#let the deer eat his people :<<<

[shadebloopnik]

Debating whether I should make Alastor a cannibal in my angelic Alastor Au. But also bc if I did i'd imagine conversations go like this

Lucifer: YOU'RE A CANNIBAL?!?!!??

Alastor: Now now, in my defense-

Alastor: It's not exactly cannibalism if they're not my species now is it- I mean, they're demons not angels, and come on-

Lucifer: YOU LITERALLY TRIED TO EAT ADAM'S CORPSE-

Alastor: Ah HAH! Adam, my dear, is a HUMAN soul, SO-

Lucifer:

[abombihoney]

y'all gotta stop making alastor look cool in redesigns he's gotta look a little goofy silly he needs his funny haircut adn bright colors ur fucking killing him

[lyrefromthesea]

Do you think you could maybe do the Hashiras with a dying reader? Not like dying in there arms but a reader who's so ill that they can't move and bed ridden, dying?

Remember to take care of yourself!!

Hashira x Reader - how sickening

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader, Shinobu x reader, Mitsuri x reader

content warning: angst, fluff?

Tengen:

"i'm home" he said, still both his swords in hand. he had started immediately coming home after his missions, worried over your safety.

since the doctor told you to stay in bed, he had to help you more now. he didn't mind, he would give you acts of service as long as you live.

however, when he heard sounds coming from the kitchen, he dropped both his swords, rushing towards the room.

you stood in front of the counter, trying to chop vegetables. his eyes widened, knowing that you put a toll on your body. with a swift movement, his hand was on yours as he stood right behind you.

"darling, it's enough." he told you, gently taking the knife out of your hands. he almost felt bad when you looked at him with big deer eyes. "the doctor told you to rest."

"i know, but it doesn't sit right with me. i still feel like i can do things myself. i want to be helpful." you admitted, your head lowering.

"i know, but it's important to rest at times. let's bring you to bed, I can finish this." he answered, nodding at the vegetables. he put an arm around your shoulder, leading you towards the bedroom.

listening to your words, he knew you still wanted to feel helpful - strong, but he saw how weak your body truly was.

he knew that there was a slim chance of survival. he didn't want the time you still had decreasing because you were pushing yourself too much.

Obanai:

you were asleep again. it happened more often since he came visiting you every day. his eyes were looking you over, trying to find anything out of place.

you had more bandages on your arms, probably from all the shots you were receiving. your lips have turned more pale and dark circles were slowly growing under your eyes.

he had come up with a routine when you were asleep upon his arrival, checking your body first and then placing his head on your chest.

he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your heart. the steady beat always managed to calm him down, but it has grown weaker over the past days.

he felt worry consuming the back of his mind, not noticing how your hand moved until it was placed on his head.

"Obanai.. you came to visit again." you mumbled, opening your eyes just a bit, everything else felt too exhausting.

"i promised." he answered, carefully pulling away. he knew it was stupid, but he was worried about putting too much weight on you.

"you can continue, i don't mind.." you tried to encourage him to continue, not wanting him to feel stressed. he declined your offer right away, much rather looking after you.

"i'm fine."

Rengoku:

his eyes were locked on your plate. the two of you have eaten lunch about half an hour ago. when he decided to do the dishes and found your nearly untouched plate, worry began to pool in his gut.

you hadn't eaten properly over the past few weeks, but it had been so much worse since last week. he put the plate down, not feeling like cleaning it right now.

his mind was elsewhere - with you - trying to figure out how to make you feel better.

he had already known what an untreatable disease could do to people. he had watched his mother be bedridden until the moment of her death.

and even though you've told him that you made peace with the fact you were going to die, he had at least wanted to make your days as bearable as possible.

he shook his head, trying to lock the negative thoughts out. times were hard, he needed to show you he was a reliable husband - that he still had hope.

he cleared his throat, trying to look more confident a he wandered to your room. perhaps he could convince you to eat a small treat.

Sanemi:

visiting the hospital was something Sanemi dreaded every day. he would've avoided ever seeing this place, but that meant he wouldn't be able to see you.

entering your room, he found himself swallowing down his sorrows. he did it for you, but it got harder for him with each passing day.

he stood next to your hospital bed, looking down at your face. you nearly looked like last time, but you've grown more pale.

he wondered if you could feel the change - feel anything. if he only knew that his daily visits were helping you grow healthy.

yet there was no indication of your well-being. you had been in a coma for three months now and the doctors didn't believe in your recovery anymore.

"i tried cooking your favourite, when you wake up again, i want to show you." he started, standing next to your bed. he didn't know what to do, so he decided to tell you about his day when he visited.

he knew it wasn't anything interesting, but he hoped you would hear something - anything. he hoped you would wake up and prove the doctors wrong.

Giyuu:

this wasn't fair. his sister. his friend. the people he fought to protect. and now you.

ever since you've grown sick, he has stayed by your side. he knew you couldn't move on your own so he did it for you. it was easy to carry you around, you've grown much lighter in his arms. it worried him, even the inexperienced eye could tell you weren't healthy.

"the sun will set soon." his quiet voice proclaimed, feeling your head move. he sat down on the engawa, keeping you in his arms.

"is this okay?" he asked, trying to ensure you weren't uncomfortable in his hold. he wanted you to feel at ease at all times.

"it's good, don't worry." you mumbled, placing your head against his chest. his hold on you grew tighter, he was glad you put your trust in him.

he swore to protect you, but protecting someone from a demon is different than this. he felt helpless, afraid of losing you.

he didn't know how many sunsets you would be able to see.

Gyomei:

when the first signs of your sickness started occuring and you wished to still indulge in the pleasures of life, he had supported you.

deep down he thought it would maybe make you feel better, treat what was untreatable.

however, it didn't change the number of times you were more tired than usual, passing out in the midst of a conversation or task.

"Gyomei..?" you awoke in your bed, hands slowly rubbing over your eyes. you didn't know why you were here, you had been walking through the meadow a few moments prior.

"your fever has returned." he informed you, placing a wet towel on your forehead. you shuddered at the feeling, sinking deeper into the blankets.

"i didn't notice, i'm sorry." he said, his voice having grown more quiet. he felt guilty, he should've noticed that you had grown more ill again.

"don't apologize. it's nothing we could've seen coming." you answered, a quiet chuckle leaving your lips.

he smiled, yet he couldn't unhear how weak your voice has gotten, how you had to exhaust yourself everytime you answered.

Shinobu:

"are you ready for your daily shot?" she asked you, wanting to make sure you're fine. you nodded, trying to force a smile on your face.

she glanced at your face for a short moment, then proceeded to take the syringe in her hand. you had been staying in the butterfly mansion for a while now, but you still didn't look any better.

the sting of the needle barely hurt and feeling the small amount of liquid entering your arm made a weird sensation spread throughout your body.

you wanted to tell Shinobu, but stopped when you saw her face. the smile she tried to keep up vanished every time she had to give you a shot.

you figured that he was worried about your state, not wanting it to worsen. naturally, you brought your hand on top of hers, her eyes meeting yours.

"it's going to be fine." you told her, a weak smile forming on your face. she smiled back. "i know."

she needed to leave a few moments later, telling you to rest some more. your emotional strength was admirable, but it wouldn't keep you safe this time.

how long would she be able to treat you until she gave up fighting a deadly disease?

Mitsuri:

"[name]!" Mitsuri cheered, rushing towards you after she entered your shared estate. it was the first thing she did since you had been bed-ridden.

"i brought you some sakura mochi! i thought sharing some would lift your mood!" she cheered, placing a huge plate of the sweet treat down next to you.

she smiled happily, though her face dropped when she saw your apologetic look. had she done something wrong again?

"thank you, Mitsuri, but i'm not supposed to eat sweets.." you reminded her. now she really lost her smile, looking at the plate and then back at you.

"i'm so sorry! i just wanted to cheer you up!" she whined, her hands immediately coming up to meet yours. she didn't do this will ill intentions, she had just wanted to make your day brighter.

"it's fine. i appreciate the gesture." you comforted her, gently squeezing her hands. at least that's what you tried, but your strength has drastically reduced, making the action barely noticable.

"sit down and tell me about your day. i've been worried about your mission." you said, watching her slowly sit down. she did as you asked, wanting to make you happy.

and as you two sat there, speaking for hours, she didn't notice how you had pushed the sakura mochi further to her - by the end of your conversation the plate was empty.

[al1fers-haven]

Almost Instinctual

Alastor x pregnant!reader

‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️

Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.

Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2

(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)

(8 weeks/2 months)

You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.

Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.

Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.

Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.

And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.

Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.

(12 weeks/3 months)

You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.

Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.

“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.

You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.

Making people uncomfortable.

Cocaine.

And candy crush.

Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.

Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.

Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.

Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.

He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.

Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.

(Unless he was threatening someone.)

(17 weeks/3.2 months)

You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.

Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.

Alastor had been…odd.

He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.

Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.

Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)

You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.

You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.

Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.

Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.

Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.

(20 weeks/4 months)

First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..

You two had grown a bit closer.

Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.

The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it

You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.

He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.

(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)

(25 weeks/5 months)

If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.

You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.

May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.

She asked to be the godmother.

Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.

Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.

(7 months)

Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.

He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)

He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.

Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.

(8 months)

Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.

After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.

He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!

Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…

(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)

[werecreature-addicted]

i love the idea of a werewolf best friend who is totally in love with you and keeps trying to court you but since you're human you're just thinking he's being thoughtful or something

but he busts every night to the thought of you crying into the pillow, his heavy body pressing onto you and pushing you to the mattress, as he fucks his fat cock into you, trying to knot you and knock you up

want so badly to mark you as his that when he even gets a glimpse of your neck/shoulders he salivates and gets hard

werewolf courting is a subtle thing- really it's more about keeping others away from you than winning you over. you don't see all the sharp glares he sends to other people. or the way he snaps at his other friends for mentioning how cute you look.

he's sweet to you. he gives you bites off his plate. and almost always brings you a drink or snack when you hang out together. he'd be leaving kills on your doorstep but apparently it "freaks out the neighbors" and "you don't know what to do with a whole deer carcass" or whatever. humans are so hard to please. those silly little candies you like can't be very filling but he can't shake the urge to feed you. so he does.

He's also very protective. he always walks/ drives you home at the end of the night. he'll be by your side in an instant if you call for him and god help any idiot who tries to fuck with you.

Also, his home is always open to you. if you ever want to come over randomly or borrow something- what's his is yours. you don't realize how territorial he is with everyone else because he's always so generous and giving with you. especially with clothes!! if you want a sweatshirt or a pair of shorts, they're yours. he loves little things like that to make you smell like him.

To any other werewolf, any one of these things would be a clear indication of romantic interest. I mean- the guy lets you eat off his plate! do you have any idea how territorial wolves are with food? No! Of course, you don't you're human. all of it feels normal to you. there might be other things that you take for flirting that he's doing on accident. but really you think of him as a really good friend.

it's hell on your werewolf. He doesn't know what he's doing wrong. he's a perfect mate for you, but you never seem to acknowledge his flirting as something romantic. he hates it when you stretch your head to the side, baring your neck to him, it's like you're begging to be marked. and by "hates" I do mean it gets his mind spinning. it's like you have no idea how hard it is not to bite you sometimes.

He can't help himself. he will keep going until you accept him because he knows that you're the one for him. so he walks you home for the night then goes back to his place, alone, and lays in bed thinking about you.

at first, it's nothing dirty. he's just wondering what the two of you will do when you hang out next, then he's wondering what you're doing right now. did you take a shower? did you go straight to bed? what do you sleep in when you're all alone? what if you sleep in just your underwear- or naked.

he's hard. he always is when he lets himself think about you too much. he can't help it. so he starts touching himself while he lets his mind wander.

it would feel good to bite your neck. it would feel better to bite the soft sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he wants to mark you while he fucks you. he wants to own you inside and out. he knows you'd take his cock well. it's big but you don't mind, right? you'd like a little pain with your pleasure.

he thinks about all the different positions he could put you in. he thinks about you ridding his cock, about flipping you over and pinning your knees to your chest so he can see your face as he ruins you.

he cums all over himself imagining you screaming- begging him to knot you. he can only hope one day his little fantasy will become a reality.

[lbcreations-blog]

Yandere Alastor with daughter reader

A Stag and his Fawn

‐-----‐----‐-----------------------------------

(Not proof read cause I'm tired but I need to post)

Masterlist

---------

Alastor was your adoptive father. He adopted you when you were both still alive. You were only a baby at the time, being left in a dumpster.

When Alastor was dumping bodys in the dumpster he found you, he was originally going to put you in a foster home, but when he saw you open your eyes and look at him seeming at peice, he knew it was a bad idea to put you in any foster home.

Of course, he could not just take you in. He had to get you some medical treatment. So he took you to the nearest hospital to get a check-up and other things. Then he had to do even more other things like birth certificate and adoption stuff. (You know, the essentials)

Anyways, once you were old enough, he taught you his ways of voodoo and murder. (You were already learning from about 4, lmao), and you became a perfect daughter to him (even though you were already perfect to him).

If you were to get bullied in school, those kids would regret it. He would also teach those kids' parents a lesson as well.

If you end up dying before him from it being someone's fault, he would torture that person/persons and eat that person's corpse.

Once he enters hell, he would search for you while aswell becoming a terrifying overlord. And once he finds you, he would pretend you are not his daughter in public so you would not get targeted. He knows you can look after yourself so he would let you in public by yourself, but a shadow will follow you.

But if you are an overlord, he wouldn't admit being your father, but he will treat you like his daughter in public, and he will let others' theories flow. (Overlord or not, a shadow will follow you, btw)

Now, if he dies first, he will patiently wait for you. You, of course, kill the one who mistakes your father for a deer. You then live life how he wanted you to, until you finally arrive in hell.

Once you arrive in hell, he ether will take a while to find you or find you quickly. If you quickly become an overlord just like him, he would be proud, like you have no idea.

(The ways he is with you in hell is the same as I explained in the first death choice.)

Of course, introducing you to people as Alastors' daughter, you will get interesting reactions.

The overlords would be shocked, to say the least, Carmila might like Alastor slightly more cause she has her own daughters.

Now the hotel's reactions ig

Of course, the entire hotel is shocked except for niffty and husk cause yall already probably met (I would tell you that, but that's a different kind of worm)

Anyway, sir pentious would be most likely terrified of you or just won't admit it.

Angel- well, Angel-... he's probably going to start off with sex jokes, and how unfair it is that some random bitch got to fuck Alastor. Your father was not happy.

Vaggie is very suspicious of you once you met. She knew how your father was, so you were not trustworthy. (Which was fair, you showed that same creepy smile your father did)

Charlie loved meeting you. She was and is so happy that Alastor has a daughter and she is and was happy to meet you. She was hoping to help you get redeemed, but you just told her you would rather be in hell with your father.

--------_______--------

I was going to make Alastor more yandere but because of 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠, he's like that, ok? OK

I did get lazy at the end, so... Yyyeeeaaaa

Hope you enjoyed it

- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

[waokevale]

Introducing Follower gang!

There. Finally did all the Bishops follower designs!

The 7 deadly sins

And some other follower gang, done with lineart this time because the other 2 pieces made me lose my soul for how long they took.

(Also a small HC if I may: Dr. Sozonius is trapped inside the mushroom on Sozos head, while the actual mushroom is controlling his body)

+ some more doodles

Info about the 7 Sins and more doodles below:

Jeg represents Greed - he was one of the first of Lamb's followers. (At first, it was very difficult for Lambert to indoctrinate people, due to their inexperience, this guy was like the 5th or so) Jeg has...a very specific personality to say the least, yet the Lamb can't help but be fond of him. They eventually nominate him the Tax enforcer role and...That might've been the worst decision of their life. But they did not take the role away. Jeg acts smug 24/7 and relishes in his new power, but deep down, dudes pretty insecure, ( but don't tell anyone!) He used to have a huge crush on the lamb, but then Narinder and eventually the other bishops came, and since their leader was for some reason head over heels for the ex god of death, Jeg grew bitter and often got into fights with Nari, as well as charging him and his other siblings more than the average follower. Though he's mostly mellowed out since then.

Brash represents Gluttony They despise Helob, since they used to fight for "food" a lot, and eventually Brash got really injured and was found by the Lamb. She tried to eat them, but was quickly disarmed. Despite this, they decided to spare him and bring his sorry ass back to the cult to indoctrinate. They were very cunning and didn't trust the lamb either, but eventually they cooled off and accepted the new life. She still eats people tho, just not from the cult, otherwise jail or *worse*

Yara represents Pride She is one of the core followers. She's very strict and somewhat self-centered, she likes things done her way, or if not her way, the lambs way. Period. No one else can boss her around or even give a helpful advice. She's actually a pretty stand up deer, and despite being incredibly stubborn still makes a good friend. She gets along with most people though Brash annoys her, since he keeps snatching body parts off corpses. She has always been extremely devoted to the lamb and will be annoyed if any follower dissents and tries to preach against them. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when they eventually took down all the bishops.

Thorn represents Envy He had a pretty terrible life before the cult. When he was brought in, she was bitter about her newfound situation. He wasn't very trusting of the lamb and thought they expected something out of her (which technically they did, but it's just work). He envies the fools who are so oblivious and just do everything as they're told and let their lives be guided by some amateur god. Similar to the other two, he puts on a mask, He often acts overly saccharine to hide his true feelings, but doesn't have any bad intentions. (Most of the time) She does genuinely like some people, but others, he only pretends to like to appease the lamb or to blackmail them. He hates when the people he actually cares about are threatened.

Jermo represents Wrath Jermo absolutely does not trust anyone. Similar to Thorn, and most other followers tbh, their life was absolutely horrible prior to the cult. They trusted some people, they got betrayed, and almost died several times because of it. It was extremely difficult for the lamb to make them stop dissenting. They legit had to give them the loyalty necklace in order for them to finally stop dissenting. Jermo keeps getting into fights with other followers, because they feel as though everyone is always against them or is constantly judging them. (They're technically not wrong) They've died 5 times, because they keep getting into fights with other followers. Lamb strongly considered keeping them dead, but decided to challenge themself with them (also they're too cuddly to just be killed off) Despite their many, *many* flaws, Thorn has a huge crush on them, since he's one of the people who managed to see their soft side. Jermo, deep, deep, deep down actually cares a lot, but they've been hurt too much by everyone, so they retaliate for the same stuff to not repeat.

Herett represents Lust At some point, she passingly heard about the cult and since it seemed like a peaceful place from the rumors (and also had hot people in it) she eagerly joined in. She's usually in the kitchen area, if not hanging around the love tent or babysitting some kids. She crushes on almost everyone, but for some reason she hates Kallamar (legit in my actual game she rejected him so hard, despite having the lustful trait and not caring prior)

Mateo represents Sloth Is perhaps the 1st or 2nd of Lambs followers, so they're absolutely not letting go of him, dudes lived 4 long lives and is tired of it, he keeps switching jobs since with age he's been slacking off more. He's currently stuck as a janitor (he hates it) He's also one of the few people who managed to befriend Jermo, his mellow, don't care attitude is somewhat comforting to them. Aside that, he gets along with almost everyone, as best as he can at least.

Not much else to say about the gang in the third pic but Riley and Dannie are platonic bffs and were forced to babysit kids when the lamb was crusading. The lamb was a little incompetent here to give carnivores children to take care of, but thankfully they actually managed to be good with them and got used to being on nanny duty.

The capybara (Beige) is a retired teacher and adopted a little owlet to take care of (Chip)

While Femur is our below yellow cat, and that's my HC name for him. He's a gatherer here.

[victoryverse]

cuddling with him after sex, and he can't help but feel...different? he doesn't really do stay overs and cuddles, but having you close in his arms just after you let him fuck so good makes him happy.

his large body engulfs yours, his chest to your back as he peppers kisses on your neck. you smell of sex and sweat, but it's heaven to him.

"you okay?" you ask him after a while, kissing his wrist that is near your face. he is almost dumbfounded, it is the first time someone's asked him that.

"hm?" he looks at you wide-eyed, and you smile, whispering, "you okay, si? you want something? water? something to eat?"

completely a deer in headlights. don't know how to respond, what to respond. he is used to being by himself after this, falling asleep because he's always so fucking tired.

"uh...no? you want something?"

"no, i'm good."

he nods, even though he knows you can't see him. but you feel him, and snuggle close once again. sounds of his deep breaths fill the room, a comforting tune as you begin to drift off. his hand is beneath your head, a makeshift pillow and a makeshift warm blanket of his large body holding you close and safe.

his hands goes numb after a while, and he's tired. he wants to sleep, but he can't. he is staring at you, your peaceful sleeping face.

maybe he isn't so hated and loathed after all. maybe he too deserves some care, some affection? someone who doesn't leave him and stays by his side, sleeping in his arms because they feel safe.

and that is a big thing for him because he's known to make people scared and unsafe. he's intimidating and frightening, his mask always on his face as he kills and hurts with no remorse.

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

@ilovehobi101

[puzzled-pegasus]

Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use

SkyWings

“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)

“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)

“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)

“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)

“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)

“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)

“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)

“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)

“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)

SandWings

“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)

“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)

“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)

“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)

MudWings

“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)

“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)

“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)

SeaWings

“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)

“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)

“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)

“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)

“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)

NightWings

“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)

“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)

“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)

“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)

"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)

RainWings

“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)

“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)

“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)

“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)

“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)

“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)

“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)

IceWings

“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)

“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)

“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)

“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)

“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight

“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)

HiveWings

“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)

“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)

“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)

SilkWings

“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)

“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)

“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)

LeafWings

“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)

“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)

“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)

“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Great Bucky Bake Off | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 3.5k words

An Avengers retreat takes a turn for the better when Bucky decides to eat your pot brownies… all of the pot brownies.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content. Drinking, casual drug use, Avengers wearing onesies for reasons, very flirty Bucky, p in v & oral sex. Rated R for ridiculous.

A/N: Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Okay, ‘fess up, who ate all my brownies?” You turned to stare down the rest of the team, admittedly a little slow on your feet already.

The scene in the living room could only be described as chaotic. When Tony suggested he fly the team out to his remote cabin for “rest, recuperation and team building”, you had been fully on board. You were even more on board when he had you buy everyone fluffy animal onesies and you’d signed yourself up to a lifetime of being obsessed with your job the day you received an email to source as much weed, alcohol and Asgardian liquor as possible. Being the Avengers PA certainly had its perks. 

“Not me!” Steve admitted, far too quickly. “I didn’t eat them.” He shook his head, sending the dog ears on top of his onesie flopping about. 

You narrowed your eyes, “Well, you sure know something.” He looked the picture of innocence until he pulled Sam into the conversation. 

“Tell 'er Sam, we dunno nothin’ 'bout brownies." 

"Nuthin’” Sam shook his head too, his beer sloshing dramatically in its glass and wetting his hand. “My wings!” He steadied the bottle and brushed the stray liquid from the soft Eagle wings that made up the arms of his outfit.

“Have you spoken to James?” Natasha asked, leaning next to you and swiping crumbs from the plate, the last of the joint you’d shared placed delicately between her fingers. Somehow she managed to make the black onesie look very stylish, the arms rolled up to the silvery spiderwebs embroidered on the elbows and shoulders.

“James? Bucky?" 

Organising and taking part in retreats was your second favourite part of your job. Bucky took the top spot, miles ahead of everything else with his handsome, stubbled face and gruff but gentlemanly manner. Despite being part of the team for a while, he still kept to the background, staying out of the way and keeping quiet. He was always especially polite to you, holding the door and making sure you were included all the time, even if he never really stayed that long at Stark’s parties or Steve’s team building exercises.

Deep down you hoped it was because he saw you the same way you saw him, in your dreams, surrounded by little hearts. 

But life just wasn’t that kind, and you took his friendship gladly if that was all he could give. 

"Why would Bucky eat them, can he even get high?” You slid forwards, leaning on the counter and clutching the empty tray. 

“Bambi!” The four of you whipped around, surprised. Bucky bounced into the room with an enthusiasm that Steve hadn’t seen for decades. He also had chocolate on his cheeks and crumbs all down his front making him instantly guilty. You looked down at your onesie, light brown and speckled like a deer with tiny antlers on the hood. 

“Ha, yeah, like Bambi.” You giggled.

“And I’m Thumper!” He laughed back pulling the hood of his own pyjamas up and letting the long, grey, ears drop in front of his face. 

“Because you punch people?” You were momentarily confused, your brain refusing to work and instead focusing on the too tight fabric around Bucky’s arms. 

Behind you Sam coughed to cover his laughter and Natasha turned away, eyes full of mirth. 

“No! Thumper in Bambi!" 

"The girl rabbit?” Tony dropped down onto the huge sectional couch, surprisingly sober. Although you were sure that had more to do with promising Pepper to keep the cabin safe, rather than any personal choice. 

“Thumper is a boy.” Bucky insisted, eyes never leaving yours, his smile boyish and relaxed.

“How would you know?” Sam scoffed, leaning over the back of the couch, positively gleeful when Steve whispered that Bambi was also a boy and they fell back laughing together.

“Because, Sam, I’ve seen Bambi." 

"What?” Tony’s snort of derision didn’t go unnoticed, but you shot him a glare. This was possibly the most relaxed you’d ever seen Bucky, you wouldn’t be letting anyone, including your boss, spoil it. 

“I saw Bambi, in 1942, when it first came out,” he said proudly. 

“That’s right, I remember!” Steve jumped up, the Asgardian liquor cocktail that Natasha had rustled up earlier starting to take effect. “We went with your sisters, Rebecca cried when Bambi’s mom got shot and he was all alone." 

"Don’t spoil it, Stevie.” Bucky chastised, turning back to you as quickly as possible, “Have you seen it? Do you want to see it? We could see it?”

You nodded but he ignored you, continuing to talk as he got closer and closer, backing you into the kitchen island where the empty brownie tray dropped with a clang. 

"We can go, I’ll take you, Saturday, you can have as much popcorn and soda as you like.” His right hand swayed by his side, nudging closer to yours until your fingers touched. “What d'ya say?" 

Every fibre of your being screamed yes, just as you’d internally jumped for joy whenever he came by your office or handed you a coffee. But those times you were sober, calm, collected. Now you were four drinks and half a joint deep, floating off into the clouds. Professional judgement be damned. 

So you screamed "Yes!” outloud for once. 

He beamed, throwing his arms around you and squeezing just a little too tight until you squeaked. “Good, gonna be my best girl, my Bambi and I’ll be Thumper, buy you lots of popcorn and - oh - you’re really soft.” His hands found the back of your hood, pulling it up to sit on top of your head, letting it fall into your eyes. 

“Yeah it’s nice, right?” 

“S’fluffy.” Bucky’s thumbs brushed over your lips and down your neck, just inside the hood for a moment, before finding your shoulders and arms, rubbing the fuzzy material until you felt static build on your skin. “You’re really cute, y’know,” he whispered. “My own little Bambi.”

“I know.” You giggled back, picking up the joint again so you’d had something to do with your hands other than grip the front of your own outfit. 

“We didn’t smoke weed back in the day,” he said, conversationally, as if he didn’t have his hands in your pockets, pulling out your lighter and a lip balm. 

“No?” You took a drag, blowing the smoke to the side politely. 

“Did a lot of cocaine though, keep us awake on missions.” 

“Jesus. That’s…intense.” 

He nodded, watching your fingers against your lips, the little pout when you exhaled. 

“Can I?” 

“You ate a whole tray of brownies, Bucky, I don’t know if you should have anymore.” You extended your arm away from his grabby hands, hoping Natasha would come and take it away again, but to no avail. Instead, he lifted you onto the counter, pinned your leg down and followed the line of your arm to your outstretched hand. His lips brushed the backs of your fingers when he took the twist of paper into his lips. You waved him over and he held his breath as he returned to you, leaning in close and only exhaling when you pulled your hoods together, his nose against yours. 

Instinctively you inhaled, the rush of smoke and the smell of Bucky was overwhelming. You giggled again, trapping him against you with an arm around his neck and your legs around his waist. 

“Haven’t shotgunned since college.” You smiled, everything was so floaty and soft, fuzzy round the edges and so fucking warm. When did it get so warm? 

“You know with your floppy ears you could be-” your laughter bubbled up, cutting you off, “you could- sorry - oh my god - you could be Bucks Bunny!" 

Bucky did not seem to like that nickname as much as Thumper and told you so, pouting until you let him take another long drag. 

Time seemed to slow down between Bucky’s words, his hands, the way your glass of wine felt in your hand and the texture of his onesie. They were a good idea, so soft, good for petting, and Bucky was petting you too. His right hand was burning hot, even through the thick material, the pads of his fingers were calloused and rough, but the palm was soft. His left hand was so rigid, making a whirring noise. When you put your cheek to the artificial bicep it ticked pleasantly and you smiled, sighing and closing your eyes so you could concentrate on the joined sounds of Bucky’s heart and his prosthesis. In turn, Bucky held you gently, his metal fingers gentle on your back where he kept you snuggled in tight beside him. 

You were faintly aware of the ongoing chatter across the room, but it had faded away into background static. Your soul focus was on the way two of Bucky’s eyebrow hairs stuck out from the others, the little patch of grey forming in his stubble, the dark fleck of colour in his iris, the way his mouth looked saying your name. Oh shit, he’s saying your name, say something back! 

“Uh huh, yeah, uhm - maybe?” 

He tipped his head to the side, bunny ears flopping over too, and came closer again. His hands on your cheeks. “I’ll help you.” He leant forwards to rest his forehead against yours. 

“What’ya doing?” You tried to look at your forehead too but your eyes seemed to stop when they got to your eyelashes. Annoying. 

“Telling you what I’m thinking without saying it.” 

“Oh, is it working?” 

“You have to tell me that, silly!”

“I don’t think it’s working,” you whispered, loudly, and Natasha groaned from the sofa closest to the kitchen. 

“These two are out, done, nothing more for them,” she declared, waving her glass of red wine. 

A chorus of yes and agreed sounded from the remaining Avengers. Clint had already fallen asleep across one of the arm chairs, his beer dribbling onto his shirt from the neck of the bottle. Steve and Sam were deep in debate about the merits of Japanese whiskey over original scotch whisky and Tony was watching you both intently, his own glass of Glengoyne warming in his hand. The way the condensation formed under his fingers was fascinating, and you told Bucky as much, pulling him close to your cheek so you could get the same view. 

 “I concur, what did you do to my PA, Barnes?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bad influence.” 

“She’s not you PA, she’s our PA. So she’s ours to influence,” he returned, proudly. 

Tony just continued to stare, pointedly, sipping his drink.

“What you gonna influence me to do, Buck?” You kicked your legs against the kitchen counter, a picture of innocence, and Tony laughed into his drink. 

But Bucky looked at you very seriously, bent to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, his leg between yours, muscular and firm despite the fluffy clothes. 

“I’m gonna influence you to steal all of Stark’s M&Ms.” He tried to keep quiet but ended up choking out the end of his sentence around his own uncontrollable giggles. 

“Oh my god, you know he has me take the red ones out, says they’re smug. I have so many red M&Ms in my flat.” 

“Hey, that’s supposed to be a secret!” 

“Wanna eat all the red ones I brought with me?” 

Bucky helped you down from the counter and then across to the pantry where you’d stashed the huge bags of snacks and sweets when you first arrived. Despite Steve’s shouts of leaving some for everyone, you closed the door and sat down, ready to tuck in, wrappers and chocolate littering the floor while you dug about for your favourites. Bucky sat on the floor, encouraging you to sit between his legs, keeping his hands moving over the downy material of your onesie. 

“Okay, Bambi, what’ve you got for me?” 

Before you could even attempt to feed him anything, Steve wrenched the door open, hands on his hips. “I think you need to sleep this one off, not eat more chocolate,” he insisted, waving at you both to get back up. 

“Nuh-uh, Steve, not leaving.” Bucky tightened his arms around your waist and nuzzled into the back of your neck. “You smell like cake,” he exclaimed, happily, ignoring Steve. 

“Sam! Can you help me shift Bucky?!” 

“What about me?” You pouted, holding Bucky’s hands around your waist. 

“You need to go to bed as well.” Natasha extended her hand to yours in an effort to pull you off the floor, but Bucky’s grip was too strong. 

Eventually, it took everyone to wrestle you away from Bucky and bundle you into your room. In the corridor, Bucky howled his anger, breaking out of his room to easily find you in yours. 

“Bambi! There you are! Those awful hunters took you!” he cooed, squishing your cheeks again and kissing your pouty lips. Deep down your brain registered that this was your first kiss with him, that the man who had been consuming your thoughts for months was actually kissing you, willingly, and had broken a door so he could get close enough to do so. 

“Buh-kee, it was just Nat and Tony,” you drawled, your lips moving gently against his, reluctant to pull away. 

“I know, but I didn’t like it, wanna stay here with you.” 

Natasha, who was still trying to wrestle you into bed, gave up. “If you two stay in here together, and stay out of trouble, I won’t say anything.” She pointed at you both, eyebrows slightly raised. 

“Promise I’ll be good, Natty.” You fluttered your eyelashes at her dramatically, hoping to seem more trustworthy, but she just rolled her eyes. “Fine, stay here.” 

And then you were alone. 

You hesitated for a moment, watching the slow movement of Bucky’s face, fascinated by the way the muscles tightened minutely when he smiled. 

“I’m going to kiss you again now,” he stated, so formal that you broke out into another fit of laughter which made you hiccup and grab for his chest to steady yourself. 

He ignored you, bending his head and catching your lips with his, messy and rushed. 

“You taste real nice, you know?” Bucky licked across your lips again, swallowing your giggles. 

“You taste nice too, ate all my damn brownies.” With a long lick up his chocolate smeared cheek, you kissed him back, tangling your hands in his hair, trying to push the too hot, stuffy, fluffy, onesie off his shoulders. 

Bucky shrugged, and sat back to push the material down to his hips. Your eyes followed the movements of his hands, the way each inch of muscle revealed itself and, suddenly, you were hungry again, lunging forwards to bury your face between his pecs. Starting at his sternum, you kissed further and further down, shoving him backwards so you could climb on top of him, nipping and kissing bruises in a slow trail towards the end of the zipper. With a twist of his wrist, his cock sprang free from its confines and you bent down to lick the pearlescent precum leaking from his tip. 

“Fuck, Bambi.” He dropped his head back, one hand gripping the pillows and the other cupping the back of your head while you licked the head like an ice cream. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” 

You sat back on your heels, letting your fingers dance up and down his cock. “Feels soft,” you observed, thoughtfully, “Hard and soft at the same time, isn’t that funny?” 

Bucky couldn’t reply, he just laid back, watching the woman he’d pined after for months finally touch him the way he’d dreamed. It seemed surreal to be here, in your bed, with your hands all over his body like you owned it. Well, he thought, you did own it, you just didn’t really understand that yet. 

“I wanna touch you, too,” he insisted, “Can I?” His hands hovered over your clothes, so close to the zipper his fingertips brushed it when you breathed. You nodded and he lowered the metal slowly. 

Everything seemed slow now, even his voice, mumbling against your skin when he kissed down your breasts and took your nipple into his mouth. When he bit down a little, you giggled, his fingers tickling your sides, until you were both laughing again, half in and half out of your onesies, brains full of cotton wool and lust and nerves. 

“Hey, hey.” You tugged on his hair until he looked up, resting his cheek on your belly. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Yes, I’m so good with secrets!” He crawled back over your body, lowering his face close to yours. “You can whisper it or you can do it telepathically.” 

“I’m not telepathic, Bucky.” 

“Sure, like this.” He dropped his forehead to yours. “I know all your secrets now.” 

“No, you don’t!” You shoved him, but he didn’t move. 

“I do!”

“Tell me then.” 

His eyes roamed over your face, from your eyes to your lips as if he couldn’t help it. “You like me.” 

“Everyone likes you, Buck, you just think they don’t.” 

“No you like me, you want to step out with me, be my best girl.” He looked overjoyed to have revealed your secret before you could. “Am I right?”

“Don’t be mean to me, Barnes.” 

“I’m not being mean, I read your mind.” 

“You know what? Fuck off.” You shoved a second time, but he still didn’t move. 

“Wanna read my mind? I’ll help.” His forehead met yours again, sweat beading along your hairline from the stress of being so clearly seen by the man you’d been fantasising about for months. Before you could protest that only he could read minds while high, he was kissing you again. Slow and steady, his tongue nudging your lips gently until you opened for him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting the feeling of petal soft kisses take over you. 

He moved away only enough to take off his now too warm onesie, as well as your own, leaving you both naked and tangled together on the bed. He couldn’t get enough of touching you, he felt buoyant, happy in a way that he hadn’t for months, years, and he never wanted it to end. His fingers tingled when they touched you, though it was becoming harder and harder to stay in control. 

“Bucky, I want you,” you managed to squeak out between kisses, fumbling awkwardly between you both, hoping he understood.

"I want you too.” He nodded, bumping your heads together. 

You wriggled beneath him, guiding him between your legs until he was buried inside of you. 

“Damn it, Bambi, you feel soft everywhere.” His wide eyed expression made you smile.

“You’re kinda soft too, Bucky.” This side of him was one you’d been dying to see, unguarded and playful. 

He nuzzled your cheek and began to move, tentative at first and then faster. In your dreamy state, it was hard to know where you started and ended or how long you’d been locked together. 

You moved as one, slow and steady, enjoying the feel of each other’s warm skin and chocolate sweet kisses, breaking every now and again to stare at each other in awe. 

Bucky seemed to sense your approaching release before you did, speeding up when you fluttered around him, the erratic movement of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until you both tumbled out. The pillows and sheets followed soon after, dropping on you in an avalanche of goose down and brushed cotton. 

You both paused in shock, your giggles broken by your fall, but then he was pulling you back down on top of him and holding your hips steady. 

“Bucky, I wanna - I gotta -” Your hand drifted between you again to touch your sensitive clit, just a little more pressure and you could feel your orgasm building. The tightness of your pleasure started between your legs and radiated out to your toes, making them curl against the sheepskin rug beneath you. 

Bucky followed after you, unable to control himself from the onslaught of sensation your clenching heat provided. 

You woke the next day in a tangle of limbs and bedding, your back sore from sleeping on the floor all night and your brain fuzzy. Beside you, still with a smear of chocolate on his cheek, Bucky continued to sleep. 

[luveline]

my lovely jade would you consider writing more about new to the team reader and fresh out of prison spencer?😇🩷i'd really love anything, they make me kick my feet and blush so bad!🥰 love you <3

love you gorgeous <3

“Here.” Spencer puts a granola bar on top of your notebook. 

It slides down the slopes of the page into the centre and disrupts your train of thought. Your stomach stirs, remembered, and your fingertips shake ever so slightly as they curl around his gift. “Thank you,” you say, the grit of the packaging like a pinprick. “Sorry, I was somewhere else.” 

“If you don't eat, you'll get foggy, and then you'll be unhappy,” he says, sitting in the chair between yours and Emily's. 

“And you need a clear mind to work,” Emily says. 

She's Unit Chief, as formidable as her predecessors, but it's her demeanour that intimidates you. She's confident in how much she cares about people and she won't let you forget what this is all for, nor the strength of it. You find yourself nodding like an obedient puppy whenever she talks —whenever any of them talk. 

Spencer watches your expression. You aren't sure why. “And less coffee.”

“That's a little hypocritical,” Emily says, her voice stretching with humour, “but I'll allow it.” 

“That's why her hands are shaking.” He nods to the granola bar, and when you struggle to open it, he reaches for it with a gentle touch. “Do you think you might have a low tolerance for caffeine?” 

The shaking worsens at the question, though it's innocent enough. You don't want to explain why you're shaking because you know it paints a poor picture of professionalism, but you can't lie to them. It almost feels like the idea of shoplifting, the fear of being caught. You desperately want them to like you, trust you, and respect you, and lying this early on won't help that. 

“I need to do better,” you say. 

“You're doing amazing,” Spencer says, as Emily asks, “Why do you say that?” 

“I'm having trouble, uh, sleeping. And remembering to eat enough. That's why I'm shaking so badly. It'll go away soon, I promise.” 

“Are you drinking any water?” Emily stands. “You have to stay on top of this stuff.” 

She stalks off looking pissed. You wince, and Spencer puts the now opened granola bar in your hand, curling your fingers around it nicely. “Here, take your time.” 

You are shamefully desperate for reassurance. “Is she angry?”

“Yeah, she's mad.” Spencer doesn't smile. His voice doesn't betray much else. “She wasn't always good at taking care of herself, either, but now she doesn't have a choice. She has to be the best, and she has to make you the best you can be. Which is why she's angry.” 

“That I'm not currently at my best,” you surmise. 

“That she didn't notice.” He takes a pen from his pocket and a post it note from the table. “But Emily doesn't need to worry, because I'm here, and I would've looked after you anyways, even if she wasn't Unit Chief.” 

You take a bite of granola bar to pretend he hasn't winded you. I would've looked after you anyways. He writes a quick list as you chew, unaware of his affect on you or choosing to ignore it. 

He hands you the note. 

2 meals

4 glasses of water 

4 cups of coffee

702-555-0103

“I already have your phone number,” you say, hot in the face. 

“And you could stand to use it more often.” He takes your shoulder into his hand and leans in, giving you a nice squeeze, his thumb rubbing a line into your blouse. “Yeah? I know this is all harder than it looks. I promise I get it.” His voice creeps down into a more playful teasing, “Why are you so reluctant to call me? You're breaking my heart.” 

You laugh breathlessly. He pats your shoulder. “Finish that, okay? I'll go find us something more substantial for lunch.” 

Obviously you want him to take care of you, whatever that means, but it's still startling. He's smart, and so, so pretty, and he has this obsession with teasing you… if he even knows he's doing it. 

“Oh, Y/N?” he asks from the door. You look up, eyes wide, a deer in his headlights. “You really are doing amazing.” 

“Thank you.” 

Emily comes in a few seconds after he leaves, the biggest bottle of water you've ever seen in her hand, her eyebrows raised sceptically. “What's he smiling about?” 

You clear your throat. “I’m not sure.” 

[libraryraccoon]

A Penguin And The Angel Of Death

Gift for : @deadghosy

Gender : Penguin

Pronouns : They/Them

Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.

TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.

How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.

Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.

"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.

Friendship. Instantly.

He was your platonic soulmate.

I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.

The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.

“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.

You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.

Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.

"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.

“Yo bitch.”

They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.

"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.

You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.

Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.

Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.

Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.

Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.

You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.

Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.

Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.

You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.

You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.

I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.

I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.

It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.

It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.

They had a party to celebrate it.

No one can fuck with you.

Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.

Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.

Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.

And it works.

I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"

Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.

The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.

Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️

Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.

Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.

But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..

Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.

The best moments are those of hugs.

Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.

Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?

I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-

You are always in the middle of family hugs.

Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..

LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.

[misslycoris]

PLATONIC

𐂂 Oh best believe he's not gonna take you seriously at the beginning of your so-called friendship, I don't even think he considers it as one.

𐂂 He just considers you as one of the many people he knows. He also definitely doesn't think of you as an equal or anyone significant.

𐂂 He'll probably acknowledge your existence if you were a part of the hotel, but if you were just a random demon off the streets then no, he has better things to do with his time. Not unless you do something that grabs his attention.

𐂂 Deliberately trying to be on his good side won't affect him in any way, he's used to that treatment, therefore what you're doing is nothing special.

𐂂 But what does grab his attention? Subtle things. Giving him his space, if you have a phone or any technology invented beyond the 1930s you generally try and avoid him, thanking him as he passes you your portion of the meal he cooks for hotel bonding nights that Charlie mandated. Stuff like that when added up makes Alastor generally more appreciative of your existence.

𐂂 Only then you're upgraded from an acquaintance to an acquaintance that isn't as annoying to be around as the rest.

𐂂 That's when he strikes up random conversations with you, he appreciates it if you take the time to listen and add to it, even more so if you actually set aside something you were doing just to talk with him. It gives him a mini ego boost every time.

𐂂 Writing something while he talks about the hotel's structural problems? His smile widens when you close your notebook and join him by recounting the time you almost fell down the balcony.

𐂂 Eating breakfast and he talks about how he hunts the perfect deer for venison? There you are, chewing your food and nodding, listening to how he graphically describes the process while the rest of the hotel stares at him in horror.

𐂂 Another thing he does during this phase is popping out of nowhere and keeping up with what you're doing, call it interest, call it curiosity, or maybe it's boredom. Now that Alastor knows that you are more tolerant of him he'll fully use that to his entertainment.

𐂂 I can see him trying to get a deal out of you but it doesn't go anywhere, since I'm going to assume we are all smart enough to not hand our souls to Alastor on a silver platter.

𐂂 Survive his onslaught of impromptu shenanigans and move on to the next tier of actually being friends.

𐂂 Alastor treats his friends as his equals so there's that, also be ready to accept his invites to drinking coffee around the hotel and talking about the latest mess the hotel went through.

𐂂 The way he treats you compared to how he treats Angel or Husk is way different that it physically gives everyone a whiplash. I'm talking about something like this:

"Can you not scare off people, smiles? We're tryna bring in people into the hotel." Angel explains, Alastor only simpers as he feigns ignorance.

"Why, I don't know what you're talking about!" He laughs as he skips off merrily. Charlie and Vaggie then nod to each other and drag you into the conversation, whispering you something before they push you towards Alastor.

"Hey Alastor, I just wanted to ask if you could help me with something?" You ask, you haven't made up a chore to ask for help from him but you needed a reason to try and stop him from scaring any potential guests. Does Alastor know? I guarantee you he does. But does he let you do it anyways? Yes, absolutely he does.

"Anything to help a dear out, if you'll excuse us then!" Alastor bids goodbye for the both of you as you walk away, despite being the one to ask him, he was the one leading the way.

𐂂 Alastor also invites you to meet Rosie! Rosie finds you very endearing and if you had a penchant for cannibalism expect luncheons together with them.

𐂂 By this point everyone in the hotel notices how Alastor gravitates towards you, they have mixed reactions to it but the general consensus is to not disrupt your "bonding sessions" as Charlie puts it.

𐂂 Alastor oftentimes shares jokes whether or not you appreciate his humor. Side note, Alastor full-on cackles if you or Rosie say something outta pocket about somebody, and hangouts with both of them are generally a good time. He'll try to say shit like:

"Let's be nicer now." All the while he holds in a laugh after you and Rosie called Susan the wicked bitch of the West.

𐂂 This is also a silly thought of mine, but picture this:

You decided to stay up late one night after you decided to do whatever it is you were putting off and after a while, you decided to grab some coffee from downstairs.

Arriving at the kitchen you see, this eldritch abomination in the shadows looming over the cabinet where the instant coffee packets were kept. It then takes you a few seconds to register that it was Alastor and you were just left standing by the kitchen doorway, wondering what to say.

"Can I grab the coffee packets from that cabinet over there?" You point towards the cabinet, Alastor then quickly shifts back to his usual form and ushers you to the kitchen counter.

"Nonsense my dear! Why don't I make us some nice and hot coffee instead of consuming such tasteless things." Alastor insists and before you could even refuse he was already doing a French press.

𐂂 Though as you can imagine Alastor has his off days, he makes it clear to you when he isn't in the best of moods and you steer clear of him per his request. Then the fight with Adam happened. As the rest of the hotel was busy with rebuilding the hotel, you were balancing both looking for Alastor and helping paint the walls of the new hotel.

𐂂 This is when the remaining walls he had crumbled down as you find him at his lowest, basically defeated and while he was royally pissed when someone saw him in such a vulnerable state, you were the best option out of the ensemble that was currently singing outside of the ruins of his old radio station.

𐂂 Hesitant as he was, he let you dress his wound with bandages, he wasn't comfortable with anything else you offered, not with cleaning up the wound itself, not with telling the rest that he was alive, and definitely not asking for help from anyone either. So you stayed there for a while after you finished dressing his wound up, his blood immediately soaking through the bandage. But you didn't say anything and let Alastor be, and after a few more minutes in silence, he got up and offered you a hand as if he wasn't the one who needed it. The only thing he says is:

"We mustn't dilly-dally now, the rest are waiting for you." Not us, just you. It sounded bitter but you didn't say anything.

ROMANTIC(? AS MUCH AS ALASTOR CAN BE AT LEAST)

𐂂 Romantic isn't the right word for Alastor, I imagine him to be somebody who doesn't outright say his feelings but there's a gradual change, and then one day, before you know it people around the hotel will start asking you if you two were a thing. He's not going to acknowledge the change verbally, but he does notice it and acknowledges it in his own way.

𐂂 Don't get me wrong he's capable of being romantic, acts of service is his go-to, and on days that he feels like it he can be very vocal with his affections. But it's not an everyday occurrence.

𐂂 This only starts right after something like seeing him at his lowest, that for me is when I feel like he's more willing to be more open to you. I mean, you've already seen him at rock bottom, so why not?

𐂂 Go to him during your more vulnerable moments, he's done it to you so he expects the same. Trust goes both ways after all.

𐂂 It starts out small, if you were used to setting things aside just to listen to him ramble, wait until you start to notice that he's doing the same thing for you. Usually when you're discussing something he multitasks, of course he still listens but efficiency is of the essence. Eventually though, he starts to physically put aside anything he is doing, showing that you have his full attention.

𐂂 There are also times when you (and the rest of the hotel) notice that your portion in meals that he cooked has significantly more than what the others have on their plates. Anyone who complains gets told that they were only imagining it by Alastor.

𐂂 Alastor also gradually becomes more lenient with you, letting you get away with a lot more than you should. Steal his monocle? He'll wear his glasses as he searches for you in the hotel. Break something by accident? He'll be by your side telling you to be more careful as he picks up every broken piece before you hurt yourself.

𐂂 Adjustment is key, I can see the other party doing more of it but he also makes an effort to meet you halfway. Are you particularly touchy? He doesn't get it but he knows it makes you happy so he makes an effort to accommodate you.

𐂂 Words of affirmation? Since he gets to see you get all flustered he's up for it! He finds you adorable whenever you do.

𐂂 Alastor tries for you, tries to navigate all of those unfamiliar territories that he's never had the chance to explore to ensure that you don't feel like the only one in your relationship. It does feel like it sometimes, I won't sugarcoat it, Alastor at heart is a man cold and sharp on the edges, but he isn't Alastor if he wasn't and he still cares for you all the same even if he doesn't show it.

𐂂 I'd say the most romantic part of the day for the both of you would be reading together in his room, fire crackling as you sit on the floor (much to Alastor's protest) while you lean against Alastor's chair. Sometimes he sneaks a peek into your book just to see what you were reading out of curiosity, and you'd rather not tell him that you could see him doing it from his reflection through the small mirror he had hanging by one of his shelves.

𐂂 Pet names for days! Yes he does call you chere, next question please. Pet names become more frequent the closer you two become, although, the more personal nicknames would be said behind closed doors. The most he'll call you in public would be darling, he didn't need to air out every part of his life and you both were content at that. Also, call me crazy, delusional even, but hear me out here sharks:

You were sitting by the fire, with Alastor still complaining that sitting on the floor was nowhere near as comfortable as you said it was, you only laughed lightly at how much of a fuss he's kicking up.

"I won't die a second time just because I decided to sit on the floor Al. Besides, you're a lot closer if I sit here. I like it like that. So let me have this one, please?" You don't know why, but he stops in the middle of his tangent. Something about what you just said struck something in him that got him laughing softly, even going so far as to ruffle your hair ever so gently.

"Oh, you dear old thing. I suppose I can't stop you." He eventually takes his hand back and goes back to reading as he hums together with the faint melody of jazz in the air.

𐂂 Alastor helps you dress up if you ask, need help with a zipper you can't quite reach? Hold his staff for a moment while he does. Can't pick between two things? Ask him and he'll give you his opinion, he'll often say you'll look just as lovely wearing either one but he does have his choice.

𐂂 You don't sleep in the same rooms unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you see it, if you're a part of the rehabilitation program you both would have a separate room of your own. Neither of you made any plans of asking Charlie to move you to his room or vice versa either since you were both unprepared for whatever questions she may have so you both agreed to put it off, there really was no urgency or need to stay in the same room anyways.

𐂂 Letters! Events like Valentine's Day never interested Alastor, there was no one to spend it with so he never needed to worry about it. But with you in the picture he starts to think otherwise, you both rarely ask for anything from the other so gifts would have to be purely given by initiative, and now was the perfect time. It takes Alastor an almost embarrassingly long amount of time to settle on writing you a letter, a heartfelt one dedicated to thanking you for being a part of his afterlife, for being someone he can trust, and for making the days less monotonous for him. Imagine his surprise when he hands you a letter only for you to give one of your own. You both share a laugh and settle down by the fire, reading your letters together as Alastor sits down on the floor together with you just this once to humor you he says.

𐂂 All in all, it takes a while, but with time, patience, and I mean a lot of it, you'll get there.

╭┉┉┅┄┄┈•◦_•◦❥•◦_

Interested in hearing me yap even more? Give Signed, Alastor a go if you have the time. It's about a bat and a deer faffing around until they sort their feelings out.

[falling-star-cygnus]

even more miscellaneous Hazbin Headcanons bc the brainrot is keeping me here

"with the punch of a pentagram, a-wap bap boom! Alakazam~"

Alastor and Lucifer's skins have a layer of fuzz over them that only makes them look smooth -> Alastor is coarser then Lucifer though, feeling like deer skin//hair rather then baby bird fuzz {please don't ask why i've thought about this, i don't even know}

On the other side, Niffty has porcelain smooth skin like a nesting doll

Alastor made Vaggie cry when she was having a bad day and he panicked so hard at making a lady sad that he let her touch his ears to calm down before Charlie found out -> they don't talk about it

Speaking of his ears, Angel Dust referred to them as 'handlebars' once and nearly got bludgeoned by the coffee table Alastor threw at him -> all of the hotel goers had to intervene before he tried again

After Pentious' 'death', Alastor leaves a piece of his coat at his memorial but hides it behind his picture so that no one can tell -> In an AU where he does stay a sinner, Al ends up making a deal with Pentious to fix his microphone {the deal being; if you fix my staff with your surprisingly competent machinery knowledge and keep your mouth shut about it, i'll stop pretending that i don't know you}

Lucifer walks in on Alastor reading with the egg bois one day and just shouts "Stop stealing people's kids!" before turning on his heel and walking back out {he comes back in with his own book}

Lucifer and Vaggie have weekly meet-ups where they eat icecream, watch soaps, and gossip about heaven -> Charlie is just happy they get along

and finally, a self indulgent hc where Alastor notices Husk falls asleep at the bar a lot and, after the events of Mimzy, gets him a card suit patterned pillow that he leaves under the shelf -> Husker doesn't acknowledge it directly, but he does make sure Alastor sees him use it

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Idk if you remember but you wrote a small drabble where reader was konigs secret admirer and it's been eating at my brain ever since😭 would you ever consider making it an actual story?

Oh I fell in love with the concept too! Here's a part 2 to that little drabble, I humbly offer it to you with my fluffy little paws ^^

CW: 18+ smut, fluff. Nothing bad here, just sweetness. Ok maybe a tiny bit of biting and light angst because it’s König after all... (Part 1 here)

He still doesn’t know who the mystery girl is.

She likes to tease him with cute messages and a photo of her tits but won’t tell him her name or where she lives. The girl won’t come to meet him so that he can show her some love, nor will she agree to go on a date with him. She just responds to his pathetic suggestions with a bundle of emojis that are about to drive him crazy, and another message that says: “Soon!” 

König has to fall back on the bed and go to sleep with a rock hard dick and a set of twitching, lonely hands. His dream of having a proper girlfriend was shoved on the back burner ever since he joined the Jagdkommando, but now there’s a certain girl inside his head, a new, even better dream he can’t repel. The next day is no better; he even forgets what he was supposed to bring home from the store, knowing his mom will only sigh and tell him they’ll survive without some ingredient they both know is very well essential.

He stands before the butters and spreads, trying to recall what his mother wanted when he hears a soft gasp further down the aisle. He turns his head and barely catches the sight of a woman, turning in her heels and rushing down the flour section, just somewhere out of sight.

Hope and curiosity spark inside him as he leaves the butter and darts after her, calling “Hey” and “Wait” between the shelves as she flits towards the cashier in mild terror. He chases her as if he were trying to catch a thief, and the girl picks up her pace, then slows down to a complete halt… and turns.

Lovely, fearful eyes behold him the immediate second she meets his gaze, immobile hands clutching a bag of croissants and a jar of chocolate butter against her chest.

He slows down his jog and arrives in front of her with a smile, but the girl only looks more and more afraid. Even her jaw is clenched shut, the spitting image of a prey who just got caught.

“You’re her, aren’t you? The mystery girl,” he asks, trying to make it clear as day just how excited he is to finally meet her in person.

Her eyes stay wide as she blinks, the little bag of croissants crunching a bit further in her grip as she tries to shield her vital parts.

“Are you done shopping…?”

Still no answer.

She’s shy, just like he is... Maybe even more so, which is incredibly endearing: the same girl who sent him a picture of her boobs last night, the same girl who had no trouble teasing him to the point of leaking cum all over his sheets is as shy as a deer when caught in daylight. 

It’s so incredibly cute… He thought she was a seductress of the most dangerous kind, but here she is now, looking up at him as if he was some boogieman about to come and snatch her away.

His smile only widens as he looks at his little minx who just tried to run away from the individual she’s sent postcards and love letters to ever since they were kids… Who knew his secret admirer was a bashful little cutie who sneaks around the local store to get herself some sweets and snacks?

“Let me pay for those,” he gestures at the products in her hand. 

Another awkward silence follows until she finally turns her eyes to the floor and nods.

Perhaps it’s not that odd that she sent him anonymous notes and talked to him in texts and letters if she’s this timid -- he of all people should know how tough it is to walk to someone he likes and tell them he wants to go out. But he can’t help but wonder if the girl is mute, or partly deaf, or both. He wouldn’t mind. As long as they understand each other, it’s perfectly fine. 

She looks at him like he’s a god —or a monster—while he pays for her humble delicacies. She stares at him with eyes still wide while putting the groceries inside a tiny cotton bag she has with her, and says nothing when he extends his hand towards her. 

“Here. Give it to me.”

He’s trying to act the part of a gentleman to the full, and she offers the floor a tiny smile while handing him the bag. It weighs less than a half kilo, but the gesture is all that seems to matter because she is indeed smiling, shy and pleased as he shoulders the so called burden for her.

“I can walk you home if you like?” he suggests while pushing the door open for her. 

She steps out into the luminous sunlight, eyes squinting a little from the sudden brightness. Then she turns to him and says her first meek words.

“But... Then you’ll know where I live…”

“Ah! She talks,” he laughs with a full smile and watches with a spreading warmth in his chest how she starts to grin, too. She’s looking at the asphalt and her shoes but she’s smiling, incredibly beautiful and pretty, outshining even the prettiest summer day.

“Don’t worry,” he starts to banter with increasing confidence—when has he ever teased anyone, let alone been confident around a girl he likes? “I promise I won’t come howling under your window at night...”

“It’s… It’s not that,” she laughs and bites her bottom lip. “I still live with my mom…”

She starts to walk towards where he lives, and he follows, his long legs catching up with her with ease. 

“There was the COVID, and my mom is a little unwell… And with the economy… I’m still a student,” she explains while they stroll down the street.

“Really? I’m a student, too.”

“Oh…? What are you studying?”

“How to kill people,” he shrugs, cursing his stupid carefree mouth immediately. “Fuck… Sorry. That was… I mean, I’m in the army.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles.

He sneaks a peek her way, and she indeed doesn’t seem to be shocked in the slightest. Far more frightened she looked at the store when he noticed her and began to chase the poor girl. 

They proceed to talk about what he does and why, how he only just returned from a month’s training that included concealment training in the mountains. She seems interested enough in his choice of career, which he tries to make sound as striking as possible, far more intriguing than it actually is. He tries to appear a little too glorious in her eyes, fearing he won’t live up to the reputation and fantasy she has built inside her pretty little head.

What if she wanted him to be a doctor instead of a moronic soldier? Maybe she fantasized about a lawyer or a historian with whom she could have fascinating conversations… And he’s just babbling nonsense about weather meters and ghillie suits.

But her eyes are still smiling, always at him when he looks away and starts to talk with his hands. When they arrive at the little wicket gate leading up to her house, he notices she lives only about a kilometre away from his childhood home. 

She was always here, and he never knew anything about it… His secret admirer, his passionate seducer, turns out to be a harmless, lovely angel who lives right in the neighbourhood.

She takes her little cotton bag and turns to open the gate, and his hands twitch and flex. Say something clever, his mind yells, ask her out for fuck’s sake… But he needn’t worry, for his precious girl next door immediately turns back and shields her eyes from the sun while looking up at him.

“I’m sorry… I froze a little at the store. I just… This wasn’t how we were supposed to meet...”

“No? What did you have in mind for us then?”

She drops her hand back down and gives him a little halfway shrug, embarrassed.

“I don’t know. I just… I don’t even have any make-up on...”

He risks to bring a hand to her face, his thumb on her cheekbone, sweeps a little arc there to let her know she’s fucking beautiful.

“You’re very pretty,” he says, and she raises her eyes back to his, this time looking like she’s being blinded by the sun even if he’s shielding her from it.

“I really liked the picture you sent me,” he says boldly, and for the second time this afternoon, hopes the earth could swallow him right then and there. 

A pretty girl sends him one nice picture of her tits, and he has to be an asshole about it… She looks super uncomfortable, so flustered that she nearly guides her face away from his palm. 

Fuck that he’s stupid… Must he always be such an idiot and fuck everything up?

“I’m sorry... I meant to say that–”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she rises on her toes and plants a quick, flustered peck on his cheek, then turns to the gate as quickly as a whirlwind. Opens it, and returns solely to give him a bashful, naughty little smile. 

“I liked your picture too,” she says so softly he can barely hear it. 

“...Oh,” he squeaks, cheek still burning from her kiss.

“Do you want to come and see me tonight...? Mom usually drops before ten...”

“I… I… Sure.”

…

It’s a catastrophe.

His old jeans barely fit him anymore, they’ve become way too tight around the thighs. He’s put on some weight during the past few years and made sure to go to the gym every slack hour he has at his disposal, which means he’s packed a bit of muscle here and there. That, along with the many outdoor trainings, have ensured his appetite remains even bigger than usual so it’s no wonder none of his old pants fit. The only ones that don’t look utterly suggestive and wrong are his grey sweatpants, which he wore to the store today. He can’t very well wear those on a date, no matter what all those thirsty TikTok memes say...

He sighs, and grabs the black military pants he had on when he came here, pairing them with a simple black T-shirt. That’s all he has in his drawers: black, black, black, a few white ones that have some food and coffee stains on them, stains that never leave no matter how hard his mom tries to wash them for him.

The house is silent as he slips the keys into his pocket and hollers that he’s leaving. Like some lovesick, unneutered dog about to slink into the night…

“Mom? I’m going out. I… I have a date.”

“At this hour...?”

“Yeah… We’re… Going out to look at the moon,” he makes up off the top of his head.

His mom would scold him for harassing some poor girl when it’s almost midnight, even if it was her who invited him to her house. And if he’s lucky, there’s going to be a lot more action than just staring at the moon together… Not that that’s all he wants; it’s just that he’s been lonely as fuck and could really use a hug. 

Is it a crime, with the past that he has, to want some human contact? Some skin on skin memories that don’t include punching?

“My little boy,” his mom strolls into the room, looking at him with soft, worried eyes. “You look like you’re about to invade some poor, innocent country…”

“Eh… I know. All the other pants were too small.’

She smiles at him: seeing a grown man sweat like a pig before a date must be a silly sight, even more compelling when that man is your own boy. The clock ticks on the wall as she looks at him like he’s about to march off to war, his only shoes a pair of standard leather boots he’s used for two years now. He showed them some grease and a brush, managed to make them look a little less worn and torn – if he had known some cute girl back home had a crush on him, he would’ve visited a clothing store before he came here…

His mom raises a shaky hand and draws him down to kiss him on the cheek, her eyes glossy and hazed from the gathering tears. 

“I’m glad you’re finally eating enough,” she whispers with a voice that barely holds intact, and they both know why it’s shaking, why everything’s trembling; her hands, her voice and her tears.

His bottom lip is twitching too from witnessing his mom being so happy for his sake. But he doesn’t want to cry. He must stay oblivious and strong and pretend that things are finally how they should’ve been: normal and easy and wholesome and good. For her, he will never show that he’s shaking… Too many things in her life have done that when she needed them to stay stable and safe.

“Wish me luck,” he gives her a nervous smile, laughing the tears away.

“I always do…”

He leaves before his tower crumbles, slips out into the sweet, scented night.

There’s roses somewhere, roses that smell heavenly, some early jasmine too that wishes to intoxicate his mind. He realizes he has nothing with him to take as a gift for her, and cusses again. This is a fucking date, and he’s not even dressed properly; he doesn’t even have flowers to bring with him… She’s going to think he’s a nobody, some penniless freak who dresses like a crazy person when he’s supposed to dazzle her and make her swoon.

On his way to her place, he stops to cut a small branch from a flowering rowan tree and shelters it from the gusts of wind that blow from the river. The tiny flowers are delicate and fragrant, not exactly what he would’ve taken to her had he been clever enough to visit a florist before they all closed. But it’s cute enough, to him at least, especially when it’s cut from the tree that was his safe haven as a boy.

The curtains at her window shift when he arrives at the gate, and he knows she’s been expecting him, waiting for the clock to strike ten as eagerly as he.

The front door opens, and there she is: dressed far more accordingly than he; his lady has slipped into a sweet summer dress like the angel that she is. It’s bright and yellow, far from the darkness he always wears, and his heart is slowly squeezing to bits inside his chest.

“Hey,” she gives him a wide, knee-buckling smile.

“Hey,” he smiles back, marching to her door like a horny, ugly wolf. “You want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful ni–”

The moment he arrives at her feet, the moment she sees that he’s carrying a tiny branch from the rowan tree for her, she snatches the front of his shirt and pulls him inside with a surprising amount of strength.

His forehead hits the doorframe with a thick thud before he manages to bow, and there’s a bit of a commotion after that. He huffs something akin to Oof and laughs, making the angel flit around him in a wild, flustered shame, apologizing to him at least ten times.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

“Heh. It’s okay,” he smiles while rubbing the achy spot on his head. He’s forced to sit into an old wicker chair, wide enough to accommodate his back but far too low to hold his stature. He sinks inside it like a veritable giant while she continues to fuss around him, inspecting his “wound” and taking the offering from him with a helpless, embarrassed stare.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says before leaving him in his chair, the flower he brought softly placed on the bed. 

He’s afraid the furniture will break if he moves, so he stays as still as possible while taking in his surroundings, the soft girl adobe he has somehow managed to sneak his sorry rotten arse into. 

She has a large TV in front of her bed, a gaming console and a lot of books, candles everywhere he steals a look. The beige bedding looks freshly changed and incredibly soft, and there’s an old bunny toy on her bedstand along with another book, both loved to bits. Some houseplants on the floor appear to be doing extremely well, a small leather bag and some makeup left scattered on her desk. Rocks and twigs and dried flowers rest on her window sill, treasures she’s gathered from her trails. It makes his heart grow soft because he knows she will probably put his little offering there too. A bouquet of expensive, luxurious flowers wouldn’t have hit their target at all.

She returns with a small pack of ice and rushes to him in her flowy, blooming summer dress. Descends on her knees and brings a small towel to his forehead before pressing the ice over it, ensuring that it’s not too cold to make him uncomfortable. 

As if he could ever feel uncomfortable, seated in a wicker chair with an angel between his legs, treating his supposed wound with ice and the softest touch…

“Remember all those postcards you sent me?” he asks while she continues to look like the worst person who ever lived, simply because she was too eager to pull him inside her room.

“Sadly, yes.”

“Remember what you wrote to me?”

“Not really,” she says, dabbing the ice pack all over the rising bump on his head. “Something stupid, I suppose…”

“You told me that you love me.”

Her eyes dart to his for a while, hope and shame battling in her fae stare.

“...Oh God.”

“Many times. And then you told me that I’m cute…”

She sighs and brings the ice and the cloth somewhere in her lap. The breasts inside their soft little cell look astoundingly delicious when viewed from up here: he’s slouching in a chair and still, is able to take a rude little peek inside her dress. He slaps himself mentally for being such a goddamn pervert, but then she sighs again, the cute little peaches swelling inside her dress once more.

“That’s it?” 

“That’s mostly it, yes…”

He’s getting hard here, which is a problem. A big, big problem…

His shy admirer never notices anything, not even when he softly gestures for her to give the ice to him. He continues to press it on his forehead, trying to concentrate on the cold sensation rather than the swelling dick in his pants. 

How is he supposed to not grow hard when he knows this adorable little creature has been infatuated with him for so long? When he knows she’s flustered now, just from hearing him tease her about those silly, harmless cards?

“I kept every single one,” he tells her, only to watch how the shy girl grows even shyer.

“You didn’t…”

“I did.”

He tells her about the bullies and how they made it look like they had sent the cards, telling him no girl could ever want to be with him. It’s a sad attempt to fish for her affection and pity, words of contempt and judgement to hammer it home that he did receive those cards from this girl, he did, in fact, deserve to be loved and adored.

And then she starts to talk about how she watched him... How she went to a different school than him, but that she sometimes strolled behind him when he walked home. They shared the journey to and from school, and he was always completely unaware that he was being followed.

“You stared at this rowan tree for what seemed like hours,” she recalls with a sad smile. “Then, if a bee caught your eye, or a bird or some flower, you stopped to ogle at those instead…”

He laughs, but there’s a bittersweet stone in his chest. If he remembers correctly, these were the only times of the day he could drop his eternal guard: in school, he was being tormented by cruel kids and at home there lived a tyrant with his sad little subjects. Trees and bees and birds were a welcome distraction.

She smiles a little, but it’s not a happy smile, even if it is affectionate.

“My mom always told me to come straight back home,” she says. “But you were never in a hurry...”

He looks at her, and she looks back, some pity in her eyes. There arrives a sweet and sour pain in his heart, a feeling that comes from knowing there was someone who witnessed a glimpse of the hope and pain he lived in. That there was someone there all along… 

“You even stopped to look at dog poo…”

“Heh... Was that the moment you fell for me?”

Her lip twitches, the pity in her stare breaks. She rises a little to lean forward, and he catches her with ease as she falls there into his arms, snug into his lap. His lips find hers without effort, and sensation bleeds: his hands are sweaty and shaking as he runs them down along her dress, cups her ass so that she gives a little gasp straight into his mouth. 

That’s the thing he was pining for: for her to open that pretty little mouth so that he could pry it further open with his own. Plunge an exploring tongue inside, not too quick and not too greedy, just a little poke to see if she wants to be claimed.

The angel melts in his lap, like pure white snow, until he braces his core and rises to his feet. It’s now or never, and he’s not going to let this moment slip past his fingers. Somehow, they end up on the bed, the smell of fresh linens and her dainty perfume catching his nose before she presses a pair of weak hands on his chest.

“The flower...”

The flower... Of course. 

The flower from the rowan tree.

He huffs a laugh on her face, a relieved smile as he understands she’s only worried about trampling his gift.

It’s set aside on the table, but right after that, he attacks her again, begins the ascension to heaven. His lips won’t get enough of her, not even as he drinks her like honeydew and ambrosia: the dress he used to associate with seraphs and summer now seems like a huge obstacle between his tongue and her skin, the need to taste more of her urgent in his hips.

“Can I take this off?” He roughs a hand down the fabric that shields her breasts, relishing the tiny moan that follows when he does that. “I want to kiss you everywhere…”

Her throat makes a wet, charming sound as she swallows, her eyes now pools of dark, drunken love. 

“On one condition,” she tells him, out of breath. “If I can kiss you everywhere too?”

It’s a deal, his mind exclaims immediately, but his devilish grin is how he tells her he’s more than eager to accept these terms. His clothes find their way on the floor along with hers, black on black on yellow, but he won’t let her shiver in the cold for long. Like a man possessed, his body finds hers, her soft, naked skin colliding with his like heaven after all those lonely nights of slick, urgent fapping. 

He’s not sure who’s worshipping who here, but he vows to never again let this angel fly under his radar, no matter how perfect of a guardian she has been. A guardian angel, following him with her blessed stare, sending him heavenly messages that were real and true all along. 

She should be rewarded for her abundant gifts, and so his lips find her shoulders and her neck; they graze her nipples and claim her breasts in devouring that leaves her back arching on the bed.

“You don’t have a girl? Waiting for you back there...?” she asks shyly, even when half her tit is being sucked by his mouth.

“The only thing waiting for me back there is my hand,” he rasps while diving down, down, down, all the way past her navel and the mound she still tries to protect from plunder.

“...I can be your girl,” she whispers somewhere high above, her hands holding his head like that of an untamed dog. “If you want…?”

He breathes on the apex between her thighs, presses a furious kiss there without care. 

“F-fuck…” she sighs those thighs open, and from that point on, nothing is enough.

It’s horrible that it must be so: that he finally gets to drink his fill, and it’s still not enough. Her sighs are not enough, her trembling body is not enough. Her attempts to muffle her moans with the back of her hand are not nearly enough.

He wants more, so much more: he wants to try all there is to this with her, forever and ever until the day he dies. He wants to hear her soil her tongue with more curses as he ruins her, bit by bit, just a little bit…

“Say it,” he pants into her glistening lips, “Say that you’re my girl…”

When she does nothing but whimpers in return, he attacks her with both teeth and tongue. Bruises the thigh beside her treasure before plunging straight towards the main prize with reckless want. That’s what finally forces the words out of her mouth: his tongue inside her cunt, delving so deep he has to breathe through his nose to keep from fainting.

“I’m your girl,” she moans on the bed, a bit louder now. “I’m yours, I promise… I always… Always…”

I always was….

She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t need to. 

He grants her mercy after that, replacing the tongue with a finger or two. Slow wide circles over her clit accompanied by quick little pumps in her hole make her cum in no time, and he’s glad he listened to the dirty mess talk of his filthy comrades. Patience is not his virtue, but for her, he makes all the effort.... He for sure leaves a little memory on her thigh. It’s not very nice of him, and he fears those teeth marks might stay with her longer than just a few weeks. 

Maybe she’ll forgive him if he fucks her after this, rocks her slowly and softly, fucks her like angels ought to be fucked. But no, fucking is not the right word... He wants to make love to her. Drink her moans right from her lips while he does it.

After the climax, he’s still hard and she’s still panting.

He wonders if he’ll get slapped or kissed if he asks for permission to put it inside now... His dick is throbbing while they stare at the ceiling together, but as always, his angel is two steps ahead.

“My turn,” she says with newfound vigour, and he gets more than he bargained for: everything and more as she gives his body the same attention he just gave her. Bites his nipples a little too hard, the little minx, licks his ribs as if it’s some kind of a contest to try and make him tickle. Laughs angel trails across his skin, draws a finger down his nether hair until she meets his jutting dick.

She gives him a tame little lick at first, then slowly, expeditiously, kisses his cock from root to tip. Before due time, his thighs start to tremble, and that’s when she takes it in her mouth: sucks and licks him deep until his abs and balls pull tight. The sheet in his fist threatens to get torn to shreds when he cums, and for a moment, he forgets everything, even his name, until he notices that the poor little thing can’t swallow all his load. She almost chokes on the first spurt, withdraws to cough with her mouth closed while he hisses fat curses past clenched teeth. 

When he arrives back to Earth, there’s cum everywhere: on her face, on the sheets, all over his abdomen and his thighs, an eruption that spilled everywhere because his angel got a little appalled.

“I’m sorry,” she peeps with her mouth still full of it.

The poor girl swallows it bravely, and his heart is about to explode: his angel swallows his filthy load like a champ and looks so incredibly valiant while doing it.

“Hey,” he raises a shaking hand towards her, too weak to rise from the bed to comfort her. “It’s okay… You didn’t need to do that…”

“But I wanted to,” she complains while the thick, sticky cum drips down her cheek and onto her breasts.

“Shit… Come here,” he coaxes, and she crawls forward to nestle in the nook of his arm. 

He uses the sheet to dry the rest of it off her face. She looks up at him with that trademark seraph stare, so helpless and in love—if this is what having a girlfriend is like, then he doesn’t feel bad at all that he had to wait a little longer than most men. It was worth all the trouble and toil that he has her here now, in his arms, batting her lashes sweetly. 

“You’re still incredibly cute, you know...?” she whispers, and a mountain inside him moves. 

It’s not sorrow, nor is it yearning; it’s just sweet, simple love. The room smells of salt and sin, but there’s nothing sinful about her when she cups his chin. He knows it’s not elegant to tell someone you love them on the day you've met them, but if the one you love happens to be an angel, then isn't it a sin not to confess?

[xhoneygirlxx]

Love To See Me From Your POV

rockstar! Eddie Munson x wife! reader

summary: Seeing Eddie on the road for the first time should be an exciting moment but when your insecurities rise, you wonder if this is the life you were cut out for.

warnings: angst. reader is insecure: mentions of self hatred and low self-esteem. Eddie and Reader are both in their twenties! Rockstar Eddie. Eddie does call groupies gross. mentions of rough marriage. Eddie and reader fight! slight cheating accusations. fluff. Eddie is the sweetest husband, reader and Eddie being in love and cute. Smut 18+ Only, Minors DNI!! : mentions of sex with groupies, p in v (unprotected), cream pie, slight breeding kink, slight dom/sub, body worship/praise, oral receiving (reader), fingering, squirting. shit writing and bad grammar. Not proofread!!!!

If I missed any please let me know! *

a/n: Hello my loves, I got a request from @kellyxo1 for this little thingy right here! I hope this is okay and I hope you enjoy! Thank you all again for being so wonderful and lovely to me :) And remember if you ever want to request something, you're more than welcome!

There isn't a booklet on what to do and what not to do when you get married, and there's definitely not a booklet on how to be a rockstar's wife. Married life in itself is a difficult task, but learning the ropes of being married while also dealing with the life of fame was something you or Eddie was prepared for.

Getting married right after Eddie's third senior year was always the plan, two young and dumb freshmen solidifying it with hooked pinkies. Obviously you loved one another more than life itself, but going through the motions of being married at the ripe age of 20 is harder than any fairytale make it out to seem.

It was hard that first year, constantly worried about bills, overtired from working long shifts to pay said bills, and just learning how to live with one another. But in between all the hardships, there were small moments where both of you remembered what it was all about. Eating thirty cent noodles, decorating for holidays, the quiet Sunday mornings where you'd get tangled under bed sheets. The love that both of you hold for one another drowning out every other shitty thing around you.

The second and third year, your whole world flipped upside down. After getting lucky and getting picked up by a big record label, Corroded Coffin was now the hottest new band on the market. You remember the day the boys got signed, how most of them shed a tear of happiness, and how happy your husband looked. A moment in time that was now frozen in a picture that hung on your fridge.

You were so proud of the boys, watching them go from a crowd of seven drunks to recording their own album. There was something so special about being there with your husband for every step, cheering him on from the sidelines every time. When the album finally dropped and the number of sales went up, Eddie surprised you with the keys to the little house on Deer Run Road, the same one that the two of you always fantasied about owning.

Although he worked mostly in LA, he told you he planned on staying in Hawkins where he could still get privacy while being close to the people he loved. You also loved it because you wouldn't have to leave your job at the daycare and your husband would always come home to you.

Now on year four, you were the loneliest you've ever been. Between touring, recording, and everything that comes with being in a band, Eddie has barely home. You can't be mad at him though, he's following his dream all while providing a wonderful life for you. Of course there are nights you'd rather have him in bed with you, reading that old torn copy of Lord of The Rings rather than a phone call, but you're just glad he even has the time and energy to do so.

It was hard for the both of you, many times the two of you cried together, confessing the horrible ache that nestled itself in your hearts. You felt terrible, never being able to visit him because your schedule didn't line up with his. That's when you decided you were going to take a week off, fly to whatever city he was in, and surprise him.

With the help of Steve, who pretty much taught you the in's and out's of flying, and the band's personal assistant, you were able to buy a ticket to New York where CC would be performing their final show. That night when Eddie called you, you were buzzing with excitement and it killed you not being able to tell him.

On the way to Eddie's hotel was nerve racking. What would he think of you? Will he like how you changed your hair? Will he be shocked with how much I changed? You wondered how different he looked since the last time he saw you, the only way you got to see him was through your tv or on a cover of a magazine, and you never know how accurate those things can be.

__

Standing in front of his hotel room was daunting, blood rushing to your ears as your anxiety reached a whole new level. It felt like you never met him before, like he hasn't seen every single part of you or known you since he was a young man. The shakiness of your hands were only getting worse the longer you sat there, you decide it was now or never.

Raising one hand to the peephole, blocking it with your finger so he wouldn't be able to see, you use the other hand to knock on the heavy door.

"Housekeeping!" You disguise your voice the best way you can, making it high pitched and nasally.

Knocking once more, you cringe when you do it harder than before, remembering that he's probably tired from all the travel he's been through.

"Housekeeping!!" Still using the fake voice, trying to soften the blow of your heavy hand you sing the last little bit of the word.

From behind the door you can hear shuffling, yet there was no footsteps heard.

Raising your fist once more, you knock again and this time you can hear him shout something back.

"GO AWAY!" It comes muffled through the door that separates the two of you.

"Good morning, it's housekeeping!!" you cover your mouth with you hand trying to stifle the giggle that fall from your lips, knowing your husband is probably cursing to himself in anger.

Eddie's heavy footsteps and huffing are the only things coming from the room, then the door is being swung open causing the land that was leaning on it to fall dramatically.

In front of you is the man you married, hair messy from sleep, plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips, and bare chest on display. He looked so pretty, rubbing his closed eyes with the palm of his hands, pink lips jutting out in a pout, and puffy cheeks.

"I already told you to go the f-" Cracking one of his eyes open to adjust to the harsh light of the hallway, he finally sees you.

"Baby?" His raspy voice in a whisper, like he's questioning if you're real or not. Tired eyes that were once too heavy to open are now bulging out of his head, cartoonish and wild.

"Hi, Teddy." You whisper back, a saccharine smile breaking out on your face.

The air that once lived in your lungs are quickly punched out the moment he lunges towards you, gripping you up and twirling you around. In the middle of a swanky New York hotel, the two of you hold on each other, squeezing tightly to make sure that neither of you will float away in the clouds of a realistic dream.

"My baby, my beautiful girl," You hear it before you see it, the thickness of his sleepy voice does nothing to hide the shakiness. The tears of mourning you, fall from his eyes hitting the exposed part of your neck where he finds solace.

"I'm here, Teddy. I'm here." The dam you've built to hold back your own tears, has finally busted open. The tears of long nights and a cold bed fall onto his warm skin, the one thing you wished to feel once more.

Moving apart slightly, big brown eyes finally meet your own, taking in the imagine of the people they love the most. Teary eyes and stuffy noses, wobbling lips and heavy breathing, two souls reuniting after too much time away from each other.

Planting his forehead to yours, you bask in the feeling of being close. Eddie's warm lips touch yours, a sweet and tear soaked kiss makes you melt.

"I missed you so much, angel." He confesses, the warmth of his breath mixing with your own.

"I know the feeling." You joke and the both of your share a laugh.

"You know," he whispers, forehead still touching your own, "I want to be mad that I'm up at the ass crack of dawn, but you're such a beautiful sight to be woken up to." A gooey smile spreads on his lips and like a yawn, you mimic his actions.

"So you're not interested in housecleaning services this early in the morning?" You question and he snorts at your bad attempt of a joke.

"Angel, you know me better than that." He says and you roll your eyes.

"Now," Eddie lets you down gently, your feet returning to the carpeted floor. "If you don't mind, I would love nothing more than to fall asleep with the sexiest woman in the world."

Leading you into his room, he proves his point by slapping your ass hard. When you turn around to chastise him, you're met with him biting his bottom lip and his gaze still on your ass.

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna have so much fun with you." The morning rasp in his voice is replaced with a husky, lust soaked hunger.

Tossing you, lovingly, on the bed, Eddie pounces on you like a tiger. Attacking you with kisses, you try to push him off as best as you can, weak from all your laughter.

"Teddy, I still have to shower!" You shout causing him to pause over you. Catching your breath, you run your hand up and down his arm softly. "I still have yucky airport on me."

Eddie leans down and licks your cheek and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. "Oh yeah, that's my favorite flavor."

"You're such a dork." You tell him and he only smiles bigger down at you.

"Yeah but I'm your dork, Mrs. Munson."

__

The morning was spent with discovering each other again, not just physically but emotionally. You update him on the kids at your daycare and new Hawkins drama, while he tells you about the antics the boys have gotten into and all the cool stories from this tour.

You missed it, the simplicity of marriage. Even through all the time spent apart is torture, you still find the beauty in the small moments. Like the thirty cent noodles, you enjoy the peace and comfort of whispers passed back and forth a room that isn't your own.

All the bliss you felt from this morning has now been flushed out, now replaced with the roaring waters of doubt. You watch your husband on stage, singing songs he wrote, like you did way back when. This time the crowd isn't just drunk bar patrons, it's beautiful woman screaming his name.

They're all perfect, tiny bodies and big breasts, full hair and flawless makeup. They're everything you're not, everything you never will be. This was the one part of the job you never read about in your how to guide. This was the one thing you forgot to teach yourself about, how to handle millions of woman fawning over your man.

You weren't naïve of course, you knew that the guys had groupies, but you liked to push that into the back of your mind. You trusted Eddie more than anything, you knew he would never do anything to ruin your marriage, but that wasn't the part that had you so upset.

It was the idea of not being good enough that was eating away at you. Like everyone else in the world, you had insecurities. You went through stages with your self consciousness, earning a few battle wounds to your confidence along the way, but over time you became comfortable in your own skin.

This wasn't Hawkins though, this was the big city, and your "small town pretty" is no good here. All of the woman here could chew you up and spit you out, beating you out by miles in a beauty contest.

Your self hatred starts to write over the happy memory of watching Eddie on the biggest stage you've ever seen. Embarrassment fills your body, numbing you from head to toe. You feel so stupid, the clothes you wear are nothing compared to what they wear, you probably look like a clown in the makeup on your face, and your hair is probably flat and dull now.

This wasn't what you signed up for, this isn't in the job description when you sign on to be a rockstar’s wife. You already have to worry about the safety of not only your husband but the rest of the boys too. You worry about Eddie and if he's eating enough, if he's getting enough sleep, and if he's taking care of himself. There is already so much on your plate and you don't think you can handle worrying about the fact that you're not good enough.

The wave of guilt hits you when you look back over to your husband. His beauty is powerful, sometimes it makes you want to cry how pretty he is, and you know deep down he deserves better. Rockstar Eddie Munson deserves a girl that looks like one of them, not someone like you. It makes bile rise in your throat when you think about how he has to watch his friends pick up women from different cities and he has to sit by himself because his old ball and chain is all the way back in nowhereville.

Having a front row seat of your own demise is too much, deciding it would be better to watch on the monitor in the green room. When you're finally alone, it doesn't get any better. The large mirror that hangs on the wall captures your attention, calling to you like a siren to a fisherman.

Taking a seat, you begin to pick apart every single detail of your face. You criticize the shape of your eyes and where they sit, the length of your nose and how the shape sits weird, and how the pores that sit on your skin are way bigger than you remember.

The loud voice in your head pleads with you, begging you to stop before it's too late. "DON'T RUIN THIS" it screams and the demons that have overtaken your mind push it away, not wanting reason to ruin their demolishing.

When the guys enter the room, you realize you've been staring in the mirror for longer than you intended, almost like you were hypnotized.

"What a great fucking show!" Gareth announces as he grabs a beer from the mini fridge in the corner of the room.

"I agree." Grant says as he plops down on one of the leather sofas, exhaling loudly as the adrenaline crashes through him.

"This crowd was definitely the loudest one we've had." Jeff's voice is louder than he thinks. Clapping his hands together, he signals at Gareth to throw him a beer.

"So, what do you two lovebirds plan on doing now that touring is over?" Grant asks, leaning up from his slumped position to look over at you.

Eddie wipes his neck and face off with a towel, stalking over to you with a blissed out look on his face. Leaning down to you, he places a sloppy kiss on your forehead, removing with a loud 'mwah' sound when he does.

"I planned on taking my girl around the city before we head back home." Eddie is still looking down at you, almost like he's questioning you if it's fine with you.

Returning a fake smile, hoping he doesn't notice it doesn't reach your eyes, you nod your head to let him know you approve. A guttural moan pulls your attention to the brown haired boy over who's now sitting on the opposite couch of Grant and Jeff.

"You two are grossly in love, it actually makes me sick." Gareth rolls his eyes and the roar of chuckles ring out in the room.

"You act like we don't have a line of hot ass babes waiting for us." Jeff laughs and Gareth hums as he swallows the sip of alcohol.

"Very true, Jeff. Very fucking true." The boy laughs in agreement.

You know that their comments hold no malice to you but it stings all the same. All you heard was, "Too bad for Eddie, we get to fuck hot girls while he's left with that." It loops through your head, digging a deeper hole, bringing up every bad thought you've ever thought about yourself in the twenty something years you've been alive.

Everyone continues to talk, laughing and joking like they always do and the only thing you can do is get lost inside the storm that tears through your body. The feeling of Eddie's fingers dragging along the skin on the back of your neck has long been forgotten. The voices have all gone muffled, your own demons speaking loudly over them to even try to understand what they're talking about.

"Angel?" Eddie calls and it brings you out of the darkness of your brain.

You hum, craning your neck up to look at him. He's breathtaking, you think, even in the horrible lighting of this dressing room he looks perfect and it crushes you even more.

"You 'kay? Haven't really said much." He says, only loud enough for you to hear, not wanting to bring unwanted attention.

"M'fine, just kind of tired." You shrug. Flashing those pretty teeth at you, he smiles and it makes you sick with love.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I know I didn't give you much time to recover from the flight... and other things." He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows, earning him a light shove from you.

Leaning down once more, he captures your lips in a loving kiss and a small portion of the tension in your body fades.

"See, I told you! Sickening!" Gareth shouts, his arm stretched out and hand face up, directing everyone's eyes to the two of you.

Bashfully, you shove your face into Eddie's stomach to hide. Draping his one arm on your back, he twists his body slightly to look at the others.

"Gareth, you're clearly jealous I get to kiss my smokin' hot wife." Eddie shouts, and a collection of groans fill the room.

If only you could believe the nice words your husband said.

__

That night in the hotel room, you tell Eddie you're simply too tired to partake in any sexual acts, which he doesn't protest. Laying in the comfort of his strong arms arms, the thoughts are too loud to melt away to sleep. You wonder what Eddie dreams of as you lay awake, if he ever regrets marrying you, and if he wishes he could partake in the same things as the guys. You cry softly, tears pooling on the fabric of your pillow, praying to whoever to is listening to make it better.

The next morning, Eddie is like the energizer bunny when he wakes you up from your four hour sleep. Going to the local diner down the street, Eddie talks about how fun the show was, moving his hands dramatically as he retells you every detail. You try to look interested, smiling and laughing when needed but truthfully you aren't paying attention, you don't even chastise him when he speaks with a mouth full of food.

Afterwards, he shows you around the city and all the sights it offers. It pains you that you can't even enjoy it, too focused on everyone else around you, comparing yourself to every woman that walks past.

Eddie notices, he's noticed since last night but he didn't say anything. At first he genuinely thought you were tired since you never really traveled before, but when you sat across from him at the diner and poked at the food on your plate, he knew. Despite what a lot of people thought, Eddie wasn't stupid. There are many things he had knowledge on and his best subject was you.

He didn't know what was particularly bothering you but he knew all too well. You were in your head about something, beating yourself up about something that wasn't worth the fight, but he knew you could make it out. You always did.

The problem was you didn't fight out of this one. You stayed locked away in the torture chamber that was your mind and let the problem eat you alive. Eddie did everything you always talked about doing, showing you the places you dreamed about and you still didn't crack.

When you returned back to the hotel room, it was oddly quiet. Even Eddie who never stopped talking, was scarily silent. Sitting down on the bed, you started to talk off your shoes, working at the laces slowly.

Eddie stands in the doorway, leaning his body weight on the wall for support. His gaze burns into you, uncomfortably so and you're terrified to even look back at him.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong?" His tone is serious and it terrifies you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you meet his gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest and his features are harsh, waiting for an answer.

"I told you, I'm tired." You lie right through your teeth and like a metal detector he catches it, scoffing loudly and shaking his head.

"I need you to cut the shit, Angel. What is wrong?" He questions again and it ignites a fire within you.

"I told you, I'm fucking tired Eddie. Sorry I'm not you, I don't travel the world for a living." You snap at him.

"Are you- What the fuck did I do?" He argues back and you sigh heavily. This isn't how you wanted it to go but all the emotion from the past four years are coming out in knife like jabs.

"What the fuck did I do," You mock him. "What did you do? I'll tell you what the fuck you did. You left me, you fucking left me. Don't worry Eds, I'm happy for you, trust me. I love knowing that I'm the old ball and chain back home that keeps you from fucking groupies. But it's fine if you look, just not touch, right?"

When you're done you feel worse than before. Eddie stares at you, frown pulling on his lips and big glossy eyes that stare back at you. God, you want to kick yourself for making him feel like shit. This all could've been prevented if you just talked to him, let him in on what was happening but no, the demons won and they shot Eddie down while doing it. The worst part is, you pulled the trigger.

"Is that what you think?" His voice is small, something you've never heard from him and it breaks your heart.

"Fuck- I didn't mean that. I just-" Closing your eyes, you try to compose yourself but it doesn't work. "I just miss you so fucking much. Last night I couldn't even enjoy the show because all the tits that were on display in the front row distracted me. All I could think was 'how could he want me when all of these beautiful woman are better than me?'"

"So instead of watching the end of the show, I sat in front of the mirror and made a list of every ugly thing about me. My body, my face, my voice, every fucking thing about me is horrendous. Then when the guys mentioned fucking groupies, I felt so guilty 'cause while they're out havin fun, you have to sit there all alone because I'm all the way in Hawkins."

It all comes out like word vomit, laying on the floor of the hotel room, filling the room with the stench. Your ugly truths are now out there, you're so fucking vulnerable and all you want to do is hide.

"Are you dumb?" Eddie's voice brings you out of your pity party. Staring at him in shock, you can see his own tears staining his face.

"Do you realize that it kills me not being with you? Every city we go to, all I can think about is you and how much I want to take you there. Those girls you're talking about, the ones the guys screw around with? Yeah, I've seen them and let me tell you, they're gross." Stalking the short distance, he takes a seat right next to you on the bed.

"Do I get jealous because they get to have sex? Absolutely. It's not 'cause of the girls they bring home, it's cause I wish it were you. So many nights I laid awake, jerking off to the thought of you and it was way better than any fucking groupie could do for me." You snort at his admission, rolling your eyes still not believing. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your attention up to him.

"I'm so fucking serious, Angel. I'm so in love with you, it's maddening. Sometimes when I call you, I can't help but blush like I'm back in the ninth grade again. It blows my mind every single day that I got to marry the gorgeous girl from Click's class." His words are like warm butter, melting over you and seeping into your skin.

"Do you really mean that?" It's meek and unsure, like you're scared of what the answer could be.

"Cross my heart." He simply says, marking an 'X' over his heart with the tip of his finger.

Sniffling loudly, you wipe away the tears that roll down your cheeks. "I'm sorry, Teddy." You say and he hums, resting his forehead on your just like he did twenty four hours before.

"It's okay, baby. Trust me, I feel the same way sometimes." Furrowing your eyebrows at him, he laughs at the scowl on your face.

"Not like that, baby. I just mean, I get scared one of those hot dads are gonna try to pull a move on you when they drop their kid off." Between the serious look on his face and the honesty in his voice, you can't help but cackle.

"Eddie, who exactly would pull a move? Mr. Gardner? He's like forty and wears a very bad toupee." Eddie tries to cover the snort that comes out with a fake a cough.

"Hey, maybe you're into that kind of thing." He simply shrugs and you roll your eyes.

Settling into a comfortable silence, Eddie kisses you lightly and you pout when he pulls away.

"Can I show you how much I love you?" Your eyes scan his face for a moment before nodding.

"Please." That's all he needs to hear before he's placing you on your back, your head being cradled by the soft cotton pillows.

Eddie starts by kissing you, sweet and slow, reminiscent to the time you and him lost your virginities. The only difference about this time is he knows what he’s doing, confident in the way he glides his tongue against yours.

Moving his attention along your jawline, he places small lingering pecks down your neck. His hand moves down the sides of your body, finding purchase on the bottom of your shirt where he tugs softly on the material. Getting the hint, you sit up and help him pull the garment over your head, your bra is quick to follow.

Laying you back down on the soft cotton of the pillows, he continues his journey down your body. Soft lips leaving prints of love along your collarbones and down your sternum, invisible prints of love collect on your skin where they burn bright and settle into your bones.

“My sweet girl.” He trails more kisses around the doughy flesh of your breast.

Finding the hardened nipple, he swirls his tongue around it before pulling it into his mouth, lightly sucking on it before pulling off with a pop.

“My beautiful girl.” Moving his attention to the other breast, he repeats the same motions from before.

Moving down your tummy, he continues to map out his journey, leaving lingering tattoos onto your skin. Finally making it to his destination, he toys with the waistband of your jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down.

Lifting your hips, you assist him in taking of the restrictive clothing. In one swift action, he rips off the jeans and panties that once covered you. Feeling exposed and shy, you whimper up at him to get his attention.

“What’s wrong, princess?” His tone is concerned and it makes you pout even more.

Wordlessly, you reach your hand down to grab the hem of his shirt where you yank gently. Catching your drift, Eddie pulls it over his head and let’s it fall to the ground where the rest of your close reside.

“You were feelin’ shy, huh?” You nod at his question and he leans up to press his lips to the tip of your nose. “Gotta make sure my girl is comfy.”

Shuffling himself onto his tummy, he places your legs over his shoulders so he can be face to face with your glistening sex.

Kissing the inside of both of your thighs, you squirm trying to move him to the one place you need him most. Tsking loudly, he looks up at you with a correcting gaze.

“Be patient,” he scolds and you listen, biting back your fussing and fidgeting.

A deft finger runs up your slit, moving your slick around as it does. “This pretty cunt is so miserable, huh? She’s sad without me there to make her feel better.”

Taking two of his fingers, Eddie spreads you open to exposing your core causing you to hiss when the cold air hits you.

A swift lick of his tongue hits you like a bullet train, all at once it’s too much but not enough. A sob leaves your throat when he stops, glassy eyes meeting the dark one of your husbands, pleading with him for more.

“You know,” While the pad of his thumb over your aching clit, he continues to keep eye contact with you, “I don’t like when you talk badly about my wife.”

“The strong, smart, loving, and breathtaking woman I married,” He continues his ministrations, not using his other hand to trace around your hole, “Doesn’t deserve to be talked badly about.”

He continues teasing you, not inserting his fingers into your clenching hole and not giving your bundle of nerves enough pressure. He’s making you sweat it out and you think you might die.

He coos sweetly at you, faux pity on his features as he does. “I know, honey. S’it hurt? Want me to make you feel better?”

“Please, Teddy. Please please please.” Your begging falls on deaf ears though, Eddie just continues his evil plan of torture.

“I’ll make it better,” Putting his mouth close to your cunt, you can feel his warm breath and you shy in relief. Moving away quickly, he looks back up at you and you fight the urge to yell at him. “But first, I want you to say you’re beautiful.”

“Wha- Eddie, no! Just fucking- God, just eat me out already!” You yell and he mocks you by laughing.

“Baby, I can leave you high and dry and be perfectly fine. So unless you want to get yourself off, I suggest you do what I say.” Although you know Eddie would never make you take care of yourself, his threat hits you like a lightning strike. His cool demeanor and stoic tone makes you believe every word he said.

“I’m beautiful.” It comes out in a whisper, so low he barely catches it.

“Nuh-uh, say it louder.” Eddie corrects you and the buzzing feeling over embarrassment burns your cheeks.

“I’m beautiful.” This time it’s louder but you don’t sound convincing.

“I want you to believe it. Want you to be nice to my wife.”

Something about the words being said to you makes your heart beam. All of Eddie’s statements to you have been chipping away at the guarded walls of your mind, casting light on the darkness that overshadows it. You start to believe him, you start to let the positive and loving words bring you out of the insecurities that plague your thoughts.

“I’m beautiful.”

You say it at the same volume but this time something in your eyes let’s Eddie know you believe the words you say. The glimmer of light that disappeared 24 hours ago, has finally returned to its rightful spot.

“There’s my girl.” Dimples flash at you before he dives right into you.

Eddie’s tongue replaces his thumb, adding more pressure to the pulsating spot. The finger that once teased you, is not fully seated in you, curled just right while it pumps in and out of you.

He’s not doing much, basically just warming you up for what’s to come, but something about it lights you on fire. The adoration Eddie has for you is being poured into your heart, lighting your body in a glow that he only manages to bring out of you.

Your moans grow louder when Eddie starts sucking on your clit, another finger shoved inside of you moving in and out in a faster speed than before.

You arch off of the bed like you’ve been possessed, whimpering and withering around making Eddie use his unoccupied hand to push you back down.

“Shit, you’re s’tight.” Eddie’s voice comes out slurred, drunk off of the taste of you.

“You gettin’ close? You gonna cum for me, Angel?” You don’t have the energy to answer, too lost in the feeling of your stomach tightening.

Slowing down the speed of his fingers, you huff in aggravation. Eddie’s voice pulls you back down to reality, your bliss slowly starting to fade away.

“I’ll let you cum if you say you’re perfect.” Lifting up on your elbows, you look down to see him already staring at you.

“Eddie I’m not-“ You’re immediately cut off by him, his tone more commanding than before.

“Say it, or you won’t cum at all. I just want to hear you say it.” He begs, his pace starting to quicken and his thumb now going in figure 8’s on your clit.

You’re quickly hurdled back to the euphoria you were just pulled out of. Eyes rolling around in your head, whining as the string in your stomach pulls tighter.

“I’m, shit- M’perfect. Your perfect wife.” You’re a blabbering mess, head thrashing back and forth in ecstasy.

“I’m gonna cum. Teddy, please!” You beg and he gives you exactly what you want.

“Go ‘head, Angel, let go f’me.” With one last stroke on that sweet spot, you’re catapulted into the paradise of your release.

It feels like you’re floating above the clouds, weightless and free. You don’t feel the gush that splashes your thighs or the sheets, and the voice of your husband is nothing but an angelic voice ringing out.

You return back down to the soft mattress, boneless and melting into the bed. When your breathing calms and you finally have the strength to open your eyes, you’re met with a Cheshire Cat like smile and the soaking face of your husband.

“You did such a good job for me baby,” Kissing you sweetly, you can taste yourself on his lips. Pulling away slowly, you bring your arm to his pants, rubbing your palm along the outline of his hard cock.

Shaking his head, he gently grabs your wrist and puts it above your head. “This is about you, Angel. Wanna make you feel good.”

A quiet okay leaves your lips and he continues to work himself out of his pants, letting his dick bounce out of its confides. Saliva pools in your mouth, the desire to taste him takes over and you whimper.

Chuckling at your pouty face, he moves back between your legs that you parted for him. When he runs the tip of his aching cock through your folds, you both hiss on contact.

Lining himself up, Eddie brings his hand to your hip where he rubs his thumb in soothing circles. Both of you moan in unison when he finally breaches your entrance, a feeling neither of you have gotten used to.

Pushing himself further into you, he takes his time to let you adjust to his size, something you still haven’t gotten used to. He stretches you out so nicely, filling you up like nothing else you’ve ever felt. Nothing can compare to him, every bump and ridge of his cock making it even better.

Lacing his fingers into yours, he hovers over you as he starts thrusting slowly into you. A choir of moans are made between the two of you, singing a song better than anything Eddie’s ever written.

With the way your legs are wrapped around his waist, you try to push him in deeper, wanting to stay this close with him forever. This isn’t just about fucking or getting off, this is about the man you fell in love with all those years ago and how he’s appreciating you. He’s trying to show you just how much his heart yearns for you.

“So good, so fuckin’ good for me.” Eddie pants heavily as he thrusts the tip of his cock ramming into your cervix just right.

“Always so good f’me, Angel. You take such good care of me, such a good wife for me.” He’s babbling at this point, reaching the tipping point faster than he thought.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, all you can think about is how much love you love each other, how good he’s making you feel, and how he was able to pull you out of the darkness of your horrible thought.

Removing his hand from yours, he snakes it down your body to find you abandoned clit. With the added pleasure, you clench harder around him and the air in your lungs seeps out in a high pitched gasp.

“I can’t wait to fuck my load into you, baby. Gonna get you nice n’ round, show everyone you’re mine. You want that? Want me to fuck a baby in you?” His voice echoes in your ears and travels down into the pit of your belly, getting you closer to the edge.

“I wan’ it, s-so bad, Teddy. Wanna feel it.” You’re babbling, toes curling at you tippy toe over the line of your orgasm.

“F-fuck you sound so pretty when you beg. Come on, Angel, cum for me.”

And just like that, both of you unravel together. Him painting your walls in his release, while you guys around him. Eddie works both of you through your highs, thrusting sloppy and lazily into you until he can’t anymore.

Eddie doesn’t pull out of you right away, not wanting to let go of the feeling so soon. He lays on your chest, trying to settle his breathing as best as he can. Bringing a hand to the top of his head, you rake your nails softly into his hair.

Humming in delight, Eddie kisses your chest as a thank you. A small blip of time in a long year, the kind that makes the bad days all worth it. The secrets whispered in hotels and lingering trail that still burns on your skin, invisible kiss marks left for reminders.

It’s worth it, all the hardships and long months, when you know he’ll always find his way back to you. The sweet boy from 9th grade that promised his heart to you, now sings his undying love to you for thousands of crowds to hear.

More tears leave your eyes, not in sadness but in pure happiness. You’re so fucking in love with him and sickeningly so, just like Gareth said.

Swiveling his head up to you, Eddie rests his chin lightly on your chest.

“Hi.” He says meekly.

Eddie doesn’t question your tears because he has tears of his own and he knows they’re for the same reason.

“Hi.” You parrot back to him, a wet smile adorning your lips.

“Do you believe me now?” Sweet brown eyes pulls you in, sucking you in as they stare at you.

“Yeah, I do.” You reassure and he smiles.

Using his free hand, Eddie takes his finger to trace shapes over your heart. You melt when you feel him draw a heart with your initials and his on the inside.

“I wanted to tell you,” He flits his eyes down to his finger where it doodles on your skin, “the guys and I have a break now that tours over. So I was thinking..”

A pregnant pause settles between his statement and he makes no moves to finish it. It reminds you of the first time he asked you on a date, nervous and fidgety.

“What is it, Teddy?” Lifting his chin with your fingers, you raise an eyebrow to coax him into answering.

“I was thinkin’ maybe we could try, ya know, for a family or somethin’. “ Eddie’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are coated in a pink blush.

Your heart picks up and you know that Eddie can feel it under his finger. Smiling with all your teeth, you cheeks ache from the stretch.

“You wanna have kids with me?” Your voice is only a whisper and he giggles at you.

“Well I don’t know if you noticed but, I just blew my whole load inside of you.” The bluntness of his statement makes your cheeks burn. Slapping your hands over your face, you cover yourself from the embarrassment

“Hey, don’t need to get all shy on me now,” Pulling your hands away from your face, he smiles smugly at you. “If I recall correctly you were the one all like “yes Teddy ugh please!!”.” Eddie mocks you and you roll your eyes.

“Bye the way, I’ve been counting every eye roll since you got here and I promise your in trouble when we get home.” He points and accusatory finger at you causing you to clench around him.

“I love you, Teddy. Thank you.” You place a kiss to his lips and he smiles brightly at you.

“Don’t need to thank me, baby. I’m glad I’m here to remind you.” Pecking your lips once more, he pulls a way with an even bigger smile.

“Also, I love you too, Mrs. Munson.”

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