“But you like people,” you explained to Felix earlier. “I can easily go and find a corner to peoplewatch from and you, Bin, and Seungie can connect with the human race.”

Felix had just smiled at you before waving his roommates on, telling them that he just wanted to curl up on the couch and watch a movie with you.

Popcorn, both butter and kettle, is popped with cans of Chilsung to make up your dinner for the evening. The movie matters only in that it isn’t one either of you have already seen.

“So, what you’re saying,” Felix begins, “is I’m a better friend than you are?”

You laugh even though it’s probably sad-sounding.

“That was never a question, Lix.”

He sighs again and scoots closer to you. You’re pressed against the arm of the sofa so hard that it kind of hurts, but you can’t relax.

“I know we don’t believe this crap.” You point at the tv screen as the credits still roll from whatever ‘set in a small-town, so person learns what happiness and love is’ movie you’ve both just watched. “Or I don’t. But I still kind of do. Then I get depressed that it hasn’t worked out like that. Then I’m angry at the movie for being a lie and–” You cut yourself off. “God, I’m sorry.”

His arm pushes against yours lightly as though reminding you that he’s here.

“It’s okay.” He links his arm with yours before resting his chin on your shoulder. You take a deep breath.

“Is it? My track record is so bad. I mean, not having an actual relationship since sophomore year of high school, one that lasted only three weeks. I’ve kissed more than I’ve dated, which seems like that should be the opposite. Guys I’ve kissed never wanted to date me. Guys who felt like they might ask me out, only shrugged it off like I imagined the signals, which I know I have a good imagination, but I don’t think I’m that off at reading people. Maybe I am. Maybe I am actually repulsive romantically, but no one has told me.”

He ‘tsks’ at you. “No.”

You shake your head, staring at your hands which have returned to your lap because you’re afraid if you grab onto Felix, you won’t let go.

“I know I’m not repulsive. I know I’m not a horrible anything, but Lix, we’re looking at the evidence here. I don’t get asked out. And I only get propositioned by someone under the influence of alcohol or drugs, or a combination. None of that makes a good case for me having a shot at a sweet wholesome romance.”

He hums softly as though he’s considering your words. Felix is a lot quieter than you, only speaking up when needed in big groups, or just one on one. He tends to make his thoughts better known through his very expressive face and skinship.

It’s a good match for you as you talk too much and are often touch-starved.

“I can see your point. You know, if this was a trial and all your evidence was objective truth.”

You turn to look at him, forehead scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean? You think I’m lying?”

He smiles at you, still attached to your arm. “No. I’m just thinking that you only know one side of the story, right? You don’t know who liked you but was too scared to ask you out. Who considers it, but resists because of their own track record.”

You open your mouth to protest, then close it. “Okay. You’re not wrong.”

“And this isn’t a trial.” His hold tightens on your arm, scooting even closer. “This is life. Which doesn’t follow any rules, or formula.” He nods toward the television which has now moved on to the next movie of cheesy dialogue and picaresque landscapes. “Not every rejection or missed opportunity means that something is wrong with you.”

“But some of them do.”

He rolls his eyes at your insistence. “Maybe it’s nothing wrong with you. Just something that doesn’t match with someone else. That’s not anything on you.”

You smile and look back down at your hands. “I am sorry, though. You probably wanted a fun, light evening of snacks and breezy romance and I got all moody and shit.”

His arm unlinks from yours and you find yourself enveloped in a Felix hug. Your eyes shut tight because you will not cry, and you find yourself adjusting so you can hug him back.

“All I wanted was to hang with you,” he says, his voice low and gentle. “At a party, watching a movie, laughing or crying, or both. It really doesn’t matter.”

You bury your face in his shoulder.

He rubs your back. “It’s okay to be sad about it. Just don’t let it turn into a big, neon sign that you think defines who you are, or what your relationships will be like.”

You sniffle because you are leaking tears. He draws back and lifts up your head in his hands.

Felix has the prettiest brown eyes. You don’t know what shade of brown they are because it’s just more of how those eyes look at the world around him, how he looks at his friends, at a squirrel in the park, at a bouquet of flowers.

He’s really the most beautiful person you know.

His thumbs brush away the escaped tears, but he doesn’t let go of your face.

“You aren’t repulsive. In any way.”

You breathe in shakily. He smells more like popcorn this evening than his usual citrusy lavender (from a combination of his laundry detergent and the lavender plant he likes in his room to help him sleep).

“Thanks.”

He’s scanning your face as if making sure you believe him. He leans in so his nose touches yours.

“I don’t blame those guys for kissing you, you know. I bet it’s nice kissing you.”

You blink about four times as his words settle in your brain.

“Um, same goes,” you reply. Maybe this is a compliment-giving battle. “I mean, you have freckles, Lix, that’s like its own neon sign shouting ‘please kiss every single one’.

He blinks two times before a smile stretches his lips. “Yeah?”

You swallow. “Sure.”

His head tilts slightly to the side, his fingers grazing your cheeks because he still has your face captive. His smile softens, his eyes still bright, but he’s thinking. He’s pondering something.

“So…” you start, the silence of the moment getting to you, but he shakes his head. You shut your mouth.

“Can I kiss you?”

You knew you were getting into dangerous territory, talking about kissing his freckles, but you really didn’t think it would lead anywhere. This is Felix. Your friend.

“You want to?” your voice cracks like you’re just going through puberty. You can feel your cheeks heat from the embarrassment.

“I do.”

There is no guile about Felix. He is the most transparent person you’ve ever met. Sure, he can be sneaky about surprise gifts and parties, and if he’s in the middle of a Mafia game; but in real serious moments, he’s never anything but himself, and truthful.

His admission that he wants to kiss you seizes your heart. And because you are incapable of just letting things happen, you have to speak.

“For like, curiosity’s sake? or I dunno–”

He’s giggling.

You try to pull away with a huff, but he won’t let go of your face, his hold on you tightening.

“Look, I just would like to know–”

He’s kissing you.

His lips are soft like his hands, just as gentle. Your brain and body take a few seconds to catch up to the very shocking idea that Felix’s lips are on your lips, and when they do, your hands twist into his hoodie and find his slender waist like you need to hold on to something or you might just drift into nothingness.

“You okay?” he asks, his mouth only drawing back so he can get the words out. His fingers slide back to your ears, tracing them before sinking into your hair. “You want me to stop?”

“God no.” You open your eyes to see the twinkle in his eyes, a reminder that he is the softest boy on the planet but he’s also playful and ridiculous. “Lix…I…”

He kisses you again (which is good because who knows what embarrassing things you would say), mouth parting. His tongue slipping to touch yours is a revelation as is the way his hands in your hair move to tilt your head so he can go deeper.

You’re pretty sure you could tear holes into his hoodie if you aren’t careful.

He scoots closer, rising up to his knees before shifting so he’s straddling you. Your head is slanted up, both of you refusing to break apart. You try your best to loosen your grip on his hoodie, carefully slipping under the material to touch his skin.

You sense him jolt at your touch and you pull back, ready to apologize for crossing some sort of line, but he doesn’t let you get far, mouth seeking yours and he mumbles against your lips:

“Touch me.”

Never mind that you shudder at his words, your fingers back on his skin, hand sliding up his back. You try to rise up, both to kiss him more and to run your hands along his shoulders, but he’s too far. You hear a whine and realize that it’s you.

He doesn’t slow down, his kisses more urgent, more insistent; his teeth graze your bottom lip. His hand glides from your hair to the back of your neck, squeezing like he does when he offers a back rub.

“Hurts?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, lowering himself so that instead of kneeling, he’s sitting on you. He’s not heavy; everything about Felix is slight except his heart and his smile. He draws back, waiting for your eyes to open. When they do, he’s staring at you, lips (now a deep red, swollen and glistening) curled up in a small smile.

Your hands, tracing his spine and shoulder blades, pause in their journey.

“Did your neck hurt?” he whispers. You open your mouth, trying to process his words. He squeezes the back of your neck again as though to remind you.

“Oh, um…” you swallow.

Why can’t you speak?

He leans in, his nose brushing yours while he kisses you lightly before moving to do the same to the side of your neck. The sigh you release makes him chuckle.

He “mmm”’s while kissing your neck, but your head falls back when he reaches the beginning of your shoulder. You feel his teeth, and all you want to do is bite him back.

“Lix…”

“Hmm?” his answering hum is so low, like bass at a concert and you can feel it tremble through you. He lifts his head so your eyes meet.

“Hoodie off.” Why are you breathing like you’ve run for the first time in your life?

He raises his eyebrows. You start to take it back (what are you thinking?), but he reaches to the back of neck and tugs his oversized hoodie off.

Technically, you know he wasn’t wearing anything under, but it’s still a shock to the system to see all that skin.

He’s watching you, his cheeks flushed. You drag your fingers along his shoulders and down his chest, resting on his sternum.

“Jeez, you’re pretty.”

The flush deepens, but he smiles, lifting his chin up a bit and then back down as though beckoning you close. You sit up, your own hands cupping his face like he had done yours just seconds (minutes? hours?) ago. You press your lips to his, softly, then harder. He shivers, arms wrapping around your waist. Kissing Felix is surreal. You know it’s happening because there are sounds (his low moans, soft as they are, might just be your death), you can feel his hands gripping your shirt, feel his soft skin under your fingers - warm, his taste and tongue and lips. And yet, you cannot believe this is actually occurring. Right now.

You almost yelp as he falls back on the sofa, taking you (his hold around you is unrelenting) with him. You immediately let go, catching yourself by your hands on the cushion, bracing so you don’t suffocate him.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes flutter open, the color so dark as he stares up at you.

“Felix?” You start to look down his torso to make sure you aren’t mistakenly kneeing him somewhere and unintentionally bruising him.

He says your name. The deepest, quietest whisper. Your eyes shoot back to his face. He raises up to his elbows, mouth grazing yours. Your worry for his physical self melts back into desire. At one swipe of his tongue, his hips lift and press against you.

Oh fuck.

He says your name again, but it’s tense. His index finger hooks the collar of your t-shirt and he tugs you closer to kiss you.

“You’re too far.” He barely breaks away to deliver the implied plea.

“I’ll crush you,” you reply, ever mindful that you are not as delicately formed as Felix.

He jerks back and you chase his mouth. You just open your eyes to see and feel him hook his arms under yours and pull up.

You land on top of him with an ‘oof’.

“What the fuck?” you gasp out.

He’s laughing, arms moving to hold you tight as you lift your head to attempt to glare at him. He kisses your nose before dragging your shirt over your head and tossing it onto the floor. You start to say something about your bra (it’s not like you wore a really nice one), but he’s gone back to kissing you.

Your legs are tangled with his as his hands draw along the curve of your back, tripping over your bra clasp and down to where your jeans begin. You’re hardly aware of anything anymore but how his lips taste sweet from the Chilsung, and how silky his hair feels between your fingers.

Then his hand dips under the waistband of your jeans to mold to your ass and press you closer.

You hear him whimper as you gasp because he is so hard and feels so good. You repeat the motion, without his guidance, and his hand tightens on your skin.

“Are you an ass man?”

You need to breathe and it is dawning on you that he and you are two seconds away from dry-humping in the middle of his living room and maybe that needs to be discussed.

His breathing heavily and his eyes are staring straight up at the ceiling. He has not moved his hand from your butt at all.

“Maybe? I mean, yours is…has always been good.”

He squeezes again and you let out a small squeal. He grins, eyes falling back on you.

“So…um…” You touch one of his cheek freckles. “This is like, really good and all, but kinda um…unexpected?”

He turns his head to kiss your finger, nipping it. “Not really.”

You’re attempting not to squirm at that little bite which shoots straight through you. “What?”

His other hand (the one not still on your ass) traces up and down your side as his gaze returns to your face.

“You’ve never thought of me like this?”

You can feel your face go hot. “I mean, sure. Look at you.”

His expression is way too smug.

“But just cause…wait, have you thought of me like this?”

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

“How is that obvious? We’ve been friends for ages and nothing has ever–”

He shuts you up with kiss, open and wet. He draws back before you can even register it.

“Just because you never noticed anything doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.” He rolls his hips up against you. You hold yourself still despite how good he feels. “That has happened a lot.”

You make a face at him. “You’re a guy. That’s not a great indicator of anything but stimulation.”

He licks his lips, before huffing a sigh at you. “It’s happened a lot with you. My oblivious friend who lets me cuddle as much as I want.” You watch as his eyes grow serious, his lips flatten. “I’m not totally alone in this, am I?”

You kiss the corner of his mouth, lingering because you cannot handle the flash of sadness in his eyes.

“No. You’re not alone.” You can feel him relax his hold on you before meeting his lips squarely with yours.

He takes one of your hands, while his mouth is taking yours, and slides it down and in between you both. He pushes it hard against his dick and he shudders.

“Fuck, if you knew how much I’ve wanted you to touch me there.” He groans when you tighten your grip. When you don’t continue, he pouts. “Why not?”

You shrug, raising up just enough to kiss the top of his cheekbone. “I have to kiss all your freckles now, Lee Felix. Now that I can.”

His answering grin is both affectionate and exasperated, and you kiss another tiny dot on his beautiful face.

“I mean, you can do both.”

© yoongihan 2023. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

[toobz-drawz]

paul mccartney x reader where he flirts with her but she can’t tell if it’s genuine or he’s just being a typical 60s playboy? :)

And I Love Her

Paul McCartney x Reader

•Warnings: There are none.

•Summary: One knock on the window turns into one big surprise just waiting to unfold.

•Characters: 5,321

It was rather a lovely day in Liverpool, other than the fact that it was freezing cold outside. You were seated near the fireplace, all of your blinds were drawn up, light was pouring into every room, and which it gave you every opportunity to look outside and see the amazing view of the outside world while it lasted. The sound of water boiling in the background could be heard, as well as the fire crackling beside you. It felt peaceful, it felt so comfortable just in that moment of time. That was until you heard a knock at the window to your right, you looked up, and there was Paul. Waving at you from the other side, he wore a rather large coat to keep himself from having hypothermia or frostbite. You smiled at the sight of him, you had gotten up, made your way to the window, and popped it right open. Feeling how the cold air rushed into the comfort of your home. “Hello love, I couldn’t help but stop by and see your lovely face.” He ducked and popped his head through the now open window, leaning his figure against the windowsills frame. “Paul! Cant you use the door like a normal person?” You let out a small laugh. “Well, I for one am not normal and two I find talking out of a window to a bird like you much more romantic.” He poked your nose after talking. Paul has a history of flirting with you for god knows how long, but in all honesty you think he’s just messing with you to get a reaction out of you. Although he is pretty charming you never quite fall for his tricks seeing how all the other lovely birds fall to their knees as soon as he just speaks a single word. 

You placed your warm hands against his flushed cheeks, feeling how cold his skin really was. You’d lower yourself down to his level, before pushing him out of the window. “Now please go use the front door, before you catch a cold! You’re as cold as ice. I’ll fetch you some tea for you once you get situated inside.” You pulled the window down, shutting it before Paul could get another word out. Not long after unlocking the door for Paul the kettle would start to whistle. 

Paul stood there in the cold, staring at the window you just closed, scolding himself for not saying anything before you had gone away. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he huffed, feeling as if his feelings got pushed back once again, hadn’t he made it clear to you yet? How many obvious things does he have to say or do until you finally get the hint. Paul just wanted to grab you, and kiss your pretty lips but damn him for doing so. He could say about a thousand words of how much he’s loved you since the day he laid eyes on you, but alas he feels as if you don’t feel the same as he does. 

Paul opens the front door, walking in, closing the door behind him before anymore cold air gets in, and starts to take off his shoes and coat to hang up. “Would you like any biscuits with your tea?” You’d shout from the kitchen, “Yes please!” He made his way to the living room to sit next to the fire, his fingers felt like they were made of solid ice and looked as if they were too. 

“Sorry if there isn’t as many biscuits as you would’ve wanted but that’s all I really ha-“ You walked into the living room with a tray of cups, accompanied with a plate of biscuits. Your eyes laid onto Paul’s shivering body. “Dear, really, how long have you been outside?” You carefully sat down and placed the tray in between the two. “Not that long I promise, love.” His gaze was set on the fire beside him, you could tell he was lost in his thoughts, there was always something in that mind of his, things that got him to where he was now. “Your body is telling me a whole different story.” You ever so gently grabbed his hands, now holding them up to your face, before blowing warm air onto them. Once that first hit of warm air hit his hands, his head turned to face you. “Fine I’ll tell you why I’m really like this.” He took a deep breath, preparing for you to hate him after this is done. “I had been circling the whole block, trying to decide if I should tell you how I really feel, you know it doesn’t help that I keep dropping really obvious hints, and you’re not picking up on them. What— I’m trying to say is that I love you more than anything y/n, I feel like I’m crazy, but when I first laid eyes on you back in the late 50s god I thought you surely were the one for me. Y/n, you were such a fox I me—“ you placed your finger on Paul’s lips, silencing him from spilling his heart. “Paul, I’m so sorry. I thought you were just playboy, trying to take my heart for granted, but I was so wrong.” Paul’s eyes looked as droopy as a sad dogs, he surely thought this was going to the final nail in the coffin for sure. “You’re such a good man, a real loyal one too..I really should’ve opened my eyes more, but to answer all of your dying questions this is what I have to say..” you watched as he squeezed his eyes shut waiting for you to go off on him, but rather you showed him the complete opposite. You laid your lips against his. Giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I love you too.” That was all he needed to hear, before opening his eyes and jumping up. He started to celebrate, throwing his hands into the air as if he was a little boy again. You just couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Now come on here boyfriend, we still gotta bring you back to health.” 

[blue-sadie]

The Accused

Robbie Paulson x Roommate Reader

Series Masterlist

Prt 9 of the Different Versions Series

Summary: waking up by someone pulling you out of bed is a rude awakening so he just puts you to bed very nicely

Warning: wall sex

Yn/3rd person pov

I was awoken by someone pulling me from my bed and shoving me into someone chest, my eyes widened but my vision was still blurry "leave her alone you punks, it's ok cutie everything will be ok" I heard Marc's voice as i felt arms wrap around me.

My gaze followed the man blurry people in blue and black uniforms as they ransacked the room "hey that's private" he yelled as he left my side, my vision slowly came into focus, my heart pounding as I looked to the people around me it was the police "Mr Robbie Paulson" marc's doppelganger turned to the person calling him his eyes catching mine.

"I'll be back Cutie be safe" he murmured as he walked by I silently followed him to the lounge my hands clenching my pj shirt as I sat on the couch I watched the police come and go with different of possessions in their hands, I sat still and silent waiting for them to leave, it was about 3 hours when the last cop shut the door.

I turned on the TV my eyes glued to the screen listening to the late day news, "hey cutie I'm back" Robbie called out as he stepped into the apartment "in here" I said not looking away from the TV, I watched from the side of my eye as he shrugged off his jacket his eyes watching me carefully.

"They didn't disturb you too much did they" he asked his voice filled with sincerity and concern it wasn't something I was very much used to it felt comforting, I turned to look at him a slight smile on my face "they were alright but not when they pulled me from my bed" I admitted he smiled sadly and came to sit by my side "I'm sorry" he mumbled, he had a pouty look on his face which made me smile more he was cute.

"Its ok" I murmured resting my head onto my are that on was the back of the couch so I was looking at him directly, he jerked slight as an idea popped into his head his eyes widened in excitement "I know what will make you feel better" he said standing up, my brows frowned in confusion a bit as he rushed to the kitchen and the familiar buzz of the kettle rang out softly through the apartment.

I heard the cluttering and clinking of mugs and utensils before after a fem minutes he brought out two mugs and a packet of choc-chip biscuits, the smell of hot chocolate filled my nose it was delightful I smiled taking one mug from him carefully and thanked him before taking a little sip mh nose crinkled at the slight burn but i didn't care, now don't get me wrong I love Steven's tea and Marc's coffee but fuck the way jake made his hot chocolate was amazing and this tasted the exact same but he'll never tell me how he makes it.

"How did you make it" I questioned seeing if I could finally get the answer "a magician never reveals his secrets" Robbie grinned mischievously as he sipped his own returning to his seat, we fell into comforting silence our gaze turning back to the screen, he grabbed the remote flipping through a few channels intill we found a good movie to watch.

During the movies progression our now empty mugs have been discarded onto the coffee table and our bodies slowly inched towards eachother intil his arms were wrapped around my shoulders, my body pressed up against his and my head nuzzled into the crook of his neck with his on top of mine.

His breathing quickened as he slowly moved his hand down my shoulder to my thighs his finger lightly drawing mindless patterns as he stared at the screen, I smiled warmly and moved my hand to hold his, he flinched at the contact but eased into it I intertwined our fingers and squeezed his hand lightly turning my head to him to see him facing me a cute smile spread across his lips.

"I-i like you cutie" he murmured a dark blush appearing on his cheeks I bit my lip before speaking too "I like you to robbie" he closed his eyes as his smile widened a loving chuckle left his lips "really" he asked leaning a bit more towards me I nodded and leaned in too so our lips touched, he groaned happily as he pressed his lips harder against mine.

I slowly shifted intill I was on top of him my thighs next to his and my chest was pressed up against his, he let out stuffled moans and whines as I slightly moved on his lap, I could feel his cock hardened under me as I grinned against his lips for once I thought I would have control but I was wrong.

I gasped throwing my head back in surprise as I felt him bring down his hand on my ass, his eyes darkened as I brought my face back to his "don't think ill give you control that easily did you" he chuckled his hands gripped my ass making me shudder and sigh in slight pain he chuckled again bring his face to my neck his lips attaching to my skin.

He kissed my neck and slowly move his way down to the tops of my covered breasts he pulled a but back his eyes staring at me "take it off" he breathed out I whined as he took his hands off of me "take.... it .... off" he muttered and I nodded eagerly and slowly grabbed the hem of my pj shirt and pulled it over my head, he groaned as my breast fell out of the shirt and he eagerly moved his hands from my butt to my breasts grabbing and squeezing them firmly.

"So gorgeous" he grumbled before reattaching his lips to my skin this time he wrapped his lips around my nipple his teeth bearingly grazing it causing me to shudder, he pulled away with a 'pop' before moving onto the next was giving it the same treatment as the first "r-robbie" I whined biting my lip, he smirked pulling away "that's my name don't wear it out" he murmured making me rolling my eyes and groan.

"Just fuck me already" I whined again my hands moving to clasp his shoulders, he layed a few kisses along my collar bone before speaking "anything for you cutie" he winked up at me, he slowly stood up his hands still on my ass making it so I had to wrapped my thighs around him, he pressed his lips to mine again as he moved across the apartment in slow steps.

I huffed and tightened my legs around him bringing my core against his bulge, he cursed loudly and pressed me up against the wall "naughty naughty" he teased and slowly released me and let me stand on the ground his body still caged my own, "take it off" this time he was referring to the pj shorts I was wearing, he too started to pull off his clothes his eyes never leaving my hands as the grabbed the hem of my shorts and pushing them just enough so they fell to my feet.

He sucked in a breath as he dropped his clothes to the floor, he grabbed one of my thighs and brought it up to his waist as his other hand grabbed his cock, his eyes stared into mine as he slowly slid the head up and down my slit "take it cutie" he whispered and pushed his cock into my entrance.

I gasped my nails dug into his shoulders as I squeezed my eyes shut "fuck your tight" he huffed the hand that was holding his cock went to the wall surrporting him as he slowly started to move, I whined at the movement of his cock inside as he moved in and out his pants and breathes turned into soft groans as moans.

He moved his head to the crook ofmy neck his labored breaths fanning over my skin "you sound so cute" he groaned as he increased his powerful strokes, the force of his thrusts making me moan as it pushed me further into the wall.

I pushed my head back against the wall, opening my mouth to letout my moans, Robbie took this chance to attach his lips to my neck again but this time sucking harshly definitely leaving a few marks.

My legs quivered as I felt myself get closer to my climax, the waves of pleasure making my eyes roll, I clenched around him making him groan and growl "cumming" he hissed as he did a few more thrusts before pressing inside me releasing his seed painting my insides white, I yelled out in pleasure as I cam after him.

My legs buckled underneath me and Robbie almost let me fall but caught me before I hit the floor "easy cutie, I can't afford to damage you a single bit" he chuckled still breathing heavily, Robbie slowly pulled me back into my arms and helping me to my bed and going to grab afew things to clean me up, my eyes began to flutter and a few yawns let my lips as I began to fall asleep.

"The perfect little cutie, your adorable when you sleep don't worry ill be right here when you wake up, sleep tight cutie love ya"

[infinityerlingx]

Relax

pairing - erling haaland x (fem)reader

plot - after long weeks of endless training and games, erling needs your attention more than ever

genre - fluff !!

It had been a carnage of games and training ever since the World Cup, Erling having one day a week to do nothing and he took them days for granted. Today was no different, yesterday scoring 5 goals against Leipzig, then having to be in training the morning after, he couldn’t wait to come home and relax. You had both celebrated his goals a little extra the night of the match once you had both gotten home, Erling falling straight to sleep afterwards, he was worn out.

You woke up today with Erling already gone to training, leaving you in the warmth of the bed. You took a few moments to wake yourself up, before getting out of bed and getting ready for the day. You had plans today with the girls, but a nagging thought in the back of your head told you to cancel, your thoughts being stuck on Erling.

You knew he needed to take the rest of the day to relax. You messaged your friends letting them know you’d have to cancel and you’d make up for it next time, before heading to the wardrobe and getting yourself changed.

You wanted to surprise Erling when he got home, with a chilled afternoon, cuddles on the sofa, a movie on in the living room. You had it all planned out. He was due back home in 2 hours, giving you time to go out and get a few snacks for the day.

Leaving the house, you had in your head Erling’s favourite snacks, you head to the nearest shop, picking up the bits that you knew he liked, and ones for yourself. Before walking back to the apartments. You took your time with cleaning the living room and getting it all set up cosy for his return. A few candles lit and a blanket draped over the end of the sofa. The snacks set out on the kitchen island.

By the time you had finished you checked the clock and Erling would be getting home anytime soon. You quickly turned on the tv, clicking onto Netflix and letting the title screen load up.

You were stood in the kitchen when you heard the door open, followed by a thud to the floor, which you knew was his bag.

You popped the kettle on, before turning to make your way to the front door, Erling stood with his back to you, taking his jacket off and placing it on the coat hook next to him.

“Hey you” You spoke softly, stepping closer to his body, your arms wrapping around him.

“Hello baby” He replied, turning in your embrace, pulling you into him. “Missed you” He whispered before leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away a short moment later, resting his head in the crook of your neck, completely relaxing under your touch.

“You okay, my love?” You questioned quietly, yours hand coming up to rest on his head.

“Mm, tired” He mumbled, nuzzling his head ever closer into your skin.

“How about, you go get yourself changed and I’ll get a brew ready for you?” You asked him, in which his arms squeezed you in response, he mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before letting you go and heading for the stairs. You had just enough time to finish sorting the room out, whilst the kettle finished off boiling. You grabbed two mugs and began making the tea.

It took everything in Erling not to get straight into bed, trudging around the bedroom, getting himself changed into his comfy clothes, before heading back down the stairs to join you.

His jaw dropped when he saw what you had done for him, the lights switched off, the candles you had lit casting a soft glow around the room. You wandered into the room, two steaming mugs in your hands, placing them down onto the coffee table.

“Thought you’d need a relaxing afternoon” You smiled at the man who stood at the door. “Come get yourself comfy love” Erling didn’t need telling twice, he walked over to the sofa in the matter of 5 seconds, hee sat himself down in the corner of the L-shaped sofa. You took your seat next to him, pulling the blanket from the other end, passing it straight to him. Erling took the blanket from you, however didn’t cover himself with it yet. His arms opening up for you to come and join him.

“Can you come cuddle me please” His voice was quiet which was unusual for your large boyfriend. You nodded with a small smile before going to join him. You sat yourself down on his lap, resting your head on his chest, he was quick to wrap his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him, as if you’d fade away if he let loose on you. You reached for the remote, turning on a series that you and Erling were currently watching.

After a while, Erling got up to use the toilet, and you got yourself comfy once again, sitting in the corner of the sofa, stretching your legs out. Erling came back not even 2 minutes later, getting back on the sofa, however this time he lay on the other side, his head finding home in your lap, legs outstretched in the opposite direction to yours, your hand instantly found his hair, releasing it from the confinement of the bobble, running your fingers through the soft strands.

“I love you kjære, thank you for this” Erling spoke softly, turning his head and placing a kiss on your thigh. Sighing in content as you played with his hair more, fingernails scratching softly at his scalp.

“I love you Erling, go to sleep lovely, I’ll still be here when you wake up” You spoke, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his temple. Erling didn’t need to hear you say anymore, his eyes fluttering shut, his arm rested atop of your thighs next to his head, and with that he had drifted off to sleep, the brews and the tv show long forgotten.

[archiveoftara]

Are you okay?

Tag : @hufflepuff1619

AU: My first request one shot fic. I hope I did justice. Reader's first case and Lockwood makes sure the reader is alright. Hope you like it!!

"Are you okay?"

You looked at the boy, standing at the door, concern painted all over his face.  

"I'm fine." You hid your nervousness. 

You were sitting in the living room of an agency called Lockwood and Co. Involuntarily shaking your knees. Your mind was running a thousand miles per second. This was your first case, it's normal to be nervous. 

You got this job last week. You came from a small town with nothing but a rapier and a dream. You first discovered your talent when you were seven years old. 

You were playing in the field with your friends when you touched a tree and saw a man hanging from it. That's when you discovered you have talent.

Also, It was a horrifying thing for a kid to see but it intrigued you, instead. Since then, you wanted to be an agent. 

Anyways, it's almost time to leave for work. Lockwood calls your name, breaking your train of thoughts. 

"Hi," Lockwood muttered.

"Hey.." 

"are you..okay?"

"I'm okay but I'm nervous." 

"I could tell. It's normal to be nervous. I was too, when I got my first job." 

Really?"

He nods, not leaving your eyes. You gave him a smile. You don't have a choice but to be confident. You don't want to lose this job

"Ah home for tonight." George sighed while settling the bags. 

"We still have half an hour in our hands. Fancy some tea?" You asked. You received some enthusiastic nods as a response and made yourself to the kitchen.

You pop the kettle and settle on the counter. You closed your eyes and touched a few items in the kitchen, looking for some clues.

"Find anything?" Lockwood peeks inside the kitchen.

"Not yet" 

When you opened your eyes, you found Lockwood making tea and handed you a cup. You sipped your tea, content with the warmth it gives to your heart. One thing you love about Portland Row is the tea. Lockwood makes the best tea but you can't reveal this to anyone. If George finds out he will be pissed off, he takes pride in his culinary skills.

"Shall we?" Lockwood gives you his hand.

"We shall." 

It was harder than you thought. The visitor is strong and fast for some reason. You and Lockwood are trying to fight off the visitor while George and Lucy are looking for the source.

"WATCH OUT." 

You dodged and swung your rapier on the Ghost. "Lockwood, I don't think there's only one visitor." 

Before he could process you pushed him to the corner and threw a salt bomb on the ghost which was standing behind him. Lockwood was startled for a moment but he regained his composure.

Soon, both of you were fighting off the visitors in such ease, it's like a dance routine. It's like you both are meant to be together. 

"WE FOUND" 

You heard Lucy from across the room.

"Take your time to secure it, no pressure." With a dash of sarcasm you swung your rapier for the last time. It was gone. The visitors disappeared, the room went quiet. You can only hear your heavy breathing. 

You tried to stand but you fell on your knees, you felt a sharp pain in your waist. You touched it and felt warm blood oozing from your wound. 

"(Name),are you okay?" Lockwood gave you his shoulder, pulling you off the floor.

"I don't remember how..i hurt myself." 

"Don't talk right now. I'll patch you up, hold on." 

You're back in your room, sitting in your bed watching Lockwood practically running around the house. Looking for a med kit. You shook your head in exhaustion. 

"Lockwood I'm fine." 

The rustling stopped for a moment, you thought maybe he left and went outside the house but you were met with heavy footsteps.

"Fine?" 

You looked up with your droopy tired eyes. You saw Lockwood taking a seat in front of you.

"You're far from fine." He grimly said. "May I?" He gestured to your shirt. Silently asking to remove it. You nod in response. 

He helped you take it off, he didn't meet your eyes and you also felt the wall beside you looked interesting. He silently cleaned up your wound, muttering in his breath. 

You felt the tension inside the room so high, you might die from lack of oxygen. "You scared me." 

You looked at him in astonishment. "Lockwood.."

"If you say 'fine' one more time, I won't talk to you" he huffed. It made you smile. 

He's so cute

"I'm sorry. I should've protected you better."

"It's not your responsibility to protect me, Lockwood" 

"It's my name written on the door. It's my responsibility to protect my employees" 

You couldn't figure out why the word 'employee' hurt you a little. 

After patching you up, he sat beside you. 

"You saved me but I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry." He looked so guilty it broke your heart.

"I'm sorry. I'll be more careful next time" you gave a reassuring smile to him. 

You both remain quiet for a while, silently enjoying each other's company. 

"Does it hurt?" 

" Yeah a little, but I'll be alright soon. I think I'll just lay down a bit." 

"Oh yes, yes." He helped you lay on the bed. He tucked you in, literally. You blushed at his actions. 

"Are you really fine?" 

"Lockwood for the love of God, I am fine. Please don't worry so much." You cried.

"I..was just making sure you're okay. Jesus." Nonchalantly, he replied. 

He got out of your room and closed the door only to open it again. 

"Are you okay, name?" This time he's just annoying you. 

You threw a pillow at his face but before it hits him, he shuts the door and laughs mischievously. You smiled to yourself and went to deep slumber.

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2024 - Day 3: Tempest [in a Mark XIV Thermocoil Boilmaster]

(inspired simultaneously way too literally and way too loosely by the idiom, "tempest in a teapot")

“You would give me instructions?” Tataru Taru’s incredulous laughter rang throughout the hall. “I assure you, Wedge, this receptionist has brewed more than a few pots of tea in her time.”

Wedge’s face went red as he feared she had taken offense. “N-no, that’s not it at all… it is just…”

“Now, now, no need for all that. Why don’t you have yourself a seat and I’ll just pop this over the fire.”

“NO!” he cried out suddenly, in a strength of tone few had ever heard from the anxious engineer. The bustling activity in the Rising Stones’ common room ground to a halt, startled at his outburst. Everyone turned to look at him. One could have heard the drop of a pin.

The crimson in Wedge’s face deepened.

Tataru took it seriously. She stopped. She gave him a confused glance. Wedge offered a shy little wave to the rest of the Scions, hoping to encourage them to return to their own business. Thankfully, they did.

“It is not ornamental, is it?” Tataru asked him, as the room went back to normal.

Wedge sighed a breath of relief. “No. It is not ornamental—it is magitek.”

“Is it indeed? Fancy that! But… Magitek? In a kettle?”

“I call it the Mark XIV Thermocoil Boilmaster,” he replied, puffing out his chest.

“Oh, so it is of your own design then? Most impressive!” Tataru exclaimed, her smile purposefully concealing her ongoing confusion at what the point of it was. “And… you can’t put it over the fire?”

“Er. No. Not for very long, anyway. Not if you want it to function again.”

“I see…”

“But that’s just the thing!” he continued. “With the Mark XIV Thermocoil Boilmaster, you don’t even need the fire.”

“...It brews the tea cold?”

“What? No. It brews it hot. That is what the magitek is for. See here? This mechanism draws on the aether of a fire shard, which then travels through these coils along the bottom of the kettle. The whole thing will set to boiling in only a minute or two, with no need for open flames or leaning over a hot stove! That means it is portable, and convenient—just fill it with water, flick this switch, and off it goes! All you’ll have to do is replace the fire shard every half-dozen moons or so.”

Now Tataru was impressed. “Oh, really? And the tea tastes the same?”

“Better, I’ll wager!” Wedge beamed. “This gauge on the side shows you precisely how hot it is, giving you the utmost precision for your particular brew.”

Tataru smiled warmly. “Well, isn’t this lovely! Thank you so much.”

He returned his own smile—a bashful one. “It just seemed to me that, well, someone who… ah… works as tirelessly as you do… deserves a little luxury or two that might make your job a little easier.”

“It is a very kind gesture, Wedge. Thank you. I look forward to getting acquainted with it.” With a friendly pat on his arm, she hurried off to find the device a new home at the Scion’s shared bar.

—---------------------------------

And it was a kind gesture. It truly was. That Wedge was too sweet sometimes for his own good.

And Tataru reminded herself of that a few days later as she labored to get the blasted machine to go.

And again the next day, when the switch jammed.

And a week after that, when she tried to figure out how she’d managed to pour a cup of tepid water over a visiting dignitary’s tea leaves.

Tataru was far from averse to learning new skills. And the Mark XIV was simple enough. 

When it worked.

Which was, to be fair, on average, more often than not. 

She only had to call Wedge in once to help her troubleshoot it (and, as it turns out, that tepid water was from the canister with the fire shard having come slightly loose). …Which was one more such occurrence than she had ever required for her secondhand, decades-old copper kettle. Not to mention all the time she spent attempting to adjust the mechanisms herself, learning its more finicky quirks, alternating blessing it or cursing it in the name of Byregot in case either of those mantras made a difference.

When the Mark XIV worked, it was a dream. When it didn’t, she wondered why people ever bothered giving up on old, reliable fireplaces for anything at all. It was just to boil water, for the gods’ sakes.

…But if that Nero was going to march into her territory and dare to call their arrangements “primitive”, then, well. That man had another thing coming.

This was the finest kettle she had ever had the pleasure to own.