#it gave me a heart attack when I saw the post

[plulp]

Offers you my PC

They're a little NERD who goes to school every day and gets good grades, but unfortunately good grades aren't enough to stop harassment

They also work at the dog pound and might enjoy their job a little too much

Ok so while posting this it didn't work and i was so scared i lost the ask but i didn't (thankfully)

but your pc is SO cute and i LOVE your art it's so cute. a little NERD more like a little AWESOME. dog pound is literally so based like i only stand for ONE (1) 4ft 10in they/he Dog Pound Extraordinaire 🫡🫡🫡🫡 i love them so much

i hope you like this!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ornament-of-rhyme]

I'm sure everyone else has seen this already, but I just learned two of the Dead Poets reunited for a Taylor Swift music video.

(Fortnight - Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone)

[hafwen]

Tumblr was this a joke or a glitch

[twotailednekomata]

The first thing I see when I turned the page from the last one is 'Joker Jr.' floating in space with a slightly disturbing face.

[patchesproblem]

Using my power wisely.

[constorfus]

Tumblr really needs a new filtering system

[leafyeyes417]

To soothe myself from my last post where it’s non-Joker hate *shudders* here have this.

————————————————————————

The first three months of Danny’s stay in Gotham had been mostly quiet. No big Rogue attacks since most of them were in Arkham. Unfortunately that had come to an end. There was a mass breakout and among them was the Joker.

Danny had made friends with a couple people, during his classes, and had met his new crush Tim at a coffee shop. He was actually with Tim when they got the news about the breakout. They had been walking out to Tim’s car so he could be driven home when it happened.

Tim’s POV

He had been talking with Danny when he saw him shudder and stop walking.

He frowned, turning towards him. “Danny? What’s wrong?” He watched as Danny paled, full body twitched, then his eyes turned a glowing red that took over his entire eyes. He snarled, face almost inhuman as he turned and booked it down the street at inhuman speeds (though nowhere near Flash speed).

Scrambling Tim jumped in his car and chased after Danny, though he quickly lost him. He grabbed his com and turned it on. “Oracle, I need you to track someone.” He quickly rattled out along with the street information and Danny’s description.

“Red Robin, report.” Batman growled out.

“I was walking with my friend back to my car after we heard the news of the breakout. On the way there he froze and then… I’m not quite sure but whatever it was I don’t think he was in control anymore.”

There was silence for a few moments on the coms. Oracle spoke, “I think I found his location. The cameras are fritzing out big time in a decent area near your location.”

When he managed to get there he was honestly a little sickened. There was body parts and blood everywhere. Joker goons, from the occasional mask lying around. Swallowing he ventured deeper into the zone, having to turn off his coms due to the screeching interference.

When he finally set his eyes on Danny it was to see him arm deep into the Joker’s chest. He paused, watching as the Joker’s body fell to the floor, his heart still in Danny’s hand. He watched as Danny’s eyes stopped glowing red and he swayed, dropping the heart to bring a hand to his head.

“Danny?” He asked hesitantly.

Danny turned, a hazy expression on his face. “Tim?” He slurred out.

Quickly making his way over he managed to prevent Danny from toppling over, grimacing at the blood now coating his hand. He noticed the other bats and birds arriving on scene out of the corner of his eye, but stayed focused on Danny. “Let’s get you out of here.” He said gently as he guided Danny out of the area.

Later, after he had managed to get Danny some water and a bit of food, he asked, “Do you remember what happened, Danny?” His friend looked down at his blood covered hands. “I remember walking to your car when it was like I was being grabbed by a bunch of hands and I couldn’t move. Then… it almost felt like I was being stuffed into a box or something and everything was hazy and indistinct after that. I tried fighting it but it like catching smoke. Then I was being released but it was like I had no energy. I know you called my name but I don’t recall much until after you gave me the energy bar.”

Tim frowned, glancing at Black Bat. He saw her sign “true” and nodded. Looks like they might have to call the JLD on this one.

[muddi-gutz]

interesting that tumblr takes people youve unliked stuff from and puts them in the favs tab

[damiansgoodgirll]

Jude being clingy and wanting reader to hold him

jude bellingham x reader

clingy

“jude please…i gotta do a lot of things today” you said trying to stand up from the bed but jude’s hands wouldn’t leave your body.

“no…” he mumbled into your neck.

“jude…” you almost begged him.

“five more minutes please…then i’ll let you go” he whispered half asleep and you knew you couldn’t say no to that.

“okay…just five more minutes…” and of course, five more minutes turned into an hour as you fell asleep once again. you almost ended up sleeping all morning and when you woke up again you almost had a heart attack seeing how late it was.

you violently moved jude’s body away from yours and you stood up.

you heard jude groaning but you didn’t care.

the house was a mess as you and jude just came back from a weekend in greece and you left your suitcases all over the living room. you needed to buy some food because you had only a few things left, you needed to go to the post office to send a few packages and you needed to clean the house a little and of course, waking up almost at lunch time didn’t make it easy for you to do all of that.

“come back to bed…” jude slightly opened his eyes when he heard noises coming from the bathroom.

“nope! now you get up and you help me with the house…first of all take your luggage away from the living room cause i have to wash the floor” you said exiting the bathroom.

“later…i’m tired…and you should come back to bed with me, i wanna cuddle” he gave you his puppy look and you almost came back to bed, almost.

jude got up too when he saw you leaving the bedroom and he followed you like a puppy. he moved his luggage back to the bedroom but he stayed with you the whole time you cleaned the floor, he watched every movement you made.

he watched as you unpacked your clothes and put them in the washing machine. he didn’t leave your side when you were cooking lunch for the two of you and he even helped you setting the table.

but once he was done, his hands came back to your waist as he laid his head in the crook of your neck.

“jude…”

“you smell good” he said leaving a soft kiss to your neck.

“nah…it’s probably the food” you joked.

you both ate together but the moment you stood up to clean the dishes, jude did it first and ran to the sink.

“you know it’s not a challenge right…” you teased him.

“i know but when the dishes are done we can cuddle on the couch so i want to do them quickly…” he said giving you the puppy eyes once again.

“we have to go buy some food at the market” you told him but he said no.

“we can go tomorrow and take out tonight…please” he begged you.

so when the dishes were done, jude practically grabbed and threw you on the couch.

“hold me please…” he whispered as he laid his head over your stomach. it wasn’t really often that jude would be clingy like that but everything he searched for your warmth you couldn’t help but melt.

[heavenbarnes]

Do not go gentle

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: illusions to reader suffering "some" attack earlier, nightmares, reader and hotch are goofy idiots, inappropriate boss/employee relationship, unprotected pinv sex, dirty talk, pulling out, splash the back, mentions of m!masturbation, swearing, blasphemy, hotch has a size kink if you squint.

Word Count: 4.7k

Can you believe it? I've finally posted Hotch smut? I recently picked CM back up again and turns out he's still irresistible. Enjoy this, I did.

You'd only been back a week, after having two off, and Hotch already wanted to see you in his office.

This normally wasn't a cause for concern, usually you actually liked seeing Hotch in his office. Usually because it was for praise, he'd remark good work you'd done or feed you back something good he'd heard about you from another department.

It was also in that low, calm voice and he'd always have a hint of a smile working it's way to the surface.

But this time it'd be different.

You'd been off for two weeks and everyone was worried it wasn't enough. You'd been, quite literally, through hell and back and nobody wanted to push you too hard to get back into the field.

But you'd reassured Strauss, reassured everyone, that this was the best thing for you. You'd been going stir crazy on your couch in your little apartment, watching everything the TV had on offer.

You needed to get back into things, you needed to get back to helping people.

So you made the slow ascent up to Hotch's office and quietly knocked on the door, feeling it slowly swing open against your hand. He looked up from his desk, eyes connecting with yours and his brow raising slightly.

"You wanted to see me, sir?

He waved you in with his hand, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, doing your best to relax back into things and not let him know how nervous this had made you.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

You smiled, only gently with your gaze picking out flaws in the carpet of Hotch’s office. Nodding slightly, you lifted your head to lock eyes with him.

“Good, actually,” That was honest but you could tell he was a little hesitant to accept it. “I’m glad to be back with everyone and making some difference.”

“And how are you sleeping?” Clear and level headed as ever.

You hesitated, it was only a second but there was no getting past him. You knew you had to be honest now.

“Not well, that's only when I finally get to sleep, and when I do I’m right back there again.”

Hotch’s expression was as hard to read as ever but you could see a hint of sympathy? Sadness? Concern?

“And are you seeing a therapist?”

“I am! She’s great, she says the best way through it is to keep living until I have enough good memories to replace those ones.”

You thought there may have been a hint of a smile on his face but it was gone as quick as you saw it.

“If there is anything I can do to help you, just ask- or call.”

You gave him a smile, an earnest one and you nodded as you spoke. “I will, thank you, Sir.”

That went better than you expected. He didn't want to recall you back to the office for desk work, he was just checking in. You found yourself back to feeling how you normally did when you left his office.

Not really wanting to go.

-

Your apartment was dead quiet, you couldn't even hear the usual hum of your fridge as you left the bathroom. Your home was darker than you were used to, the moonlight struggling to get through the windows.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you felt the unmistakable air of company. Something was telling you that you weren't alone in the darkness. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your fingers reached for the light switch.

So close, you were so close when you suddenly felt a strong grasp wrap around your wrist-

Awakening with a scream, you felt your heart fight it's way out of your chest. Your neighbours would probably be leaving another not-so-passive note in your mailbox about this.

Sitting up on the couch, you found your lights still on and your TV still playing some mindless background noise. Another nightmare taking your sleep right from you when you needed it most.

Your cellphone lay on your coffee table in front of you, black screen staring back at you. Mulling it over in your head, you weighed up your options.

On one hand, he quite literally said to call if you needed him. But on the other, he probably just said it as a courtesy, something everyone says.

Either way, before you could really talk yourself out of it- you were dialing Hotch’s number and pressing your phone to your ear.

Zoning out a little at the dial tone, you were quickly snapped back by the sound of his voicemail service, a robotic voice asking you to leave him a message.

It all happened too quickly, your lips were firing off before you could stop yourself.

“Ah- oh God- uh sorry, I’m sorry this is- oh it’s actually me by the way. I’m sorry I called it’s just- I uh had a nightmare. That sounds really lame now that I’m saying this and I really shouldn’t have called- uh I realise now you didn’t pick up because you’ve got a life or you're sleeping- but I'm not and I uh- shit-sorry- Sir, this might be a record for the world’s most pathetic voicemail so maybe take this to a museum- or to a lab to have me tested because what the hell is this- anyway- shit- sorry again and enjoy your night- see you at work tomorrow morning, please- uh please don’t mention this or I will have to go into hiding. Anyways- good night- sorry.”

Hanging up after the message, you threw your phone at the couch and watched it bounce off the cushions and onto the rug. Stuffing your palms into your eyes you let out a pained groan.

“Please throw your phone into the ocean!” You begged, getting up from the couch. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

You had almost forgotten the cringiest voicemail known to man. With how focused you were on perfecting this terrible boxed mac and cheese, your mind was nearly elsewhere.

Just as you’d managed to find a bit of peace, a knock at your front door made you jump out of your skin. Doing your best to calm yourself down, you brought your bowl of macaroni with you to the front door to investigate.

One eye to the peep hole, the minute you saw the person on the other side- your heart dropped. Slowly twisting the lock, you pulled the door back to reveal one Aaron Hotchner.

A very cozy looking Aaron Hotchner.

“Sir-“

“I got your message, you had another nightmare?”

Your words got trapped up in your throat before you could get them out. “Uh yeah.”

“What about? Are you okay”

Clearing your throat, you did your best to focus your gaze on him, remind yourself that you were here- safe in your apartment and not back there.

“Same old, I’m alone in the dark and then suddenly- he’s there.”

There was that expression on Hotch’s face again, this time you were sure it was concern, genuine concern. It was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry this keeps happening to you.”

Just as you were about to brush it off, pretend like it wasn’t driving you crazy, you could see a faint smile appearing as he kept speaking.

“I couldn’t find a museum that'd accept your voicemail but I did find a 24 hour convenience store with ice cream.”

He lifted the bag in his right hand and you could faintly see the tub through the plastic. “Is that cookies? That’s my-“

“Your favourite, yeah it is- do you mind sharing?”

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks as you nodded, quickly realising you’d been having this whole conversation in the hallway.

“Oh yeah, come in- get out of my hallway would you?”

Hotch laughed, quietly, but he still laughed as he walked in. He went straight to the kitchen as you hovered by the couch.

“I can even share my gross looking boxed mac and cheese if you ask nicely.”

That got the rest of the laugh out of him, smiling over his shoulder as he made himself at home in your kitchen. Trying to give yourself something to do, you picked up the TV remote.

“Sorry, the TV’s just been on as background noise but we could watch a movie- only if you want- I don’t even know how long you-“

Thankfully, Hotch cut you off again. “I’d love to watch a movie, as long as it isn’t a cartoon, with dinosaurs or superheroes.”

As he rounded the couch and passed you a bowl of ice cream, you looked up at him with an incredulous expression on your face.

“I literally just rented ‘cartoon dinosaur superheroes’, what the hell?"

Your face broke out in a grin before you could even finish your dumb joke and it had an instant effect on Hotch.

“Yeah well, I preferred the TV series- it went into much more detail.”

Spoon in your mouth, you shot a look at your usually-very-serious boss. You weren’t used to seeing this many smiles- let alone hearing this many jokes from the man.

“Which one was your favourite? The green one?” You pushed the corny little joke a little further.

He glanced back in your direction as he lifted his own spoon to his lips. “I liked the one that put out fires.”

Immediately a grin broke out across your face as you couldn't contain your giggles. You quieted down to a hum as you nodded at his quip. “There totally would be one that put out fires.”

Leaning back into your couch, you picked up your feet to lean them on your coffee table.

“You can put your feet up by the way, I don’t mind.”

As quickly as you said it, Hotch was reaching out a long arm to wave at your legs. “I do, get your feet off the table.”

Looking at him in (slight) faux-shock, you shook your head as he did his best to fight off an impending chuckle.

“Excuse me? This is my house!”

Hotch’s smile only grew. “Hardly a house, it’s a living room with a bed in the back of it.”

Stunned expression painted across your face, a series of unintelligible noises fell past your lips as it was your turn to try not to laugh.

“Alright then, next time I have a trauma induced nightmare then I’ll be coming to your house.”

“Perfect, I’ll have the boxed macaroni cheese and dinosaurs.”

“Great, and I’ll pick apart every stylistic choice you’ve ever made in.”

Hotch finished off another spoonful of ice cream as he shrugged. “I think you’ll find I’m a very skilled interior decorator.”

You cocked your head towards him, eyes narrowed as you played on the bit. “Suuuurely not?”

“I am, and don’t call me Shirley.”

Eyes wide in excitement as he said the words, you couldn’t believe Aaron Hotchner was a certified funny-guy. Your stoic boss, your always knowing what to say, what to do, boss. You quickly reached for the TV remote off the table as the next thought struck you.

“That’s the one, I wonder if they're streaming Airplane!”

It wasn’t like you even lasted the first 20 minutes before you fell asleep. You felt so warm, so cozy, so at peace that you hadn’t even realised you were drifting off until you did.

Hotch didn’t mind either, just happy to see you finally sleeping. His right arm stayed firmly around your side as your cheek and hand laid against his chest, snoring only quietly.

He smiled from above you, tilting his neck just enough to gently rest his chin against the top of your head.

That night you dreamed, for the first time in weeks. You were in your apartment, but the lights were shining and the moon had cast a glow over the room. You could tell you weren’t alone, you felt the company, but you couldn't find it to be scared.

Somebody else was in your apartment and he remembered your favourite ice cream.

-

As you rushed through the door of the conference room, all eyes switched from the round table fell on you. Within an instant, heat was rising up your cheeks.

“Nice of you to join us.” Morgan teased as you slipped into a seat next to Spencer.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, scrambling to grab some of the files in front of you. “Slept in.”

A simple sentence quieted everyone back down as expressions softened across all of them.

“Slept?” JJ asked quietly, full attention on you. “You’re sleeping again?”

A smile cracked at the corner of your lips, nodding gently as you tried to keep your head down. “Yeah, first time in weeks last night.”

Everyone let you off the hook after that, it was all back to work and start filing the reports from the last case. As you all shuffled out to head back to your desks, you heard a voice behind you call your name.

Leaving just you and Hotch in the room, you felt that same heat creep right back up your neck. You stepped over towards him, only bringing yourself to meet his eyes once you were right in front of him.

“Sir, listen, about last night-“

“I’m sorry,” He stopped your babbling before you could even start. “I was out of line.”

Not what you were expecting. This morning had been hazy, Hotch slipping out with a sore neck from sleeping upright. You not even waking as he left.

But this was still-

“I shouldn’t have let myself get as close as I did,” He continued, his tone back to as professional as always. “It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?”

Hotch couldn’t bare the look on your face. Eyes dropping in confusion and bottom lip daring to wobble. He had to steel himself, he had to walk out of that room before he did something that'd cost his career.

-

He'd completely closed down any chance for the two of you. You'd sort-of-kind-of resigned yourself to the fact it was never going to happen, but having it come crashing down right in front of you hurt more than you'd expected.

You didn't realise that you'd designated a space to him in the centre of your chest until you felt it break. Thinking back on it now, it will completely foolish to think your boss would ever dare to pursue anything with you.

But there was last night.

You'd woken briefly, just the once, and you'd felt his arm around your waist. You'd heard the beat of his heart just under your ear. You could've sworn you'd felt him press his lips against the top of your head.

That was all said and done now. If you'd known it was your only chance, you probably would've held onto it for just a little longer. You thought a hot shower after a long day would help to dissipate your feelings, but you still felt it weighing heavy on your mind.

Shuffling to the kitchen, you decided there was no other choice but to get on with things. What'd your therapist said? Keep moving forward until you have more good memories to replace the other ones?

Besides, you'd gotten on just fine before, without him. There was no reason for this to change anything.

Even after you knew how it felt to fall asleep beside him.

Swinging open the box freezer, you scanned the shelf for something to eat before your eyes fell on the scene of the crime. Last night's ice cream stared back at you with cruel intent.

You decided you'd make a spectacle of it, retrieving it from the freezer to stab a spoon right through the middle of it. The first mouthful stung, the rest was just...ice cream.

Dragging your feet towards the couch, you were nearly close enough to collapse into comfort when a knock at the door sent a fright through you that you'd never get used to. Cautiously, you pressed your eye back to the peep hole and screwed up your face in confusion.

"Sir?" You asked as the door swung open, finding Hotch back in that same place on your doorstep.

"Listen, I'm sorry-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "You really don't have to be. Like you said, it shouldn't have happened."

You'd been hesitant to look him in the eye as you spoke, roaming the spotted ceiling of your apartment hall instead. But as you shifted to catch his eyes, you found him- preocupied.

Hotch's eyes trailed further down, serious expression fixed to his features as his eyes moved to your legs. Only when you went to follow his gaze did you realise.

You'd answered the door fresh out the shower. Skin still a little damp, only in a t-shirt and a thin pair of panties.

You were standing in front of your boss in next to nothing.

And he looked like he wanted to eat you whole (he did).

He managed to clear his throat, to tear his eyes off your body and back to your face. Mustering up the courage, tensing his fists and relaxing his shoulders, he began speaking before he could think.

"I am sorry and I need to say it. I overstepped a boundary here and I put my own feelings for you over everything else and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable-"

"Hotch-"

"I thought I was fine with keeping this in my head and I never wanted to-"

"Hotch-"

"But I just need to tell you that this wont change anything with-"

"Sir."

Finally, your interjection managed to cut through and he stopped himself. "Hotch, you've never asked me what I actually want."

His features softened a tiny amount, his fists unfurling as he willed himself to relax the rest of himself. "What do you want?"

Taking a long stride towards him, you found yourself nearly chest to chest with the man. Your hand gently ran his tie through your fingers, twisting a little to grasp it for leverage.

"You."

Hotch sucked in a deep breath, his head tilted towards you but his eyes closed. "Please don't say that."

You looked up at him from under your lashes, finding him slowly opening his eyes to watch you move even closer to him.

"Got no reason to lie to you, sir."

You heard his breath catch in his throat as Hotch moved his hands, until they were just and only resting on your hips. You felt the heat radiating off his large palms, closing in until they spanned across your lower back.

"I really shouldn't do this." His voice was a hush, he was still trying to talk himself out.

Not like you were going to let him.

"Then let me."

Closing the space between the two you, your lips pressed against the hard line of his until he opened up for you. You lead things just long enough for him to get comfortable, falling into motion and his tongue pushing forward into your mouth.

His hands tightened, gripping onto your waist like he might lose you if he let you go. Walking you back into your apartment, he blindly kicked his leg back to shut the door. Surging forward, he had the backs of your thighs against the arm of the couch.

Pulling back to take a look at you, his eyes moved to you swollen lips. His thumb came up to brush against your lower lip, gently gripping it between his fingers.

"Pretty, pretty girl," He sighed, you could feel his thigh slotting between your legs. "Such a good girl."

You couldn't stop it, the heady little moan that fell from your mouth at his words. Mixed with the soft feeling of his suit pants pressing to your core, undoubtedly you were leaving some kind of mess on the expensive trousers.

Hotch flexed his thigh, enjoying the feeling of you grinding yourself against his leg like a desperate slut. He watched as you tipped your head back, exposing the column of your throat to him.

Ducking his head, he pressed his lips in a line down your neck and biting gently at the join of your shoulder. "Get up on the couch."

His voice was a rumble in his chest, but there was a command in there that had you moving without being told twice. You went to sit down on it, but Hotch caught you and spun you slightly till you were falling onto the cushions on your knees.

Arms slung over the back of the couch and ass pointed out, you looked back over your shoulders with hazy eyes. Hotch slipped his suit jacket off, throwing it across a chair as he started to roll up his sleeves.

It was so simple, such an easy move but it had an effect on you like nothing else. His strong arms came into view and the veins on his hands flexed as he rolled the fabric. You could feel the damp spot growing on your panties.

This was a different Hotch than the one that stayed over the other night. This was closer to the one that sat behind his desk, stoic and unshakeable. Part of you knew the desperation that was hiding behind the stern look on his face.

You two really had one shot at this. The voice in the back of your head was telling you to enjoy this, it'd never happen again.

Snapping you from your thoughts, you felt two long fingers run up the length of your cunt. Even through the thin fabric of your underwear, you could feel his rough grasp as he gently began to rub at your clit.

Your head lolled forward, a gasp sounding from your chest as you backed your hips towards his touch. As he slid your panties to the side, fingers now running right through your wetness, you could hear the sound of him drawing down his fly.

"I've tried so hard- from the moment I met you-" The words fell from his lips, his knee coming up on the couch to get closer. "I've thought about this moment every night."

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, feeling his firm chest press to your back as his words spurred you on. You could picture it in your mind, your boss in the shower, alone in his bed- his hand fisting at his cock as he thought of you.

Pretty you, sweet and kind you. Always the first to do what he says, to look at him with those glassy eyes and say "yes, sir." To him, this was inevitable.

It was only ever a matter of time.

Swiping up the slick from between your legs, you looked back quickly to see him running it across the head of his cock. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing the size of him as he dragged his hand down the length of it.

"Fuck- that's big."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud. Hotch chuckled as your words, his brows raising slightly as he did.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," He cooed, lining himself up with your entrance. "We'll make it fit."

Your eyes squeezed shut and a drawn out, frankly pornographic, moan fell out. Hotch groaned deep in his chest as he sunk into you, feeling the tight grip of your soaking cunt.

Feeling the press of his lips on your shoulder blade, he made it in fully before he stilled. He was giving you a moment, letting you catch your breath despite the ever-present need to absolutely wreck you.

Reaching back, you franticly tapped at his hip. Quiet pleas of "move, please move" filling the space around you. He was kind, he gave you exactly what you needed as he began to roll his hips into yours.

One of his hands firmly held your hip, the other ran underneath your t-shirt so he could grip at your chest. He cupped one of your breasts, rolling it round in his large palm as he groaned into the crook of your neck.

"God- you feel so good, sweetheart."

You whimpered for him, a pathetic whine sounding from you as you bucked your hips back against him. The hand on your hip began to slip forward, fingers coming around to rub against your clit.

From the speed in which he was fucking into you, the frantic movements of his fingers, the clip of his breath- he was trying hard to hold on. He was doing whatever he could to keep his cool but he was finding it increasingly difficult.

The prettiest girl he'd ever laid his eyes on, the subject of all his inappropriate desires was knelt in front of him. You were somehow tighter than he'd dreamed, somehow sounded sweeter than he'd imagined.

You were calling out his name, chants of "Aaron, fuck, Aaron-" that were no doubt slinking through the thin walls of this apartment and keeping the neighbours up.

He didn't care, he'd get you to tell the whole fucking city if he could. When you felt this good, when you looked this pretty for him? He'd throw his whole career to the fucking wind if it meant he got to do this whenever he wanted.

Maybe- maybe not that far. But Hotch wasn't really in the position to be thinking logically right now. Not when you were turning back over your shoulder to capture his lips, moaning straight down his throat as he continued to sink his hips into you.

"Fuck- you're so deep, sir."

Hotch could've come right then, there was no way he could keep it together when you were saying it like that. He knew good and well that this is why this was never meant to happen.

How was he meant to go back to work and deal with you calling him that, when he's heard just how good it could sound?

He sped up his fingers, messy circles rubbing at your clit as your whole body began to tense. He felt your back arching, pushing back into his chest as you cried out.

"God- I'm gonna'- Aaron- I'm gonna' cum-" Was all you could manage before you clenched around him.

Suddenly, your vice grip released and you were falling limp against the couch with a whimper. Hotch fucked you through it, feeling the shocks wracking your body as he drew out your orgasm as long as he could.

Hotch watched over you, seeing the blissed out expression on your face as you came for him. He looked down to see the way your cunt fluttered around him, a wet mess left on the shaft of his cock.

Taking mental note, he knew that he'd never be able to forget this. His one chance to have you like this, to hold you and feel you gripped around him. The sight of you took over him, his hips stuttering as he gripped hard on your hips.

You opened your eyes just in time to see his head tipped back, strong arms and chest straining against his dress shirt. Hotch's lips parted as a quiet moan of your name ripped from his chest.

Quickly, he slipped himself out as he stroked himself over your ass. Long fingers pulled your panties down around your thighs as hot ropes of cum painted your lower back and behind. Your eyes were growing hazier but you kept them open to watch as he did it.

You were slumped over the back of the couch, high dissipating through your body as you heard him tuck himself back into his trousers. You could hear him moving away, but soon he returned with a warm cloth against your back.

Slipping your panties back into place, he turned you around gently and settled you into his side. Right back where things had started, your sleepy body falling into him.

You both knew it, that this would be the last time. This would never go anywhere else. But there was part of you that'd become content with that, getting used to the strong beat of his heart beside your ear.

Feeling a strong hand brush against your face, this time you were sure of it. His lips pressed softly against the top of your head as you began to drift off asleep.

You knew he'd been gone again when you woke up, you'd both show up to work like all of this hadn't happened. But that was okay, you felt the sleep overtaking you- a feeling that you'd missed.

You slept absolutely soundly, for the second time in weeks.

[allisonlol]

chuuya dazai and fyodor when reader tries to remove the hickies they gave reader the next day OHKYIGOAHSS

a/n: hiii everyone i have crawled out of my void to offer you this post !! ty to the anon who came up with this wonderful idea. i've missed posting omg and we somehow are so close to 3k despite my inactivity??? slay. shall open reqs again once we get there mwehehe

warnings: slight nsfw

(Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor) When You Try to Remove Hickeys

Chuuya

he's gonna be the most chill about this tbh

it's your body and if you don't want ppl seeing that on you then that's ur choice!!

however

hiding them is one thing, but that doesn't mean he wants to see you removing them

so yknow that hack where you take a whisk and like,,,twist it over the mark to get rid of it?

yeah so you tried that...and it was actually working until chuuya barged into the room and demanded to know what you were doing

bro is not happy to see the hickies he'd proudly left on you last night being somehow removed by a WHISK

grabs that mf thing and throws it across the room

chuuya's not angry at you, more so frustrated and insecure?? cuz like why would u wanna get rid of them

he's lowkey gonna start pouting tbh. won't say anything else but will glare & give u silent treatment

won't stop until you admit the only reason u removed them is because it was too visible with your work uniform and u didn't want everyone staring smh

insist that he should give you more in areas that people won't see and there's no guarantee y'all won't be late to work <3

Dazai

oh lord

so dazai really loves to mark you up

and last night was no different. your neck was black and blue with hickies

deadass to the point where you nearly had a heart attack when you saw it in the morning

"how am i gonna go to work like this?!" you practically sob to him while he LAUGHS

his only advice is "then don't go" as if both of y'all don't need to have ur asses at the agency in 20 minutes

you check ur phone for the time and when u see this you panic and sprint to your shared bedroom

you try everything you can think of to cover them

first you hastily layer concealer on your neck, to no avail as the marks were too dark

then digging through ur closet for clothes with a high enough neckline to hide it, to which you found none

whole time dazai is leaning against the doorframe, watching ur meltdown with an amused expression

he approaches and helps u up from the floor where u had collapsed with all the clothes strewn around you ☹️

"allow me to pick out something for you to wear" ….oh god

u guys are beyond late at this point so you sigh and accept defeat, to which dazai picks a shirt that of course displays all the marks on your neck

you got lots of stares that day to say the least

Fyodor

surprisingly fyodor doesn't usually leave too many marks on you to begin with

he's got that old fashioned take where it's like "other people don't need to see that and be in our business" if u know what i mean

however, he is also a very possessive man

^so when he gets worked up and does leave hickeys on you, the last thing he wants to see is you trying to hide or remove them

which is exactly what he walked in on u doing today

you were trying the good old "rub an ice cube on it" hack before u had to work

now this mf thinks you have some hidden agenda as to why you wanted them gone

"are you seeing someone else" 💀💀

PLS u didn't realize he had been watching from the doorway and this scares u so bad u drop the ice cube down ur shirt

u start frantically trying to get it out of ur shirt while yelling at him like "i have to work, wtf are u talking about???"

u immediately stop tho when he storms up to u and grabs your face to make you look at him

his face is so cold and unreadable omg it's scary

his eyes shift to the marks on your neck as he traces over them with his fingers

"leave these alone" he says lowly, then adjusts the collar of your shirt so they are partially covered

neither of u will say anything more about it after that, but fyodor sends sigma to secretly follow u to work to make sure that's where ur really going 😓

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @mianqo

[maraxp]

                       ⚓  ♰     .     ࣪  🪨 ♡‌  ㅤ۪ㅤ    ⏖     ꒪       𓉼    

⟣ character : live action!roronoa zoro // fem!reader

⟣ synopsis : after witnessing the fight with zoro and dracule mihawk with the rest of the strawhats, you were by zoro’s side as he healed, comforting him and so on, not knowing that he was secretly listening to you.

⟣ word count : 672 words.

⟣ tags : not proofread (i’ll fix that later), strawhat!reader, female / afab reader, mentions of injury, praise, pet names “dear” and “jerk”, no use of “(y/n)”, fluff, swearing, mentions of alcohol, semi-soft! reader, comfort, eventual smut (not in this post / slow burn), will add more as the series progresses

⟣ note : yes, it is the live action zoro we all know and love. this is my first fanfiction here but it’s not my very first fic ever. english is not my first language so if i made any mistake, please let me know !

it scared you. the fight between roronoa and that mihawk guy scared you, and you didnt know why.

was it because of the fear eating your mind when you saw roronoa’s huge gash on his chest? was it remembering zoro asking to duel mihawk to “fight to the death” while you secretly doubted that he was going to lose? probably both.

when luffy rushed to search for help, you stared at zoro laid out on the ground. you weren’t disappointed, you weren’t disgusted either. you were afraid that he was going to die from how deep the wound was.

when he was brought in, your heart was racing. you didn’t know that zoro being severely injured would actually make you have a heart attack. then again, you saw that he was a skilled swordsman, you knew it was a rare chance for him to get cut up like that.

everyone took turns visiting zoro as he slept with his wounds treated, telling him stories and what not to keep him closer to life than death. when it was your turn, your heart raced. you didn’t know what to say, so you nervously walked in the room, playing with your fingers.

you sat by zoro’s side as he laid, staring at his features. what made your heart slow was the soft rise and fall of his chest, and the sound of his relaxed breathing. time flew by as you sat by his side, humming a soft tune to let zoro know that you were there with him. your hand rested on top of his, rubbing your thumb against the top of his hand.

what you didn’t know was that you were the best comforter for him. you didn’t even realize it until now and it made you smile. you sighed as you gave zoro a soft, reassuring squeeze to his hand. all it took was a small ‘i miss you’ for your thoughts to actually cooperate and think about a genuine thing to talk about.

“you didn’t even have time to think about your actions, you jerk.” you smirked, scoffing at the memory. “nami, usopp, and i worry for you, dear. why did you want to fight that mihawk guy all of a sudden? was it the drinks? were you drunk? i don’t mind about that but still, you scared me back there, roronoa. please don’t do that again, my dear.” you whispered, it truly did frighten you but at least you’re glad that he’s alive now.

you gave his hand another soft squeeze as you raised it to your lips, giving it a small peck. “but you did very well back there, i can give you that. great job, roronoa. i’d love to see more of you in action.” you mumbled, scooting a bit closer to zoro. “we miss you, roronoa. i hope you realize that, dear.” you continued as you brought your hand up to stroke his hair.

what spooked you was when you looked at zoro’s face, you could’ve sworn you saw a tiny smirk displayed on his lips. did he hear all of that? it made you shudder a little, now feeling embarrassed.

you stumbled over your words, clearing your throat while you felt the heat rush to your face. “i’ll– uhm.. i’ll– go get—” you cleared your throat again. “uh.. i’ll go get luffy.”

when you scooted away, you gave his warm hand one more soft squeeze before gently hopping off to leave the room. that sleeping swordsman in the center of the room took your breath away, you could admit that. but you didn’t admit the sudden burn in your chest whenever he would talk to you, especially when you sat next to him back at the baratie.

was it what you thought it was? or was it just a regular heartburn without any other reason behind it? it confused you, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel at home. he made you feel at home. and you liked him for that.

if you want me to add you to my taglist, click on this link [ 🥋 ] and you’re all set !

© maraxp 2023. banner made by me. please do not copy, repost or translate any of my work without permission.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 5)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds

Part 5 Too Much

Actions famously speak louder than words, so what did you say, exactly, to Alastor with your actions that night? You were briefly rattled by what happened in the park but not for the obvious reasons. Despite everything, despite your fears, you found the situation deepening between you two when he suddenly invites to stay the night at his home. Perhaps he had fears of his own?

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! That’s next part because this part was already super fucking long 😭 , but we do flirt our asses off and get taken by the hand, crying, panic attacks, discussions of murder, dead bodies, you really have to stop smoking, deer, adorably nervous Alastor, this man owns more than one mug you fucking know it」

19 days later… 😩 please don’t kill me. 5000 words here, Another like 6000 words are posting this Thursday, also tumblr wouldn’t let me post this for like an hour , just gave me error messages, I had to copy and paste 4 times so there may be some errors in here so let me know if you find spelling or format issues🙏

When he came to, momentarily either unconscious or just incapacitated as his brain started up again, he was frantic for his glasses. He could hear the sounds of a brutal death, the crunch of anger, the squish of rage. 

His eyes focused now, slightly askew and smudged glasses helping him see you clearly. 

Leaning over the man, hands red and face twisted in a marriage of fear and wrath, you were bringing a large rock down on the man’s unrecognizable face over and over and over and—

You flinched when Alastor’s hands delicately slipped down your arms and peeled your fingers from the rock.

Full body shaking, “He was going to kill you!” You said it too loud, too fast. “He was going to—,” Your breath got caught in your throat, “He wanted to— He was trying to kill you, Alastor.”

Wet with mud and blood and the rain still left on the grass, you were pulled into Alastor’s lap. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck with a small wince and hugged you. “He was. He almost did.” Low and slow, his chest rumbled when he said it. “You did such a good job.”

You looked down at your hands, but he pulled your face back up to look at his, “Always surprising me in the best ways.”

You’d forgotten already, how when adrenaline wanes you’re left with terrible tremors and a suddenly clear head. Alastor almost died. You hadn’t thought at all when it happened. Everything had taken place so fast, faster than your brain could process.

You had seen Alastor stop struggling against the man, his body went still and your eyes were blinded with tears, there was a horrible sound that may have come from you, and then there was nothing. A flash of running Colors. Distant muddled sounds.

Maybe you saw someone grab a rock. 

You might have hit the man on the back of the head. 

You think he fell down and something didn’t stop moving against him. 

Perhaps you thought if you hit him enough you could make it have not happened at all. If you killed him fast enough, Alastor would have been fine and standing.

But you weren’t sure. You blinked and Alastor was touching you and underneath you was a pulp of a man’s face. 

Alastor’s heart was racking against his ribs. Arms tightening around you unconsciously as his eyes landed on the dead man.

He’d gotten too comfortable. He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. He was too much.

He felt himself spilling over and staining your hands metaphorically and now literally.

You didn’t feel anything. Not during. Now you felt too much.

Your mind was filled with an echoing chorus of, ‘He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost died. He almost died.” 

There was a strange fear that Alastor had died, and any second you’d blink again and be alone in the trees with two dead men. You twisted in his lap,  hands rocketing to Alastor’s face and gripping the sides of his head. You were staring into his eyes, panting.

“You can’t die. I’ll—,” tears poured down your face in streams not drops. Your throat closed around the words. Short and fast, your breath ran wild. Hands tingling, your lips felt like they were pricked with a hundred tiny needles. 

Alastor pushed down his own mess of emotions, “One deep breath in.” His hands settled on yours,  still on his face. He could feel the familiar stickiness of drying blood in his hair. “Keep breathing in.” You coughed, shaking your head no. “You can, I promise it. Would I lie to you?”

You laughed, managing to catch your breath for a moment, “Y-yes.” 

“Well, now you’re adding insult to injury.” He made a show of rubbing his neck. You smacked his chest lightly, breathing in twice in a row.

He held both of your hands in both of his, “Name a time I’ve ever lied.” He distracted you but wounded himself. He could name a time.

You tried to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just a really good liar.” Your voice was hoarse. 

Alastor nodded, “That’s true, there’s actually nothing I can’t do well.”

Another laugh, a cry, “Stop it.”

His warm, clean hands wiped your tears. “You’re being aggressive again, sweetheart. You know I prefer soft spoken women.”

The laughter helped break the cycle of hyperventilating. As your breathing finally got to a manageable speed you felt exhaustion deep in your bones.

All at once the sensations became prominent. Your knees were red and muddy, your hands bloody, your left side and back wet. You were sticky and sore and cold. “Alastor,” his legs were framing you, yours now folded under yourself and digging into rocks, “I wanna go home.” You adjusted his glasses, “Together.” 

If he had a reason to say no, he ignored it. 

“I thought I was the messy one.” He washed your hands with the water cans and settled you into the passenger seat of his car. Alastor took care of filling the trunk and cleaning the ground before sliding into the driver's seat.

He turned to you, his face dirty and clothes worse. You looked down at yourself; knees a color of wine, and blue dress now dyed brown.

“I know you have to get rid of him. So, I won’t ask you to sleep over. Just,” you felt sleepy, mind asking you to let it catch up, “let me take care of you for a little bit. Okay?”

His hand slipped onto your leg, he wanted to make a joke about sex or murder hoping to make you laugh again. But it was obvious he needed to be quiet, so he just nodded.

Alastor left the car on a side street behind your building. The man whose name you never asked concealed under canvas and red oil tins.

Luckily everything was clean in your apartment. It was small, just one room and a bathroom. The other apartments you’d seen had communal toilets and showers so you were quite proud of your space. You’d made it yours, gifted trinkets here and there, walls decorated with hanging dried flowers you'd had thrown at your feet. A shrine to your abilities.

You peeled off his clothes, tossing them in the kitchen sink and wiping off as much dirt as you could with a damp rag. 

Clothing hanging over the radiator, you both got into the shower. Cold and wet now hot and soaking,  you took his hands and sat you both down in the tub while the water ran down. Taking your time, you gently scratched the blood and mud from his hair and let it all wash away.

When fully cleaned and dried off he slipped on the only bit of clothing he had left, a loose pair of boxer shorts. You had a slip, silky and soft, to comfort you. Your mother wore silk, and it always made you feel safe. The way the fabric slid around its self and others, never catching or bunching up, was something you always hoped to emulate; smooth and cool, but always in need of a little caution and care.

A small bed meant for one, but you offered it. When Alastor motioned for you to slide in too, you didn’t hesitate.

Nose to nose, the room was quickly heating up with the radiator's help. 

You hadn’t been in a bed with Alastor in nearly two months, not since that first time. His words stuck to you like embroidered messages lovingly stitched into a handkerchief you didn’t want to lose. So you kept your hands between your thighs, still and away, to make sure he had space to exist in your bed.

“You saved my life.” Alastor whispered, one of you finally bringing up the obvious.

A hummed acknowledgment, “That makes us even.” He saved you before, you did the same in turn. A little piece of you worried the contract was done and he’d disappear.

“No, my dear. I owe you so much more.” A kiss to your cheek.

A terrifying thought took hold of you. “Roll over.” He looked confused but did. You were always asking him to turn away, always trying to hide your face when you said things that scared you. You hooked your arms under his and held tightly. 

“If I wasn’t there, there’s no one to have told me. How long would I have waited,” another torrent of tears into his back you couldn’t keep in if you tried, “at the phone booth for you to call in the morning.”

You were crying like a child, uncontrolled and with your entire body. Pathetic. 

He had never had someone to worry about those details. Everyone truly close to him was dead. Until now, of course. 

Of course.

What a natural addition you provided to him. He thought it like that it was a long standing fact.

He hugged your arms tighter to his chest. 

A shiver of fear in the warm bed as you continued, “I want to be there. With you. Always.” You gathered your courage. Shields completely down, if just for a moment, “I know there was nothing right about tonight but,” you wiped your tears off his back with your palm, reabsorbing that pain before he could soak it in, “Please. Don’t shut me out now. I’ll go to hell tomorrow for you but please don’t damn me to picking up a newspaper and seeing your name in the headlines; Learning you died in block letters for a nickel. I wouldn’t survive it.”

You didn’t want to meet his eyes, worried rejection was waiting for you there, so you’d asked him to turn so you could hide. He picked up your hands and kissed your knuckles one by one. “Please don’t say things like that outloud. Things like ‘go to hell’ and ‘tomorrow’ so close together. The spirits can hear you.” A kiss to your palm, “And I wouldn’t dare shut you out.” He couldn’t. The very idea of going back to how he was before, alone and mumbling to the dead, made his heart race with his own panic. If you disappeared tomorrow he was scared to think what would happen to him. “Plus, I know you’d just find me anyway. You always do.”

Had you not been there, he would have still tried to kill the man. Waiting in an alley or for a walk home through an empty space. You weren’t at fault. He’d been hurt before, but this was by far the worst situation he had been in. But he would have been in it regardless of your participation. Alastor pressed his lips into your hand, smelling the soap you’d washed him with. 

You hadn’t hesitated. He had thought you would run, that he’d slip away into death and you’d book it to safety. Something he never planned to ask you to do, to kill someone, you’d done it for him when it was the most selfless option. Did he mean so much to you? He wanted to ask, but if you said anything other than an immediate yes he feared he would turn to a pillar of salt and crumble.

If you both could find the courage to just look at each other you’d have all your answers. But you couldn’t. The fear still too strong. So you changed the topic for a chance at an escape.

A small confession, to turn the conversation away from death. “After our dates, your cologne always lingers on my clothes. Sometimes I just fall asleep in them. When I wake up, my pillow smells like you.” Your body formed against his back, pressing as tightly as you could. How was that less embarrassing than everything else you’d said when it was arguably more pathetic?

He was quiet. You worried you’d pushed too far. Alastor worried he’d already hurt you too much.

“If you asked me,” he spoke slowly, hands resting on yours above his heart, a deep breath, “I’d stop.” He would. 

But, “I’d never ask that of you.” You said it so quickly, like blinking or yawning it happened without you needing to think about it. Alastor did something he felt he needed to do, you saw that look in his eyes before and understood this was Alastor at his truest. And the people he killed weren’t good people. He provided a service to New Orleans that no one appreciated.

He smiled against your palm, making sure you felt it, “Why are you so good to me?”

Without hesitation, Because I love you.

After a beat of silence, “Because you know where I live, obviously.”

A huff, “And where you work.” 

“And the park where I like to get fingered.”

Finally, his unburdened laugh, “I didn’t expect you to say that.” That sound of his joy bounced off the thin walls around you both. He rarely expected anything you said or did. It was part of your charm. Normally he could predict what people would say like reading a bad story, but you were something else. Effortlessly entertaining, was that a compliment? He was sure you’d say no and make that face you always did, something between a pout and a glare, between sad and angry. 

He had been asking genuinely. Why were you so good to him? Why so patient? Why care at all? 

“Can you sleep? Or do you need to go?” 

Alastor thought about it, if he left early enough he could still get home in time to empty the trunk. He hummed an affirmative, when he didn’t move you understood it was the former. He didn’t want to go. He needed more time. He needed to feel you nearby. An odd sense that if he pulled away now the thread holding you two together would pull him apart at the seams with the distance. 

You would think nightmares would plague you after killing someone in cold blood, but no. You practically killed Tommy, when you considered it thoroughly. And while this night was not a joy, you had defended yourself and Alastor. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t regret it. You were just scared you did a bad job. That you’d get caught. 

The kind of dreams you had were different kinds of scary. Of Alastor always leaving a room when you entered, of falling off the stage and landing too far down, of waking up to feel Alastor cold beside you. 

When you did wake, your arms were still tight around him and he was warm. Your forehead rested between his shoulder blades. You didn’t feel different this time, you didn’t feel changed like after Tommy.

Alastor always had nightmares so he wasn’t surprised to have them in your bed. He dreamt he awoke on the ground, the man was gone but you were there broken into several pieces.

Had it been a dream though? 

After he dressed, you brushing his hair over a shared cup of coffee (you only had the single mug), you walked him to his car. The sun was nearly up and luckily no one else was. You had just wrapped a coat around your slip, not exactly acceptable clothing for being in public.

A shared kiss, small and chaste, Alastor’s mind elsewhere. He opened the door but stopped and turned back to you. It was always in these moments before you two parted that he felt the most frantic. 

“I know we love talking in circles and making jokes, but I have to ask you, bluntly. You killed a man. Are you alright?” When you only blinked, he quickly added, “It’s okay if you’re not.” His expression was pure worry, furrowed brows and flat mouth. “Nothing will change if you say you’re not.”

When you started to smile, Alastor thought he had lost his mind. The sun was rising behind you, making the shadows on your face slowly shift. He took a second to take in the scene. Ankles naked with sockless shoes. To your right was a trunk full of a dead man. And you just smiling like he’d made a joke. Which he explicitly said he wasn’t going to do.

“I don’t feel like I killed anyone.” You said it with a levity that made him glance around, wondering if you’d hit your head a little too hard earlier, “I feel like I stopped someone from killing you. Which feels,” you fought to suppress your smile from growing any further, “kinda good. Like I’m strong. I’m just scared I made a mistake and police will find out. I’m terrified we’ll be seperated. But I don’t feel bad.”

A normal man would be deeply concerned. You didn’t feel bad? For killing a man with a rock? Arguably one of the most brutal ways to murder a person. A normal man would worry he would be next.

Luckily for you both, Alastor was not a normal man. He stared at your face, trying to discern any hints of deceit there before he fell into the comfort of trust.

Your pinky came out, “I’m fine, and if I’m ever not, I will tell you. Promise.” His eyes left your face to stare at the tiny digit, “If I break the promise, you get to break the pinky.”

“Pinkies are useless, we should use a finger that matters.” He offered his index. You let yourself laugh, hooking your pointer finger with his.

Smile to smile, he exhaled his stress and slipped into his normal demeanor, “No worries, darling! No one will ever know what happened to him.” He leaned beside you and patted the trunk. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor drove away with the man, ready to disappear the body and try to sleep before work if possible. A nagging still sat in his stomach, a little pull that maybe you’d change your mind. 

He asked you the next morning, on your routine call, if he could stop by the theater when he finished with work that night. No reason in particular. He’d pull into the side street, and you could run out to see him.

When he arrived, you were in your stage outfit waiting to greet the crowd. Alastor smiled, “The prettiest bird I’ve ever seen!”

“A bird? Alastor just ‘pretty’ woulda been a fine compliment.” 

He offered an apology by way of kiss, soft hands coming to your cheek as he leaned against the door of his car. “I just wanted to see you. Steal a kiss before you stole some hearts. May I return tomorrow?”

Ah, that feeling again. Stupid school girl with her first crush, her first taste of love. “I wouldn’t complain.” 

That flow of conversation eased Alastor, things felt normal already. For you, they were. A small worry remained he may begin to act differently but the only difference was he seemed to be embracing you deeper. 

After your delivered kiss, you took the stage like a woman reborn. The warmth of the light felt like the sun. Pointed toes as you moved along the stage, hips loose and smile coy. 

As you looked around the backlit crowd you didn’t search for a good mark. The times you did play a man’s attention for Alastor were different, it felt like art when you lured men into Alastor’s claws.

A shake of your feathered fans, a very controlled lowering of your head, you let a hip rock out into view. A little flash of inner thigh. Then, your favorite part. One hand gripped your fans as you them with the aide of practiced fingers. Free hand undoing your still remarkably heavy and glittering bra and handing it behind the curtain.

Surprise reveal, a naked magic trick done behind distracting whirling feathers. Arms open, fans high, you waited for the applause to die down. Deep breaths were not possible, adrenaline and the weight of your costume keeping you from hiding the heaving of your chest. 

The whistles were your favorite. You couldn’t imagine Alastor whistling but you were sure it would be flawless in its ability to capture your attention. 

“Anyone wanna smoke? I don’t want to go into the alley alone.” You asked the room, several girls glancing your way and shaking their heads no as you hurried back in from your set.

“Just take the fire escape to the roof. That’s where we’ve been smoking since Mr. Brady said it was dangerous at night.” Florence was normally a perfect smoking partner, never talking too much. The name Brady made your stomach flip though, you had forgotten about him for a second. You’d managed to avoid him until Tommy’s bloody trail went cold, but you knew he still stalked around the jazz and music district.

A dancer laughed, “Nighttime has always been dangerous for women.”

Someone you didn’t see added, “Fuck, daytimes not safe either.” 

You climbed the creaky and seemingly forgotten-about fire escape to the roof. The breeze hit your face before your feet even left the metal railing. 

It was… a roof. Grey painted floors and brick sides. Nothing special, but you could see the bowl full of discarded cigarettes near the front of the building. You looked over the short wall that edged the front, you were able to see the pigeon shit covered marquee. What an unattractive view, the lights flashing out from beneath actual shit.

There was a metaphor there, you were sure. 

Looking around, there were a few wicker chairs hidden in the shadow of the street’s lights, thankfully upside down to keep them clean from the birds.

If more people used roofs instead of alleys Alastor would be out of luck. Tommy was difficult enough with a staircase, the fire escape would have been the nail in that coffin. 

It had been a lovely night, absolutely jarring compared to the night before. You leaned back in the chair, you knew you weren’t the best at saying what you meant. Especially when the words you offered could be used to hurt you. Words of affection and love, when true, were daggers given handle-first to someone else. 

So you hoped Alastor could guess how much he meant to you. You shouldn’t need to say it, right? Actions speak louder than words. You bludgeoned a man to death for what you had thought was a lost cause. It had seemed Alastor was already dead when you first brought down the rock. 

Diamonds are rocks, you considered. The most expensive costume the theater had was peacock feathered with shining crystals. You wanted to say you felt like a peacock, spirit large and wide and colorful. But those were males. Of course they were. The animal kingdom had males compete for mates with pretty colors and lovely songs. Now ladies pranced around in painted faces and short dresses. You didn’t feel pale or small like the ‘fairer sex’ peacock.

You felt like the swan. Vicious and beautiful, not out shone by anyone.

Well there was someone you’d allow to shine brighter. Someone you’d happily let take the lead. You’d thought letting a man walk in front of you was a sign of subservience. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that there could be respect in trusting someone else to go ahead. That the act of going first could be for protection and not power.

“Hey!”

You hurried to the fire escape, “yeah?”

“There’s a man asking for you. Tall guy named Frank?”

Frank?

Oh, Frank.

You’d forgotten about him. He’d left months ago. He was a whale, rich and generous. You took a moment to consider sitting down with him, smiling and laughing at his jokes, letting his hand settle on your thigh. It had been weeks since you entertained scamming anyone, and now you couldn’t even stomach the idea of faking interest in another man. Frank wasn’t one to scam, he just liked having a pretty lady on his arm to make him feel young and wanted, and in exchange you got into private parties and were gifted jewelry and clothing.

“Tell him I’m busy and send him off.” You hollered down. You could buy your own clothes. 

“Did he leave?” Alastor asked you the next morning, you leaning against the glass phone booth in the early morning light.

Your finger wrapped around the phone cord, “No of course not! They never do. I snuck out the back.”

There was a hum, “Well my dear, you’ve offered me a wonderful transition into my next question.” Alastor was sitting at his kitchen table, nervously turning his coffee cup around in circles, “Would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can pick you up after your show.”

Like a glacier drifting away from shore, you very slowly crouched down in the booth. “To your home?” 

“No, to Alabama.” He waited a beat, “Yes of course my home. I can show you what happens after I drive away.” A cheeky smile evident through his voice.

You pressed the phone receiver into your chest, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. What happens when he drives away? So…where the bodies go. But most importantly, the biggest part of this—where he lives. So much can be gleaned about someone from their home. A bookshelf alone could make or break an attraction. You brought the receiver back to your mouth. “Lovely! Sure thing— Alastor. Yes.” you almost added on an awkward nickname like daddy-o or mister man, like an idiot, because your brain was misfiring like you’d seen him in the sunlight again.

Ah, you could see his bed. 

Where he slept.

Did he ever dream of you?

What if it was terribly dirty? Could you still love him if he was a slob? 

“I’m quite far from downtown, pack an overnight bag, okay?” He stopped fidgeting with the mug. When the call ended he sat at the table for some time, staring around the kitchen. The home was large by city standards, but it was old. His mother’s charm was evident through every part. A finger scratched at the wooden table, heavy and solid. Why was his heart racing? 

He walked to the screened back door, looking from the weathered patio steps to the greenhouse. 

No one had ever been to his home. Ever. A teensy part of him was panicking. Was this a mistake? Was he going to fuck up the budding relationship? Throw off the peace of his safest place?

Budding. Okay that was ridiculous even for him. The kind of intimacy gained through murder did not allow any union to be called budding. He’d shared pieces of himself no other living soul knew of. Your image of him was possibly even more complete than his own mother had held, even though he tried to always be the most sincere with her. Even people he did care for and consider close friends had never knew where he lived. Never heard what kept him up at night. Never learned his distaste for a random lay.

Opening the screen door with a signature creak, the sound many southerners could call comforting, he walked to the greenhouse.

The newest part of the property, the glass walled structure was built shortly after his mother’s death. Double doors: locked. Just beyond the glass was a forest of plants and potted trees. They had no need for a greenhouse, but Alastor had a need for them.

He set about preparing his home for another occupant, a task that brought him such a shock of joy and anxiety he began to wonder who he was. New sheets on the bed, extra pillows set against his wooden headboard. Large glass jar in the backyard full of water and tea bags.

It was also unexpected he was thinking so much of his mother. In a perfect world she’d be there to greet you. Though if she was alive, he wouldn’t have been in that alley that night. He made a mental note to not mention his mother, at least not as much as he was remembering her as he walked around the two story home tidying.

Would he have met you if he wasn’t a killer? 

A flicker of fear was quickly extinguished by romance. Definitely. You both ran in the same scenes. He’d seen you before that night, he just never approached you. He hadn’t anticipated how much more you were than the facade you put on. Nothing about your sweet face said, ‘I have a high tolerance for murder.’

Alastor spent the day at work physically present but mentally pacing his living room. He nodded along to discussions of who was to be live on set next, smile never faltering as he worried if he had breakfast foods. He rarely ate breakfast, did you? How had he not thought to ask. Sloppy.

The only outward sign he was feeling any stress was the tapping of his finger on his desk, which he hadn’t even noticed until the stage manager commented.  

“Alastoooor,” her voice was high, like it seemed many women’s voices were recently. Was it a trend? “Impatient? Hot date with a young lady this evening?”

While she meant well, she always pried, always asked questions he didn’t appreciate. 

Alastor shook his head, smile strained. A perceptive person would have picked up on it, but Brenda was not perceptive.

“Oh.” A noticeable disappointment, “That’s boring.”

Actually on second thought maybe she didn’t mean well.

“I’ve had too much coffee, is all, Brenda.” He pulled his hand into his lap. “Was there anything you needed?” 

“No,” she pouted, much less endearing than you.

If he murdered purely for fun Debra would be dead before sunset. Unfortunately her only crime was being remarkably annoying.

Alastor waited behind the theater, where it was less likely any staff would see him. It was still important to avoid connecting the two of you together, at least at your workplace yet. 

He was quick to grab your bag for you.

“Not the trunk, please.” You said, it took him a second to catch the joke. He set it on the back seat after opening your door for you. You’d only been in his car a few times but he never failed to be a perfect gentleman. 

Your palms were sweating, when his hand rested on your leg while he drove you resisted the urge to hold it. Instead you slipped yours under his. Alastor asked you about your day, about work, about if Frank came back. Typically as soon as you left the theater you were in a cone of silence until your phone call with him the next day. It was kind of nice, having someone to speak to. Before meeting him there were times you worried you’d forget how to talk naturally, how to sound like yourself.

The glowing eyes of deer popped up from the side of the road, startling you. Eerie. You held your breath, would they run, stay still, or sprint into the road.

“Is it true their antlers can break car windshields?” You asked not breaking eye contact with a doe as you drove past.

Alastor nodded, “If a buck hits your car the wrong way, not even the car will make it out of the accident.”

“Are there a lot of bucks around?”

“Will be soon, as fall— wait why am I telling you this,” he laughed, “Miss Autumn Hind already knows what makes the bucks run wild.”

You shouldn’t be smiling, it was a dumb rut joke, but it felt like a compliment. 

The car lights passed over the home as he turned into the dirt driveway. Powder blue. It wasn’t a color you associated with Alastor. He was caramel, honey, midnight blue, red. His sometimes sinister smile didn’t look quite right against powder blue. But, for a home, it was lovely.

“Is someone home?” You saw a light on in an upstairs room.

Alastor reached behind you for your bag, “No, I leave it on when I’m gone. Gives the impression that the house isn’t empty.”

A minor bit of acting, Alastor opening the door and offering to bring your bag upstairs before a tour like a good host. His anxious energy was barely contained by that grin of his. For your part you played the appropriately impressed guest.

But deep down you were very impressed. An actual house. Your mother struggled to keep apartments rented. Alastor had a home. With stairs. That went to more home, not a neighbor. What a lovely thing. What did he do with all this space?

He could probably hide quite a few bodies in there.

Alastor opened his bedroom door and motioned for you to enter.

You took in every detail as shrewdly as you could. Two circular nightstands, a wide dresser with a few framed photos and a radio. One large window facing the yard, you could see the car outside from where you were standing. “Wow a man’s bedroom. I tend to avoid these.”

“What a coincidence, so do I. Bedrooms in general, really.” He placed your bag on the dresser, offering to unpack it for you. Your smile screwed up, shaking your head no. You couldn’t imagine Alastor folding your panties and setting them into a drawer. 

Well.

“Yes please.” You took a seat on the end of his bed, watching him tenderly empty the bag before beginning to put things away like you’d come home from a trip. “A bed big enough for two people. You didn’t tell me you were a fancy man. Ooh la la.”

Alastor laughed, “Your bed was quite comfortable.” He set your dress onto a hook attached to the closet door, hands running down the fabric to straighten out the wrinkles, “But I have a feeling that had more to do with you than anything else.”

The floor was clean, the rug beneath the bed a simple but pristine white. What an odd color for a rug.  

You truly did avoid men’s homes. The power dynamic shifts too much.

“Are all men so clean?”

“Oh god no. Have you really never been to a man’s home?” Without a moment of hesitancy his long fingers flattened out your underthings and neatly folded them. You could call it erotic, knowing what else his fingers could do.

A hum, you swayed side to side, “Too much risk. I don’t know where the knife drawer is, which locks stick, what windows open all the way.” 

He set the empty bag into a reading chair in the corner, “That sounds stressful.”

You shrugged, “My mother taught me to always have an escape. From situations, from rooms, from people. Not terrible advice.”

That was true, he thought. If the few women he killed had considered that, he would be less prolific. Women tended to be easier in some regards.

Alastor finally let himself look at you sitting on his bed. Were you wearing the black garters today? He liked those. He appreciated the red dress you’d worn.

Taking off his jacket and vest, he hung them up while his eyes kept returning to you. Your legs were crossed, thighs soft and pressed together. He remembered feeling them against his ears. A little cough to clear his throat and mind.

“Are you hungry?”

You werent, but you weren’t ready for sleep either, so you asked for some bread and butter. Alastor sat beside you at the table, watching you look around. It didn’t look like a killer's home. 

“Ya know, I was going to rob you. I had been wanting to talk to you, before that guy caught me off guard when I was smoking.” You said it easily. 

He smiled, “Oh, why’d you change your mind?”

“Well, you slit a man’s throat in front of me.”

“Tsk tsk, you give up too easily, my dear.”

Salted butter, soft bread. Simple. Happy. “You were so handsome-,”

“We’re?”

A snort of a laugh, rolling your eyes dramatically, “and you looked well off. I was searching the room for the lights reflecting off of your glasses all night.”

Alastor grimaced, fighting the well of his ego, and leaned on his elbows, “Is it too morbid to say I’m glad that man tried to kill you? I like this timeline more than being robbed and never seeing you again.”

“That’s very selfish. I would have enjoyed chasing you down and finessing your wallet off you.” You set the glass lid back over the butter dish, content with the snack. “Some men come back actually and confront me at the theater.”

He howled. The idea was ridiculous, “Seriously? Why not just tell the cops.”

“Men don’t like telling other men they got taken for a ride by a dame.”

Alastor stood, “What would you have done if you had robbed me and I marched into the theater demanding my cash back.” It took a second to realize he was being serious in wanting you to play along. 

You popped the last piece of bread into your mouth and stood too, “You rake!” A fake smack to his chest, “I booted you to the curb! You had more hands than an octopus!” 

Alastor tried to stay in character but his smile kept cracking through his serious face. “And my wallet? None of my hands can find it.” You took a few steps back, feigning shock at the accusation.

“Sir! You were so drunk I’m not surprised you lost it.” When Alastor closed the space between you with two wide steps and pulled you into his chest you giggled, hitting softly at him, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Trying to take advantage,” his hands wandered down your hips, making your voice catch in your throat, “of a good woman like me.”

His mouth came to your ear, “Well, miss, I think you owe me the opportunity to try again.”

You went stiff against him, the sudden turn of his voice into seduction taking you by surprise, “If you were a real mark, I’d punch you in the face for saying that.”

“But for me?” Breath against your neck.

Your hands slid up his chest and to his collar, pulling him down and into a kiss. His smile spread across your lips. 

His mouth stayed against your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “Ready for bed?”

“Are you sleepy, hun?” You pulled away, a sincerely worried face. Two nights now you’d interrupted his normal routine.

Alastor’s eyes seemed to sparkle behind his glasses, head shaking, “No, not at all.” You felt the heat rise up your face. Wanting to avoid assumptions, you tried to temper your expectations.

His hand pulled you toward the stairs, you dragging your feet, “Did you want to show me around?”

“In the daylight.” He led you up the stairs and to the right.

“Oh okay….”, your mind was reeling, mouth dry. No dead body in sight. No blood. You hadn’t pressed him or asked for anything. Maybe he just wanted a good cuddle, or some kisses. You often enjoyed necking near the car before he would go home. Right. Let him lead.

You followed him, letting him guide you hand in hand back to his bedroom.

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar,@straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove@saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , @sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re , @asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp , @angelxx7 , @katgirl05 , @impulsivethoughtsat2am , @sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

[are-we-nice]

Regulus Black x clumsy!Hufflepuff!reader | ~300 words

You and Regulus were complete opposites.

Everyone saw this, which is why they were surprised when they noticed you holding hands, hugging, and even kissing.

An apathetic Slytherin with a seemingly way too happy Hufflepuff? This was sure to be fun.

On top of your personality, you were also just a bit clumsy. You always had some kind of injury on your body from all types of falling, slipping, and running into things.

You never seemed to slow down either your personality or your movements. Which is why you were currently sitting in the hospital wing with a cast on your arm.

It wasn't even your fault this time, someone left their books all over the floor!

"Amour! Where is she?!"

"Mr. Black, calm down!"

You smiled as you heard Madam Pomfrey scold your boyfriend, although that smile turned shy as Regulus pulled back the curtains.

"Mon amour, what happened?" He asked panicked, although much more softly than the moments before. He sat down on the chair next to you and grasped your uninjured hand.

"I, uh, tripped on the way to class."

He gave you a strange look, as if he didn't believe you. "And it did that?" He said, gesturing to your cast.

"Well, Madam Pomfrey said it was cause I was carrying books and I landed on it weird." You explained, not wanting to make him worry any longer.

He sighed, resting his head on your abdomen. "Well, next time this happens, have them tell me what the injury is before I have a heart attack."

You smiled at that. "How do you know there'll be a next time?" You asked, though you know the answer.

"Because I know you, amour. Now get some sleep."

You couldn't help but do as he says as you realize just how drowsy you are. As you fall asleep you hear a small voice mumble something.

"I love you."

You don't have the energy to respond.

A/N

Accidentally posted this without like adding anything on 😭 that was scary. Thanks for reading <3

[drysdalesworld]

puppy love

luke hughes x fem!reader

youruser just posted!

liked by yourbestie, userone, and more

youruser: on today’s adventure with bandit and y/n, we almost got run over by a (nearly blind) 6’2 blond who didn’t see us crossing the street (i was wearing a bright pink shirt) & are forever scarred from the experience. tho, he apologized with mcdonalds & gave bandit all the kisses in hopes of forgiveness (he forgave him 🙄 – my villain origin story fr). anywho, glad we survived & came out unscathed 💪

( loading comments ! )

yourbestie: you gave me a literal heart attack when you called me saying you almost died. i was nearly ready to run to your aid bbg 😪

userone: babes, you let him into your home?? mans NEARLY killed you

youruser: he’s very charismatic

youruser: & persuasive

usertwo: i love hearing about y/n and bandit’s daily adventures. it’s like the highlight of my day fr

markestapa: hearing about this the minute it happened is truly an experience i will never forget

edwards73: i legit thought he was crying lol

rutgermcgroarty: “i just almost hit a pretty girl and her puppy. im legit the worst person to ever walk this earth!”

dylanduke25: hearing her cuss him out in the background is my roman empire fr

markestapa: she said some very colorful words to our boy 😂

userthree: all these umich boys in y/n’s comments & yet none of them are exposing who it is 😭

userfour: fr like i need to know❗️❗️

edwards73: he told me to tell you that he will buy you all the mcdonalds you want if you forgive him

youruser: i’ll think it about it

markestapa: he’s literally begging on his knees

userfive: damn whoever it is, they’re exposing him lol

yoursibling: of course this happens to you smh

yourbestie2: bandits new dad??? 👀

lhughes_06 just posted!

liked by seamuscasey26, _quinnhughes, and more

lhughes_06: i’ve been promoted to dog walker 🐕👨‍🦯

tagged: youruser

( loading comments! )

youruser: the best dog walker there is!

luca.fantilli: bandit literally dragged him down the street

dylanduke25: & he’s like a fifteen pound dog. that dog’s stronger than luke

userone: ngl i was expecting a bigger reveal

_quinnhughes: at least he’s learning some responsibility

usertwo: the second pic ❤️❤️❤️

userthree: i wonder how luke truly did not see y/n when she was crossing the road?? like what was boy doing to NOT see her?? 🤔

youruser: that’s what i’ve been wondering these past few months lhughes_06

lhughes_06: oops??? i told you i didn’t see you cross the street 😫

jackhughes: boy ik you lying since your head practically hits the top of the car roof. you def saw the poor girl 😭 lhughes_06

markestapa: bring bandit over more often please 🙏🤍

userfour: not jack exposing luke in userthree’s comment thread 👀

youruser just posted!

liked by elhughes, adamfantilli, and more

youruser: nearly three years with you and all you had to do was nearly kill me and my dog to get my attention 💓💓

tagged: lhughes_06

( loading comments! )

jackhughes: ahh, puppy love ❤️

lhughes_06: you’re never going to let that go are you? 🫤

youruser: lemme think….🤔

youruser: uh no <3

yourbestie: i better be the maid of honor 💢❗️

edwards73: i cant wait to hear about how they met at their wedding. what a meet cute fr

elhughes: i hope he’s learned his lesson by now! 💛💙

youruser: of course mama hughes! im just giving him a hard time 🤍

userone: if i don’t meet my future partner like this, then i don’t want it ❗️❗️

usertwo: i can’t believe it’s been three years! bandits so big now :(

userthree: ikr! feels like just yesterday i stumbled upon y/n’s post about it

userfour: how the time flies

rutgermcgroarty: i volunteer to be bandit’s sitter during your dates!

seamuscasey26: hey no fair! i called dibs first!

lhughes_06: god i love you

youruser: i love you too lukey 💞

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Omfg I ate that Vox fic up! The one where he hypnotized the reader after a long fight of them nearly being taken from him. Can you do a part 2 please? Like when the reader eventually learns he basically forced them to sign the contract and they find a way to be immune to his hypnosis? He goes absolutely nuts despite literally owning their soul. He's canonically a control freak and seems to even have some yandere traits. I hope I'm not going against your rules! You don't have any posted so I just wanna ask! Thank you for being awesome! :D Don't hesitate to turn down this request. Write what makes you feel comfortable. Just please respond so I and everyone else knows not to make a similar request in the future. Lots of love!

ABSOLUTELY!! I did take this in a slightly different direction, but hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Lowkey thinking of doing a Vox POV of this later and maybe even a part three...

Vox isn't actually in this much, but I feel a loose actual plot coming together and this is what naturally flowed for me.

I hope y'all are ready for more angst... plus a cliff-hanger <3

More Than Anything Part 2 [Vox x Reader]

Part 1

Part 2.5

"You controlling prick!"

Vox ducked as you threw a pillow at him. Even in your righteous anger, you'd never actually truly try to hurt him, but by god were you pissed.

Despite Vox's obvious disdain for the Hazbin Hotel and its association with Alastor, you visited the hotel occasionally to catch up with your friend Angel Dust and give some much-deserved love to his pet pig Fat Nuggets. It was during one of these visits that you ran into Alastor, who immediately looked at you with disgust in his ever-present smile.

"Really now, my dear," he said as he shook his head in disapproval. "It's already enough of a shame that you have such poor taste in a romantic partner, but to give your soul to him as well? I thought you were smarter than that."

The overlord could see the aura of Vox's ever-annoying electric cords locked around your soul like chains. You'd been confused and his eye twitched with annoyance as he realized what Vox had done to you. To say you were livid after he explained that you'd been tricked was an understatement.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Vox pleaded as you fumed at him in his room. "But you left me no other choice! You weren't listening to me and if I didn't bind your soul, then Satan knows what could have happened to you by now."

"Just because you don't fucking believe in my ability to look out for myself doesn't mean you get to just take my soul!" You screamed with hot, angry tears flowing down your face. You wipe at them, only crying harder at the frustration of the tears you couldn't control in your anger. You felt like they undermined your emotions.

Vox's magic sparked around him as he tried his best not to get angry and start a fight with you. He was terrified and was that much more susceptible to his angry tendencies in moments like these. It took everything in him to try and calm himself, not wanting to push you away further. His heart dropped and his blood ran cold as he saw you pull a large bag out of the closet and start shoving clothes into it.

"W-Where are you going?" Vox panicked as he crossed the room.

"The hotel," you said with quiet fury, as you stepped away from the closet and went to the nightstand with your personal things on it. "I need some space and it's the one fucking place I know you'd rather die again than follow me to."

"Ŷ̸̪͕o̸̢̿̿ū̷̫ ̶̬͂c̶̺̾͂a̴͒͘͜n̴̫̂̔'̶̡̉t̶͙̝̄͒," Vox said, his voice starting to glitch as his panic increased. "You've heard the news, the extermination is in a week and the angels plan on attacking there first. There's no guarantee they'll keep to the date after how much little miss dumbass pissed off heaven. It's not safe there."

You pull your bag over your shoulder and the look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his afterlife. "It's safer than here."

It breaks him all the more when you shield your eyes from him and storm past him so he can't hypnotize you into staying. Vox is paralyzed with fear like never before. He wanted to scream, to beg, to stop you from leaving him, but he couldn't do anything as his system glitched so hard it forced him into a reboot. When he came to, he was alone. You were gone.

--

Charlie was more than willing to let you stay at the hotel. The two of you hadn't had the chance to really ever speak before, but she was always friendly when you came to visit Angel, even after you explained to her there was no way you'd be able to become a guest.

In exchange, you were happy to help set up the defenses against the extermination. You got to know all of the other members of the hotel and the work helped you push down the burning ache in your chest.

Vox had been trying to contact you nonstop. You eventually turned off your phone, driven insane by the wall of notifications of him begging you to respond in any way. He knew you were okay for the time being. He was literally connected to your soul. But as the extermination day grew closer, his panic only increased. If it wasn't for Valentino and Velvette holding him back, there were several times he genuinely would have set aside his pride and come to the hotel just to get you.

It was after helping Husk and Cherri put up a particularly tricky barrier with the dwindling supplies that Angel found you taking a break. He passed you a water which you took gratefully as he slid down the wall and joined you on the floor.

"So," he started. "Are we going to ever talk about the reason why you're hiding out here?"

"Do we have to?" You groan, running your fingers through your hair. Despite the smiles and laughter you'd been sharing with your newfound friends as you all prepared for the potential end of it all, the dark circles on your eyes gave away what was lurking underneath.

For as angry as you were at Vox, you missed him. You missed feeling him curl against you in bed. You missed being woken up at unholy hours early in the morning because Vox couldn't start his day without giving you a kiss and telling you how much he loved you. You missed his shitty taste in shows and how he'd collapse into your arms after a long day at work.

Angel sighed, looking at the boarded-up lobby. "Look I may not get it, but you love the guy, right? Are you really content with possibly dying in a couple of days for a cause you're not even a part of, just because you're pissed with him?"

"He stole my soul, Angie" You frown at him.

"And that is fucked up as hell," he agrees. "But I know you and I know there ain't no way in hell you're actually satisfied leaving shit like this."

"I just-," you start before groaning. "How the hell are we supposed to come back from this? I doubt he'd ever void the contract. He's too convinced he's right for that."

Angel sighed, setting his own cup aside. "Honestly toots, you're not gonna like it, but... He kinda has a point."

You whip your head up to look at him and he holds up his hands defensively. "Not saying that stealing your soul was the right call. Believe me, if anyone gets how fucked it is having your soul controlled by a sociopath with a big ego, it's me. But you're not exactly in the safest of places, dollface. Not to mention, you're dating an overlord who's in a trio determined to piss off as many big shots as possible. His mind may not be in the right place, but his heart kinda is."

You take Angel's words to heart and sigh as you bury your face in your arms. "I hate it, but you're right... I just... I don't want to hold him back. I don't want to be the person that needs to be protected. I want to be his equal, not his problem."

"Then tell him that," Angel sighs. His gaze drifts to the bar and smiles fondly. "Someone recently has taught me how important being real with yourself is. It's okay to be flawed. No one got stuck in this shithole cause we were perfect, y'know?"

He nudged you with a grin as he added, "Plus, come on. Can you imagine how many bitches in hell would kill to have a sexy fucker that wants nothing more than to love ya and keep ya safe? I love you toots, but for fucks sake, pick a struggle."

You snort, shaking your head as you lightly swat at his arm. "Fuck you for being right about shit all the time."

"It's one of my best assets," Angel smirked. "Y'know, aside from all the fluff."

You laughed as he puffed up his chest and by the end of the evening, you'd decided to head back. As much as you loved Angel and wanted nothing more than to be by his side as the extermination drew near, he had a point. This wasn't your fight and there was a controlling dumbass that had been blowing up your phone ever since you left that was praying for your return.

After exchanging promises to see each other after the extermination, you left the hotel. You had an idiot to see.