#let's get married at the space station

[jupiterspacestation]

finally done ⭐️

[zoellumine]

"lets get married at the space station"

[littlestpetship]

oouuuu........ i wanna go to the moon with him (T_T )

[miniy00ng1]

Home

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1189

warnings: swearing, lila likes five (ew), lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiiii lovelies! it felt like i wrote more than i actually did, butttt whatever. please ignore any grammar errors and i hope everyone enjoys! thank you <3

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

He dreams of you every night. Thinks about you during his every waking moment. He longs to see your beautiful face again. To hold you tight in his arms and never let you go.

Your relationship with Five is one he could only dream of having. He met you during the apocalypse. You were severely injured and stuck under rubble but, you were alive when he stumbled across you.  

Five had nursed you back to health and in return you provided him company for what would have been 45 very lonely years. During that time, you and Five had fallen in love and had married.

Since arriving in the new timeline 6 years ago, you and Five had started to build a normal life together, just like Five had wished for. But now he’s found himself stuck in a neverending hellscape with the last person he’d ever want to be stuck with.

Six years had gone by since he last saw you and all of them were agony. Five tried to find a way back to you and vowed he wouldn’t stop trying until you were back in his arms. There were times where he wasn’t sure he would ever see you again and it broke his heart–he would never admit this to anyone.

“I cannot stand to eat another subway rat.” Lila says, scrunching her nose up in disgust. The pair were sat on the floor of the station cooking yet another rodent. “Maybe…we could rest up for a bit at the greenhouse we found the other day? The place wasn’t too bad.” Lila glances at Five with a hopeful look in her eyes. Five ponders the idea, he wouldn’t mind a soft bed to sleep in and definitely wouldn’t miss getting shot at. He nods at Lila, “Only for a couple of days.” 

A few days had turned into weeks which turned into months. And soon enough the pair had been there for three months. The greenhouse and surrounding area had provided a sufficient source of living and was considerably more comfortable than the subway station floor.

Five was watering the strawberries in the greenhouse when he felt something hit his back. He could hear Lila giggle and felt another thud, “Quit it Lila, you’re wasting produce. We’re not going to have enough for the winter if you keep throwing them at me.” Lila continued to toss strawberries as she approached Five, “Oh please, we’ll have plenty and we aren’t staying tha–”

Lila tripped over her feet causing Five to drop his watering can and catch her. The two were face to face, he could feel Lila’s breath and her eyes staring at his lips. He quickly pushed Lila to her feet and distanced himself from her. “Look Lila, I know we’ve been here a long time and you’re not happy with my brother but I love Y/N. And I just want to get back to her.” Five was never the kindest man but in that moment he had hoped he let her down gently.

Lila nodded quickly, tucking her lips as her eyes welled with tears, “No, yeah, I get it. I’m sorry. It’s just–what if we never get home?” Five shook his head, “That’s not happening. I’m never going to stop until I get us home.”

Five left the greenhouse to give Lila some space. In the meantime, he returned to the subway station and decided to take a ride to clear his head. As he sat on the grimey seat he tried to think about how you might try to decipher the station–you were always just as smart as he was, helping solve equations in the apocalypse. You had even told him his calculations were off but he would never listen, he smiled to himself thinking about you.

The train let out a ding signifying he had reached the next stop. As the doors opened he heard the sound of footsteps fading. What the hell? he thought to himself. He shot out of his chair with urgency, following the direction of the footsteps and calling out for the mystery person to stop. 

Five came to a halt, his eyes widening at the bright sign and the warm presence of a restaurant. If he wasn’t confused before, he sure as hell was now. Five neared the door with caution, but as he entered the deli he was awestruck. He was surrounded by himself, some workers and some patrons of the deli.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you! Come sit with me” A voice called out, his voice, but he wasn’t speaking. He glanced around to see who was calling for him when he saw himself in a booth waving him over. Five approached the table and slid into his seat.

“So you’ve made it.” Booth Five says enthusiastically. Five looks at himself quizzically, raising an eyebrow he asks, “And where exactly are we?” “It’s where we all come when we’ve given up.” “Given up?” Five questions. “I haven’t given up. I need to get home to Y/N.” Murmurs erupt at the sound of your name. Many surrounding Fives sigh or give a sad smile.

“We here don’t have our version of your Y/N anymore. We lost everyone, including her. As soon as we did, majority of us gave up trying to save the world.” Booth Five states, a sad gleam in his eyes. “I’ve saved the world three times already. I don’t plan on doing it again anytime soon. I just want to get home to her. So do me a favor and tell me how to get home.”

Booth Five gives a call out to Waiter Five. Waiter Five brings over a notebook and hands it to Five. As Five inspects the journal, his eyes widen. “Holy shit…it’s a cipher. This is how I get back.” Five immediately gets up. As he leaves Booth Five calls out,

“We’ll see you soon.”

Upon returning to the greenhouse Five starts to gather everything in preparation to make his return home. “Lila!” He calls out, “Lila! Where are you? Get ready to leave, we’re going home!” Lila bursts through the door looking disheveled.

“You–You’re not fucking with me are you? Because if you are, I will kill you.” Five shakes his head and Lila squeals running over to hug Five. “Let’s go home.”

The pair arrives at Diego and Lila’s house. Lila excitedly runs up to the door and throws it open. As she disappears into the house Five begins to approach. As he gets closer, he can hear you giggle as Lila envelops you in a bear hug. 

Lila eventually lets you go and that’s when you notice Five’s presence at the entryway. You make your way over to him with your beautiful smile. You throw your hands around his neck and pull him down slightly as he is a couple inches taller than you. Five snakes his hands around your waist, face in your hair as he breathes you in.

You go to pull away but Five’s grip tightens. You let out a laugh, “Someone must’ve missed me.” “You have no idea” He whispers.

[alchemistc]

Married In Vegas Interlude: The Patio

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

"I miss you," Evan says, strain in his voice, around his eyes. "I went out with a guy the other night and he said movies are for the weak-minded."

Evan always fell asleep halfway through movies. Not enough stimulation, so Tommy had started massaging his leg, tossing a nerf ball back and forth, asking Evan to paint his toenails. He's got a knitting for beginners kit sitting at the bottom of his mud room ottoman because that had been his next attempt to keep him entertained enough to make it through a single theater run-time Lord of the Rings.

"I hired a Taskrabbit to box up all your things because every time I saw them I wanted to call you," Tommy admits.

"Even the -?"

"That too," Tommy interrupts, and Evan scowls.

"You always do that."

"Anticipate what you're doing to say?"

"Never let me finish."

Tommy can't help himself: "I don't recall that ever being a problem." The first time Tommy had found his prostate he'd made noise like a dying cow and Tommy had been worried his neighbors would call the cops and a station they both knew would show up just in time for Tommy to drown in a puddle of Evan's cum.

Evan kicks at his leg. "We never talked about the things we did that irritated each other."

Tommy gets both calves wrapped around the offending ankle and holds them in place, hovering above the cheap and patchy artificial turf.

"Like you always pretending you couldn't overpower me if you tried?" he asks, and Evan bends his knees and hooks his toe and if Tommy didn't let the hold go they'd both end up in the ER tonight.

"Like turning the thermostat in the loft down every night when you snuck down for water after you thought I was passed out."

"You have fifty blankets within arms reach up there," Tommy argues, and something satisfied sparks behind Evan's eyes. Was he not supposed to cop to that?

"You flirt with my barista every time you wake up early to buy me coffee at the cafe downstairs," Evan says.

"Tawny is basically my barista at this point, she never saw you." It's been six months. Tawny is definitely not his barista, anymore

"Maybe I wanna be the one who wakes up early and treats you, every once in a while." Which makes Tommy snort, and tip his beer against his lips to drain the rest before he digs in the bucket for another.

"You're the biggest pillow princess I've ever met," he snaps, and then amends his statement. "That isn't one of the irritations," he says, softer. When he drops his free hand on the table, Evan snatches at it, fingers stretching over the back of it before twisting Tommy's wrist to reveal his palm. He does that thing that always made Tommy a little boneless: fingernails snagging on Tommy's calluses as he traces the patterns on his palm, up the lengths of his fingers. "I like taking care of people. You. I like taking care of you."

He curls his fingers in to catch his movements on a downward drag, slides them into the empty spaces between Evan's and presses their palms together. It's silent. Tommy feels heated, and he's not sure he can blame the three straight whiskeys he'd pounded back when he'd caught sight of the breadth of Evan's back, assumed it was a stranger, and thought to himself: I deserve to be haunted by this ghost.

"Can we please talk, Tommy? For real?"

Tommy pulls another beer from his bucket and passes it off to Evan. "I miss you too, Evan."

Evan drags his chair half an inch closer and beams.

[reidsbabyhoney]

night out | hozier

the one where he gets drunk and falls in love with you all over again.

pairing: hozier x wife!reader category: fluff cw: drinking, being at a bar wc: 1.7k a/n: I'm so so sorry this took so long to write, I just had midterms for all of my classes and had absolutely no free time, but I'm finally on break so Im hoping to get more stories out these next couple of weeks! this was a request, so i hope you love it. reader is a book store owner and that is very self indulgent of my dreams of one day maybe owing a book store if nothing else works out for me. (outfit described can be found here, but as always imagine it however you like

masterlist hozier masterlist

This was the first time in what felt like years that you and Andrew were finally taking up an offer to go out.

Since the tour began, the band had invited you both out multiple times, but neither of you accepted, claiming to be too tired after the shows.

Since this was the first time that you had been able to join Andrew on tour, you were taking up as much quality time as you could get from him when he wasn't busy running around during sound check and doing interviews.

That was another reason you both declined going out multiple times deciding to spend...quality time with each other behind the doors of hotel rooms.

But tonight, you both agreed to go out when Alex asked if you would be joining the rest of the band, saying they were going to a bar just down the street from the hotel you were staying at.

Walking down the sidewalk to the bar, you’re hand in hand with Andrew who’s softly humming to himself.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, taking in your outfit.

It was nothing extravagant, though you did want to look a bit nicer. Just a simple satin slip dress with some red boots for a pop of color and your usual purse.

“Mm thank you, you look handsome tonight too, I say we just go back to the hotel room,” you respond with a mischievous smile.

He’s simply wearing a jumper with a white t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans, but the way his sleeves are rolled up makes you want to drag him back to the hotel room and stay there for days.

At your remark, he playfully pinches your hip and shakes his head, “No, you minx. We’re going out because you wanted to, let’s keep that in mind.”

You let out a huff as he opens the door to the bar, which looks to be busy as you eye the tables are full of people.

Surveying the bar, you quickly spot Melissa and both make your way towards the table they’ve claimed.

After greeting them all, everyone goes their own way. Alex decides to drag Andrew to the corner of the bar where the pool tables are stationed.

Over hearing his plans on getting your husband absolutely hammered tonight, you simply shake your head with a small laugh and send him off with a kiss.

An hour passes and you've had a few drinks, deciding to stay near the table and observe everyone in the cramped space.

Realizing you haven't seen Andrew in a while, you get up from your spot at the table, asking Joy if she’d seen him anywhere.

“Oh yeah, last I saw he and Alex were by the bar, I think Melissa might be over there too,” she says, pointing to where Andrew’s tall body stood at the end of the bar.

“Thank you.”

You walk over to where the three of them are standing, deciding to talk to Melissa first since Alex seems to have your husband deep in thought.

“Please tell me he hasn’t had more than 4 drinks,” you say to Melissa as she just lets out a laugh.

“I’m afraid he might be well past that y/n/n.”

Turning towards Andrew you see him looking at you as if he was met with the most divine creature in the world.

“Go on, talk to the pretty girl Andy,” says Alex, trying his hardest to hold back a laugh.

Your eyebrows basically reach your hairline as he says that, no way he’s so hammered he’s forgotten you’re married.

“Hi, em, hi, m’names Andrew, or Andy’s fine too,” he says looking a bit shy.

You just look towards Alex instead of answering, "Alex, when you said you planned on getting him hammered, I didn't think you meant it was going to be this bad!"

All he does is laugh and shrug his shoulders, finding this situation amusing.

Sighing, you know there’s no way that he’ll believe you’re truly married if you try explaining it to him now, so you decide to play into it a bit.

Smiling you shake your head and respond “ I’m y/n, it’s great to meet you Andy.”

Both Melissa and Alex just laugh, deciding to leave you both in the empty corner of the bar.

“I hope I’m not being too forward y/n, but you’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You grow a bit shy at his words, your cheeks covered in a faint blush. The conversation is reminding you of when you first met years ago, his words almost the exact same.

“No baby, not too forward at all."

“I just, well not to sound creepy, but you caught my eye while you were sitting down over there and I'm afraid to admit I was nervous to go over and introduce myself first," he says looking down at his hands as if he's embarrassed by his confession.

Your smile brightens at his words. You're truly about to swoon over this man all over again.

"Well then, I'm glad I came over here first. How about we go sit down with our friends over there yeah?” you say, pointing to where the rest of the band is.

Andrew responds by quickly nodding his head and grabbing your hand to guide you through the still very packed bar.

“Here come the lovebirds.”

Of course it’s Alex that says this, still finding extreme delight in your husband's current state.

Looking at the rest of the table, it seems like he’s caught everyone up on what’s happened because they all look at you with small smiles on their faces.

Taking your seat at the booth, sitting between Joy and Andrew the conversation starts back up again.

Your husband turns towards you and begins asking you questions.

"So, y/n, where are y'from," he asks. He's looking at you as if trying to memorize your every feature.

You shy under his intense stare, and it takes you a second to respond.

"Well, I live in Ireland."

His eyes basically pop out of his skull at your answer, surprised as if there aren't millions of people living in the country.

"Seriously, me too," his eyes bright with excitement realizing that this could possibly go somewhere, little does he [currently] know, it already has.

"Yeah I live in County Wicklow with my husband."

His face brightens then immediately falls once you finish your sentence.

"Husband?"

"Baby, look at your left hand for me, yeah?"

Doing as you say, Andrew looks at his hand that's rested on the table, finally noticing the wedding ring on his finger.

"Now take it off and look inside," you say, taking off your ring to show him the matching engraving details on the inside of both your rings.

"Andrew & y/n. April 23, 2022," he says reading the date of your wedding.

It takes him a second to realize what it means, but once it clicks, he's looking up at you, wide eyed.

"We're married! Alex, why didn't you say I was married to her," he says turning to his friend, who seems all too pleased that this conversation is happening.

Alex simply takes a swig of his beer and chuckles, "Y'never asked."

Andrew then turns towards you with embarrassment washing over his features, "Gods, I'm mortified love, and you're never going to let me live this down are you?"

You just shake your head and laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Nope."

Laughing at his reaction, you decide that it may be time to leave, realizing it's nearing one in the morning.

"C'mon, let's go back to the hotel so you have enough rest to actually be embarrassed about this tomorrow."

With that, you get out of the booth and say your goodbyes to everyone.

Walking out of the bar, there's a slight chill in the air, causing Andrew to take off his sweater and hand it to you.

Taking it, you pull it over your dress and walk hand in hand back to the hotel.

Reaching your room, you pull out the key card to your shared room, opening the door wide enough for both of you to walk in.

"I can't believe I'm so far gone I didn't even remember we were married," Andrew says as he sits down on the bed to take off his shoes.

"I know, me either, I mean how could you forget you were married to me," you say jokingly, dragging your hands down your body to emphasize what he was forgetting.

Andrew just laughs and shakes his head.

He notices you going to the bathroom and turns towards you, "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"In a bit, I just need to take off my makeup," you reply.

Andrew patiently waits for you in the bed in his pajamas which consist of a pair of pajama pants that are far too old to still be worn, and a beat up shirt he'll eventually take off, claiming to be too hot. (Even though he'll later wrap his arms around you dragging you as close as he possibly could, and wake up in the morning complaining that you "radiate too much body heat", even if he's the one that starts the cuddling.)

Shortly after, you make your way out of the bathroom, fresh faced and in your own pajamas.

Getting under the covers you turn on the lamp on your nightstand and expectantly wait for Andrew to do the same.

When he doesn't, you look towards the end of the bed where he's sat.

"Andy, aren't you coming to bed?"

"I, I know we're married but, it feels odd sleeping with you, I feel like I should take you out to dinner first," he says sheepishly, finally turning to face you.

"Don't worry, you've wined and dined me many times, so I'm not worried about that, now let's go to sleep," you say.

Finally Andrew gets on his side of the bed, turning on his side so that he's facing you.

Letting out an exasperated sigh he just shakes his head and one final time asks, "I'm never forgetting about this am I?"

Letting out a fake snore, you pretend you're asleep instead of answering him though he already knows the answer.

Andrew just chuckles, knowing that whatever comes tomorrow would be worth it, cause he got to relive what it felt like to fall in love with you again.

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @man-i-love-folklore @the-song-of-flowers @songbirds-sweet @cowboycatreign @harnans @celery-grace @genevievetaylorsversion22 @alexis-34 @inejghafawifesblog @colddarkearth23 @hauntedworld @sleepy-time-dreamy @lemon9de @midsummervixen

[augustvandyne]

Hey! Could you do fluff John Nolan and wife reader where she visit the station and everyone just awed at her beauty? Maybe someone try to flirt with her. You decide how it end. Tag me later. Thanks!

first time writing for nolan 😜

lmk how i did!

nolan’s wife

You were way too beautiful to be John Nolan’s wife, is the first thing that comes to mind to all the officers when you introduce yourself.

Lucy and Jackson knew Nolan was with someone, because he always shot down anyone that came onto him everywhere they went. Whether it be the hospital, a call, the bar, anywhere.

But they didn’t know that that woman was his wife, nor that she was that gorgeous!

And I mean everyone, even Tim Bradford, was checking her out as she made her way towards the rookie.

“John,” You said in a silky voice, slightly fixing his tie.

“Y/n,” John smiles down at you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips.

That was the only downside of your husband—his height. He was so tall, and it wasn’t that you were short, it was just that he was so tall! Even in high heels you couldn’t match his height or anywhere near it.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy sped over to the two of you, her hair pulled back into a low bun. “You are gorgeous!”

“Thank you?” You pull back slightly from John, giving him some personal space.

“I have to say, you are beautiful,” Jackson says, his hands resting on his belt.

“Who’s this smoke show?” Smitty walks over, raising his brows and flashing a smile. “Wanna go out tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to pass,” You nod awkwardly, holding your hand out to let him see your ring. “I’m married.”

“To who? I could take him,” Smitty assures you.

“To me. She’s my wife,” John asserts dominance, which has Smitty backing up a few steps.

“Alright, slow down cowboy,” Smitty puts his hands up, walking back to his desk.

Lucy laughs, shaking her head.

“Hey, we were just about to head out for lunch, wanna join us?” Jackson asks nicely.

“Oo, yes!” Lucy jumps excitedly. “Please, please, please come!”

“I mean, if it’s okay with you,” You turn towards John, looking up at him sweetly.

“Of course, oh, I’d love for you to go,” John puts his large hands on the sides of your head, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

“So it’s a deal, let’s go,” Lucy puts her arm through yours. “Y/n gets shotgun.”

Lucy drives you to this food truck joint, that has several different types and trucks to try from, so you could basically get whatever you wanted.

You sit in front with Lucy, while John and Jackson take up the backseat.

You snap a photo of John in the back seat, and tell him that you think it’ll make the Christmas card this year, resulting in a laugh from him.

Once there, Lucy picks a table with four chairs, and you sit as John gets the two of you something to share. Because, yes, the two of you are adorable like that. But also because he wanted to surprise you since you’ve never eaten there before.

You watch him go around to several of the trucks, getting a bit of everything, and you love him for it because he knows you so well.

Lucy shares a few of her fries with you as you wait.

When he sits back down, you are relieved to be hit with the smell of food, but then are hit with the urge to vomit.

Which brings you back to the whole reason you came to see John at the station.

You cover your mouth, which has you receiving a concerned look from your husband.

“Everything okay?” His frown deepens as get up.

“Excuse me,” You all but sprint towards the nearest trash can and hurl into it, not even caring about how people around you are trying to eat.

“You okay?” John appears beside you, rubbing your back and giving you a napkin so you can wipe your mouth.

“I’m fine,” You swallow, trying to get the taste out of your mouth. “Did you get something to drink?”

“Yes, it’s right this way,” John still watches over you intently, his hand on the small of your back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” You laugh it off.

When you sit, you feel eyes on you, and you know who they belong to.

Your husband.

“John, we should talk,” You turn your head, dropping your fork.

“And that’s our cue,” Jackson nods to Lucy who stands with the man to leave to another table.

“What’s wrong? I thought everything was okay.”

“It is,” You grab his hand. “I took a test this morning.”

“A test? What— like, like a pregnancy test?” His eye brows shoot to his hairline. He was surprised, to say the least.

“Yeah,” You look down. “It was positive.”

“Really?” John lets out a breath.

“If you don’t want this, I understand,” You tilt your head. “You’re still just a rookie, and—“

“No,” John shakes his head with a big grin bloomed across his face. “I mean, I’ll admit, it’s terrible timing, but I couldn’t be more happier.”

You let out a big sigh of relief that has John laughing along with you.

“Good. Because I don’t know what I would have done, had you said you didn’t want this baby.”

“I would never say that to you, or anyone, for that matter.”

You smile up at him, placing a kiss on his jaw.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” John whispers.

“Yeah,” Your eyes water a bit, stupid hormones. “We are.”

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXI

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: It seems like you are walking toward your happy ending. I really liked this chapter, it was smoothing to write. I hope you will enjoyed it as well. Just pure fluff and... cute intimity.

“ No, don’t go yet…”

You were laying on your bed as Alastor was preparing to leave. He was sitting on your bed, your back toward you, thinking you were sleeping. You sat up, hugging from behind, kissing his cheek. The sun was barely up, he could stay a little longer with you, couldn’t he? You placed your chin against his shoulder, smiling tiredly at him as he turned his gaze toward you with a fond gaze. 

It’s been a few days since you killed Larry. Alastor had talked about it on the radio which made a big buzz. He had a way of talking about it, narrating in a way that everyone was calling the radio station to talk with Alastor and ask him questions. No one was thinking he was the killer, he was always saying someone from the police told him the information. Of course, it didn’t please the officers on the case, but Alastor was beginning to be untouchable. Yesterday, he had dinner with the Mayor, Alyzée’s father, and from what he told you, it went well. You knew he was hiding something because he seemed happier than usual.

“ I need to leave earlier today.” He kissed your nose but he let you tug him back into bed. You smiled as you laid on his body, resting your head near his neck. You could still see some hickeys and bite marks on his skin which pleased you greatly. You hummed when you felt his arms wrapped around you, caressing your naked back. You could almost fall back asleep but you did not want to waste those precious moments with Alastor.

“ I can’t wait to be married and wake up everyday with you by my side…” you smiled, nuzzling against his neck. You heard him chuckled, brushing your hair with his fingers. 

“ You won’t have to wait anymore…” 

You lifted your head up but he kissed you softly on your lips. You closed your eyes as he gently turned you over on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him, breaking contact for two seconds before diving once more on each other's lips. You giggled against his lips as you felt his hands tickle you slightly. He kissed you with a big smile on his face as you began to trashed underneath him.

“ Hush, we wouldn’t want your parents to wake up, right?”

You chuckled as you held his hand with yours. Your parents didn’t know Alastor would sneak into your home so you could have your usual sleepover. Sometimes you would just gossip about what was going on in town. Some other time you would just lay in the bed, reading a book while Alastor was working on his note for his next broadcast. Of course, sometimes you would tease him, or he would tease you building on tension but you never did anything more than preliminary in your own house. 

You would sometimes, like right now, sleep naked next to Alastor, he always liked seeing you like this. Sometimes it wasn’t even sexual, he would just appreciate your beauty which always flustered you. When he was feeling good enough, he would sleep shirtless but it wasn’t often. You never were mad at him for that, you would cuddle happily next to him.

“ Can I take a shower with you then?” you caressed his cheek, smiling as you looked at him tilting his head against your hand. You didn’t want to force him, you knew he liked his space so you always asked if he was okay with you being here. You didn’t think you ever heard him saying no to you…

“ Of course.” He kissed the palm of your hand before standing up, tugging you against him as he saw you shivering because of the cold. He took your bathrobes before you walked into the bathroom. You quickly turned on the water, waiting for it to get hotter. You turned your head toward Alastor who began to undress himself. You didn’t know why but you flushed and looked away.

Now that you think about it, you have never really seen Alastor naked. He always had his pants on.. You  walked under the showerhead, closing your eyes, trying to calm yourself. You didn’t why, you felt giddy. You tilted your head backward as you felt the hot water on your body before smiling as you felt his arms around your waist. 

You turned your head toward him and chuckled as his hair was beginning to get wet, the curls beginning to appear. You took a bottle of shampoo and softly massage Alastor’s head, beaming as you saw him close his eyes, his body relaxing.  You played with his hair, trying to make horns with the bubbles. 

“ Are you having fun?” he teased you, opening one eye to stare at you.

You nodded with a happy grin, before he spinned you around, taking the bottle from your hand and began to wash your hair. You sighed in bliss as you felt his skillful fingers moving against the roots of your hair. You smiled, you felt like melting. You were feeling so good… You opened one eye when you felt him play with the bubbles on your head. You looked in the mirror in front of the shower and quietly laughed as you saw the bubbles horns on your head.

“ Don’t we look amazing?” you laughed.

“ Always.” he kissed your forehead with a soft smile.

You looked at his hands as he gently cleaned your body. Of course, it was Alastor, so he couldn’t help but pinched your skin from time to time, making you yelp. You watched as his hands moved on your legs, your belly, your arms.. You shivered, it was so intimate you could almost feel yourself tearing up. You turned toward him, with a shy smile.

“ Can I do the same?” 

He looked at you, staying silent for almost a whole minute before nodding. You took some soop before gently cleaning his body. You began with his shoulder, moving around his scars, sometimes kissing them before putting soop on it. You smiled when you realized that not even once, Alastor’s body tensed. He was just watching you curiously. At the end, you couldn’t help but kiss him quickly on the lips.

You both had grown so much.

You both washed up before stepping out of the bathtub. You yelp as Alastor trapped you with his arms, kissing your cheek before tousling your hair with a towel. You laughed as you tried to run away but you couldn’t escape Alastor’s arms.

He kissed you, surely to make you shut up. You bit his lips, chuckling before he let you go. You stood in front of the mirror and began to brush your hair. You watched as Alastor was drying his curly hair. He took one curl in his finger with a grimace.

You chuckled before motioning to come closer. He walked toward you and you began to brush his wet hair back. You let one curly hair in front of his forehead, smiling at him. He rolled his eyes at you but you couldn’t help but notice the fond smile on his lips.

Were your married days going to be like this?

You walked out of the bathroom once you finished with Alastor’s hair. He was beginning to dress up as you sat in front of your vanity. It was still early in the morning, but you were now awake, so why not drop by at Alice’s ? 

“ Have you seen my watch, dearest?”

You looked around as you tried to put your hair in a ponytail. You stood up, searching for the watch. Most of the time, Alastor would put it on your nightstand before going to bed. You looked behind the furniture and smiled when you saw the watch. You would have to clean behind it… You made a movement with your hand, and the watch flew toward you. You smirked before turning to Alastor who was looking at you with an amused smirk.

“ Are you enjoying yourself?” He taunted you.

You nodded before telekinized the watch toward his face. You frowned when his shadow caught it before handing it to Alastor, smiling mockingly at you. You stuck your tongue to the shadow who rushed toward you, touching your ankle, with a  big smile. You turned your head, ignoring it but yelped when you felt it pinch your leg. You looked at it before sighing and smiled at it. His grin became hideous once more before going back to Alastor.

“ Not fast enough, dear.” he mocked you before going in front of the mirror to rearrange his tie. You followed him, hugging him from behind and watched as both of your eyes were red, now going back to their usual color.

“ I’ll surprise you.. Be careful.” you pouted.

“ You always surprise me.” He smirked at you before turning around. “ I shall come back tonight with a surprise. Be nice.” He kissed the top of your head.

You looked at him, curiously. A surprise? You bit your lips, you shall play nice for now. No questions would be asked, after all you would have all the answers tonight, right? He leaned toward you, kissing your lips with a hand on your waist. You sighed in bliss as he stepped back, winking at you before leaving by the window. You walked toward the window and watched him as he bowed to you before leaving.

You rolled your eyes with a dumb smile. You didn’t know what to do with yourself when you were feeling this happy. You walked downstairs, relieved to see your mother leaving her room, half-asleep.

“ Oh, sweetie. You’re up early, aren’t you?” she yawned while tying her night robe. You hugged her with a big teasing smile.

“ Or you are up late?” you avoided her tap with a laugh. You made breakfast while talking with your mother. She was praising you, saying you looked more beautiful each day. You blushed a little but had a happy smile on your lips. You were almost 22 years old, you were an adult, ready to be married in three months with Alastor, did happiness make people prettier?

You stayed with your mother until noon when the telephone rang. You stood up from the sofa and took the call.

“ Yes?”

“ Come to my home, now. It’s urgent.”

You looked at the telephone as Alice hung up on you. You felt fear enter your body. Did somebody find clues about your hobbies? You said goodbye to your mother before dashing toward Alice’s house. 

Once you made it, you knocked on the door, greeted the butler and ran toward the living room where Alice was pacing while biting her nail. You walked toward her and took her by the shoulder, trying to control your rising panic.

“ What?” you shouted, breathing hard.

“ You need to sit down!” She pushed you on the couch with a big smile. She sat next to you, giving you a glass of wine. “ Alastor went to dinner with Alyzée’s father, right? Of course, you knew that, but did you know what they talked about?” she was practically bouncing on the sofa. “ Alyzée told me Alastor asked for your marriage to be done before the three months! You don’t have to wait three months to be married!  Alyzée’s father accepted!” she shook you by the shoulders.

You were going to be married… You didn’t have to wait while fearing John might find something on you. You stared at Alice, the wine moving with the force she had while shaking your shoulders.

“ And furthermore ! She didn’t really understand all of it but John is called off the case because he entered Alastor’s domain without a warrant!” She screamed, delighted.

Alastor blamed John for the beartrap to the mayor. John was not on the case anymore. You were free to be married.

You didn’t know you could scream with such joy without Alastor present but you stood up, took Alice’s hands in yours and began to jump around the room. You were getting married! You were getting married! 

You took your glass of wine and drank it with a big smile. You were finally free from Alastor’s father’s disappearance looming on you. You both were screaming like teenage girls. The butler came in with a subtle smile when he saw you both screeching in joy. He put another bottle of wine next to the full one, he must expect you to drink to the happy new.

“ Oh my gosh, Alice..! This.. Finally, I’m..!” you tried your best to calm yourself down. Was that the surprise Alastor had for you tonight? You bit your lips, bouncing on the sofa.  You wanted to see him badly. You took a look at Alice’s radio, well, if you couldn’t see him, maybe hearing him would appease you.

You turned on the radio and smiled widely as you heard the voice of your soon to be husband. You sat next to Alice, beginning to talk about where the reception should be.  You were wondering where your honeymoon would be. You wanted to go somewhere where it was hot, you couldn’t stand winter any longer.

You both jerked your head toward the radio as noise could be heard.

“ Alastor, you bastard!” you heard from the radio. It seemed like they were a big commotion. It sounded like John’s voice…?

“ Well, ladies and gentlemen, please, welcome John Felleur, an officer from the police of New Orleans. Let the lad take place.” you heard Alastor amused voice, not even bothered that his emission has been disturbed by John. “ Well, what can I do for you, officer ?”

“ I have been taken away from the case because of you! You knew I would find dirt on you.” you heard John shout. You heard Alice swear before hearing the crowd making an “ Oouh.” sounds. It seemed like Alastor wasn’t bothered at all by John's statement.

“ Oh yes. You must have heard it, folks, but my father has gone missing. The one on the case was no one but the successful John Felleur. The man has been on my back since then, slavery is abolished you know?” you heard the audience’s laugh. You turned your head toward Alice who was smirking at the radio. You chuckled, she liked drama.

“ Because I know you have something to do with it. Just like last week’s fire, I’m sure I saw you there. You, fucker, have been manipulating everyone around you and now you wished to get married? You even took her away while I could be–”

“ Ooh.. Is John insecure, pursuing allure? Fitting between my father’s case and the hotel’s one, is nothing working?”

“ You–!”

“ Every day, he’s got a new failure!”

“ You’re looking at justice! He is the one behind all of it!”

“ Is John as strong as he purports? Or is it based on his support? He’d be powerless without his family’s name. And here’s the sugar on the cream. He asked my fiancée to be his wife.”

“ Hold on!”

“ She said no, and now he’s pissy, that’s the tea!” Alastor’s laughter echoed into the living room as Alice and you clapped while laughing. As always, Alastor had a way with words that could destroy anyone.

“ Alastor !” you heard John shout. “ I’m not weak. You can’t kill me!”

“ I’ll make you wish I would, my dear friend.” Alastor laughed.

“ I don’t bend to no one.” he spat.

“ Be careful, what doesn’t bend usually breaks.” Alastor hummed. “ Well, folks. I shall leave you, as you can see, I’ll need to have a little chat with our rude friend.  It will be fun.” he chuckled before you heard his coworker’s voice through the radio.

“ Oh, John is done for!” Alice laughed, raising her glass in the air. “ Even his family won’t be able to do anything to save him.” 

You smirked as you drank from your glass. As expected from Alastor, he was a killer, no matter how, he would destroy his victims, leaving nothing left. As Alice stood up, saying she needed to go to the bathroom, you closed your eyes. 

You desperately wanted to be close to Alastor right now. You bit your lips, perhaps…?

You relaxed your body, rooting your feet on the ground.

Papa Legba.

Yes, little lady?

Can I have a spirit which could… Do like Alastor’s shadow? I just want him to feel me near him.

Mhn.. I could send your soul, making your body like you were in a trance.

Would he feel me?

Yes. Just like you can feel his shadow, I don’t think you will be able to touch human being though. 

Then, please, let’s do it.

Of course, don’t forget the rooster.

You felt like you were being slowly pulled out from your body. You looked around, you were floating in the air with a red thread connecting you to your body. You looked at your finger where there was a thread barely visible, you almost didn’t see it. It looked red too but it was going away from your body. Was it showing you where was Alastor?

You followed the thread, flying above New Orleans. It was strange, it was like everything was a dream. You floated through the wall and smiled when you saw Alastor talking with two policemen and John. Only Alastor’s voice was clear, you couldn’t really understand the other voice. You came closer and tried to take Alastor’s hand with yours but your hand passed through him.

You looked at him as he turned his eyes toward you. Was he aware you were here? He looked at his hand then to the policemen. 

Dang it.

You looked down and smiled when you saw his shadow waving at you. You waved at it and tried to ask him if it could help you showing your presence to Alastor. You didn't know why but you couldn't use your voice. The shadow stared at you, tilting its head.

You sighed before watching as Alastor went back to his office. You followed him and looked around, it was the first time you saw his workplace. He sat on his chair and sighed.

“ Those fuckers…” he passed his hands on his face before looking at his notes. You looked at the desk with so many notes. Nothing changed from your youngest years. You smiled softly as you walked around and without noticing it you brushed a sheet of paper that felt on the ground. You looked at it, Alastor was reading notes, not caring about his surroundings.

You smirked.

You walked toward him and threw the notes away.

Alastor jerked up, standing from his chair as he looked at his notes being spread in the air before falling to the ground. He looked at his shadow which was laughing at him.

Come on Alastor, concentre!

You took some of his note and began to fold it, writing your name with it. You smiled widely before turning to Alastor, his eyes red. He came closer and read what the notes were saying.

“ Darling?”

You clapped your hands together before floating around his head. It was funny being the one in control, you understood why Alastor liked it so much. You took the note, writing with the paper a ‘yes’. You watched as Alastor’s body relaxed before sitting back on his chair.

“ This is really impressive.” he smirked, clapping while looking around him before staring in your direction. Was he able to see you now? You moved closer toward you, your hand close to his cheek. “ Your hand is next to my face right? Your energy has always been warm…” he sighed with a soft smile. “ Why are you here, dearest? Have you heard our dear John coming to my show? What a performance, right?” he laughed as you grinned next to him.

You took a sheet of paper and waved it enthusiastically. He grinned at the piece of paper before crossing his arm on his chest.

“ But you didn’t just come here for that, right? You must have gone to Alice, who told you what my dinner with Alyzée’s father was about.” he smirked as you waved once again the paper. You moved the paper everywhere, showing your joy. “ Of course, she did. Well, it seems like the cat is out of the bag now. I, indeed, asked the mayor to marry us as soon as possible and then they could go back to the case.”

You moved your paper, trying to ask why he accepted them to continue the case.

“ You must wonder why? Because, my dear, it would be suspicious of me to call off the investigation. I just said to the mayor I wanted to get married to the woman of my life, I didn’t want my father’s disappearance to be a burden for our family. He accepted easily.” He smirked. “ I’ve been friends with his daughter for years now, and he seemed to like my radio podcast. I didn’t want to mingle with politics but if it can help us…” He stood up from his chair, walking toward you.

You were beginning to feel lightheaded. 

“ Darling, you should go back. As soon as I’m finished, I’ll come to you so we can talk about the wedding ceremony…” he took the paper from you with a soft smile. You peck his lips, hoping he felt it before being tugged back toward your body with the speed of light.

You gasped as you opened your eyes, clenching your heart. You were gasping for air, like you didn’t breathe all the time you were away from your body. You touched your nose as you felt blood coming out of it. You weren’t surprised, you didn't give an offering at Papa Legba before doing this, you needed to quickly give him something.

“ Well, I’m ready to party all night, we should begin to find an outfit for the night- Holy hells, what happened to you?” you heard Alice run toward you. You smiled at her, finding an excuse that Alice didn’t believe in. “ Do I need to bring you home?”

You thought for a second before nodding. She gave you a tissue so your nose bleed didn’t dirty your dress.

“ Unless you are used to blood on your clothes~?” she teased you and you answered her with a wink. You both walked toward your home and you were surprised to see Marie talking with your parents. You smiled at them while going into your bedroom with Alice.  You talked all afternoon and before you knew it you could hear Alastor’s voice downstairs.

You quickly went into the lobby where Alastor was shaking your father’s hand. You smiled at him before running toward him, hugging his body against you. You nuzzled against his torso even when your father asked you to not be too close to Alastor, you still weren’t married.

“ Well, I came here to give you some happy news. I talked with the mayor, he is ready to hold our wedding in two weeks.”

You gasped before you were tugged into your mother’s arms who seemed so happy for you. You both talked about how your father’s work on Alastor’s father’s disappearance wasn’t supposed to hold back your wedding. You looked at your father as he frowned.

“ What about your father?”

“ I won’t lie, my main focus is marrying your daughter. Isn’t it selfish of me to make her wait more than she already did ?” he tilted his head toward your father with his usual smile. You looked at your father who nodded with an hesitant smile. He slapped Alastor on the shoulder, making your fiancée flinch, wishing happiness to your wedding. 

Alice rolled her eyes at Alastor as he walked toward you. He smiled at her while tugging you softly against him once your parents weren’t here anymore.

“ Look at the big boy with his big mouth talking about a big project.” She mocked him.

“ At least, I have a big project.” He smirked but looked at you innocently when you tapped his shoulder, frowning. You knew they didn’t really like each other like you would want them to, but you didn’t like when Alastor was joking about Alice’s incapacity to marry the one she wanted.

“ At least, she has my back.” Alice smirked at Alastor.

“Because if she wouldn’t, who would burden themselves with you?”

You sighed as they kept spitting at each other, but you couldn’t help smiling. You were feeling good.

After an hour or two, you both walked Alice home. She hugged you one last time before leaving you. You tugged Alastor toward the park where you met Papa Legba. You walked with Alastor, smiling happily.

“ Where should our honeymoon be?” you turned toward Alastor.

“ Mhn… Somewhere near the ocean maybe? I’ve never been there.” he smiled at you. You bit your lips, you still didn't know how to swim. “ If you are afraid of drowning, do not be afraid my dear, I’ll be by your side.” He kissed the back of your hand. You smiled softly at him.

“ I did want to go somewhere warm.” 

You smiled as you kept walking in the park, talking about your wedding. You couldn’t wait to wear your dress, you wanted to see Alastor’s reaction.

“ Who should we invite ?” 

“ Well, Alice will be the maid of honor,” you smiled as he rolled his eyes,” My family will come, so I shall invite Alyzée and some other friends but not too many.”

“ Mhn.. I guess I need to bring some people too. Well, I guess Mimzy could come, maybe Victor, if he isn’t too noisy about it.” He thought out loud. “ I don’t have any family left but my mother, which is enough.”

You smiled softly as you watched him look at the sky.

“ On our honeymoon, I think I will be able to do the spell.” he looked at you with a fond smile. “ I can’t wait.”

You grasped his face and kissed him fiercely. You took a step back before he could kiss back, jumping on the grass with a big grin. Your happy ending was so close! You let yourself fall on the grass, humming a song.

“ What do we need for.. the ritual?”

“ Well, we need another powerful spirit.” He sat next to you, taking away the leaves from your hair. “ I will try to invoke him this weekend.”

“ Can I be there?” You looked at him.

“ Well, I can’t say no to you.” He kissed your forehead with a smirk. “ We’ll need enough offerings…”

“ Now that you mention it, I need to give him an offering..”

“ Yes, what happened back then?”

“ My soul left my body,” you said proudly, “ so I could come see you.”

“ It was really impressive,” he said, looking at you with pride. You chuckled as you explained to Alastor how you managed to do that and that his shadow was being able to see you when you were in that state. “ I see… Don’t do it somewhere when you aren’t safe. I don’t know what could happen if you were to be forced out of your trance.”

You nodded with a soft smile, he was always thinking about your security. You sat up, kissing his cheek. You placed your head against his shoulder, looking at the rising moon in the sky. This weekend, you would summon the last spirit you needed for the spell to take place, and the weekend after, you would be wed to Alastor. 

You couldn’t wait.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor @fandomsbookclub @hokkaido97 @catticora @gasiacos

[s0fter-sin]

retired ghoap going on a renovation competition show

ghost takes over the budget and he's ruthless with it; tracking every paint swatch and piece of lumber down to the last cent, haggling for every purchase and making the most of their coupons. soap's in charge of design; he can visualise floor plans better than anyone, seeing the completed spaces in his mind when they’re little more than a steel shell

they run their site like a military base, treating their builders like rookies; expecting them to follow orders but also waiting for them to inevitably mess up so they can fix it

they're an immediate shock to the judges; they fully expected them to have no idea what they're doing, to have no understanding of style or trends, but they didn't sign up just for shits and giggles

they know how to hit a brief and can do physical labour faster than the actual builders. with soap's discerning eye and ghost's practically, they design gorgeous rooms and become a real threat for the prize money. they handle the stress and sleepless nights like it's second nature bc really, it is; a few all nighters painting are nothing compared to being shot at

they also take great joy in messing with the other couples

it takes a while for them to figure out they're even married; they argue like it's going out of fashion, never holding their opinions or frustrations back but it's their love language as much as their banter. you can hear them barking at each other from across the site; callsigns and “It” and “sergeant” thrown around just like in the field

the challenges are where they have the most fun

the day to day? that's work; they're strict, both with themselves and the schedule, never letting anything fall behind or go incompleted. but the challenges? that's play time. they love pushing the brief, toeing the line of the rules purely bc they can

they get to a two part art challenge and ghost's scheming before before the host even opens their mouth. part one? one half of the couple has to design some kind of art piece that will feature in their house. part two? the other person has to gather supplies and tools and make the art

there's a time limit for how long they can take to gather the supplies; once it's up, they can't go back for more and they can only use what they can carry themselves to their station. they're in a warehouse filled with scrap and paint and tools, the choices almost overwhelming

ghost politely interrupts the host to ask for a clarification; absolutely anything in the warehouse can be used so long as they can carry it?

the host confirms; anything under the roof is their's to use

ghost thanks them and steps back in line, standing at attention and waiting for round one to start

ghost volunteers to be the one to do the art, shocking everyone since soap is well known as the artist of the two of them. but soap sees the mischief in his eyes; he knows he's up to something and can't wait to see where it goes

the timer starts and ghost immediately shucks his hoodie and gets to grabbing; stuffing the impromptu bag with everything he recognises from soap's own supplies. there's seconds to go when he bolts for soap, throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry

the other couples are pissed and call it cheating, trying to get them disqualified

ghost just shrugs, soap still over his shoulder, "they said we can use anything we can carry. i followed the brief"

soap just laughs like a mad man

they win the challenge by a landslide

everything's going smoothly, they've won enough room reveals that they’re in a good financial position, they’re ahead in their current room and in a great headspace

then soap gets injured

it's an honest mistake, a part of the roof they thought was stable collapsing and hitting soap

and ghost, always calm and in control, panics

he's on the other side of the site when he hears soap cry out and goes running; shoving past cameramen and builders, screaming to know what happened before he even sees him. he finds soap on the ground, blood dripping from his temple and it's too familiar; a thing he sees in his nightmares

he doesn't know what to do with all his fear so instead, he channels it into anger

he goes off on all his builders, demanding to know how they could be so useless and careless as to miss the unstable roof; screaming at them in a way he hasn't done since he was on active duty, tearing down a rookie for poor trigger management

all the while, his gentle hands tend to soap; checking the wound, if he's concussed, soothing him before he can slip into a flashback of his own. he growls at the cameras, doesn't let the onsite medics anywhere near him; he doesn't know them, doesn't trust them with his johnny. it's only soap's gentle convincing that makes him step back, that forces him to stop and breathe; glaring the medics down from soap's side as they check him and come to the same conclusion soap already reached

he'll be iust fine; a few stitches and he'll be right back in it

ghost goes with him to the hospital to get the stitches laid, abandoning the site to their terrified builders to look after. it takes a few days before he can handle them being separated again, can't even handle one of them going shopping while the other site manages

but soap doesn't begrudge him for his clinginess, not when he knows it's rooted in the fear of losing him. he just keeps him close and calls him his good luck charm when they win the room reveal that week

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x Reader | angsty smut | includes infidelity, Reader is married to a different public servant of Hawkins (can you guess who, @umnitsa ? 😉) Hopper is married as well, death of Hopper’s daughter mentioned, Hopper is a real ass here, unprotected p in v sex, vaginal fingering, ANGST ANGST ANGST…

@mrshopper84 @travelingtwentysomething @beefrobeefcal @braincell-pingpong @skye-44 @midwest-princess @riotrhythm

──────────────────────

“This isn’t right.”

At first, Hopper didn’t hear you speak. He was too distracted by the taste of your soft skin on his tongue, his mouth pressed to your neck in an open kiss. When your words did register in his mind, he disregarded them. Who gave a fuck whether what the two of you were doing was right or wrong? Hadn’t you both earned some happiness? You, with a husband too absorbed in his work to pay you any attention, and Hopper, whose wife had grown so cold and distant after the death of their daughter that she barely let him touch her anymore?

“This isn’t right, Hopper,” you repeated, insistent this time. His grip on your hips tightened, almost hurting. You were sitting on his lap in his office, after hours at the station. In the darkness, just the two of you, just how you liked it. How you needed it to be, to avoid a scandal that would turn the small town of Hawkins upside down...

You became frustrated at Hopper’s disregard for your words, pulling back from him. His jaw tightened, his lips a thin, hard line. “And what makes you think I fuckin’ care if it’s right or wrong?” he asked, his voice husky and impatient. “I want you.” Hopper bounced his knee under you, making you gasp as your cunt settled against the thick outline of his cock. Hopper exhaled as you shifted on top of the erection painfully straining against his uniform. “I want you,” he reiterated, speaking through grit teeth. “I want you and that asshole you’re married to doesn’t.” Hopper’s words stung already, but they were about to get worse.

“That new secretary he just hired? Remember her?” You braced yourself for what you already knew was coming. “He’s fucking her, did y’know that?” Hopper didn’t waste time softening the blow of his words with pretty euphemisms. Why should he? You’d come this far, let him touch you already. You were straddling Hopper’s lap for fucks sake. You wanted this as much as he did, and he’d be damned if he let you pretend to have grown a conscience between the time you straddled his lap and now…

Hopper knew you were a smart woman. You must have known your husband was having an affair, that he’d been unfaithful for as long as the two of you had been married. “Mrs. Kline,” Hopper uttered your name through a cruel smirk. He reached for the strand of hair spilling down your shoulder, gently tucking it behind your ear. You shivered as Hopper’s thumb grazed your earlobe, his skin warm. “Don’t let this time we have go to waste,” Hopper told you. “We both know things aren’t going to change anytime soon, for either one of us.”

You shifted a little on top of his thighs, Hopper’s cock pulsing against your cunt in response. You’d already soaked through your panties, a wet patch leaking through onto Hopper’s pants. He’d have to wash those himself, later. Couldn’t risk his wife finding them in the laundry and asking questions. But a bit of deception was a small price to pay if it meant finally getting inside you.

“Larry is-,” you began, but Hopper bucked you on his knee again, silencing you.

“Mm-mm,” he chastised, shaking his head. “Don’t say the bastard’s name. Not when you’re with me.”

Hopper swallowed any words you may have had left in a kiss. His tongue licked back the apprehension sitting on the edge of yours, the things you knew you should say, but didn’t want to. Mainly, the word “no.” You didn’t want to tell Hopper no.

His large hands held you down against his lap, thumbs finding purchase in the space where your hips and thighs met. Being the mayor’s wife, you’d interacted with the Chief of Police several times over the years. But never like this. The time you’d spent together had been social, limited to local events. Always public, always within the gaze of the people of Hawkins. The eyes of the public on you had forced both you and Hopper to keep your desire for one another a secret. But now, years later, you’d both grown weary of pretending, of keeping things professional. His hand slipped between your legs, gliding under the waist of your panties. You gasped as Hopper inserted two of his thick, calloused fingers inside you without warning. A cocky little grin pulled at his lips. “Just warming you up, sweetheart,” he drawled confidently, adding “Christ you’re fuckin’ tight…Might send you back to Lare a little broken, y’know…?”

You moaned into Hopper’s chest as he fingered you, humping against his palm. No matter how fucking good his fingers felt inside you, he was still Jim Hopper. The same man who’d developed a reputation for drinking and drug use while on the job. The same man whose wife was presumably sleeping soundly right now, at the home she shared with Hopper, having bought the lie he’d sold her about needing to stay late at the station for ‘work.’ He was working, but not the way he’d implied. Hopper’s fingers working inside you were an altogether different kind of work, the way he manipulated your cunt yet another form of manipulation he was very skilled at, in addition to lying to his wife.

“You’re so close,” Hopper gloated at your ear in a low, smug voice. The fact that he was getting you off with nothing but his fingers was stroking Hopper’s ego, just like his fingers were stroking your insides. He held a misplaced sense of pride in being able to do for you what your husband couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do. It was something Hopper could accomplish, something he could succeed at, in contrast with his crumbling marriage. Maybe instead of thrusting his fingers up another woman’s cunt, he should have been at home with his wife, working on repairing his marriage. But Hopper wasn’t interested in what he should be doing. All he wanted to do, was you.

The sound of Hopper’s chair creaked loudly in the small office at the impact of you grinding on his lap. He smacked your ass with the hand that wasn’t between your legs, then carefully removed the one that was. You whimpered at being suddenly empty, pouting up at Hopper in frustration. He didn’t deny you for long, quickly working his belt and pants undone, his cock springing free and smacking thick and wet against your cunt with an audible slap. Hopper lifted you by your hips, guiding you onto his plump, leaking tip and letting you sink onto him at your own pace.

Hungry, greedy, your cunt swallowed Hopper with minimal difficulty. You managed to take him whole, your clit pressed against the coarse dark hair above Hopper’s cock. He growled behind grit teeth, as the sensation of being consumed by you overtook him. It had been years since Hopper had been with a woman besides his wife. The grip of fresh pussy moving up and down his shaft caused Hopper’s brain to temporarily glaze over. He was lurched back into awareness by the harsh ring of the telephone sitting on his desk.

“Ignore it,” Hopper panted, speaking to himself as much as you. A moment later, the phone ceased ringing. When the shrill sound began again less than a minute later, Hopper pulled his lips from your throat and cursed. He knew there was only one person who would be trying to reach him here at this time of night. Hopper reached for the phone, gently lifting it from the receiver. He brought his index finger against his lips, instructing you to remain quiet. Forcing his voice as steady as possible, considering you were grinding up and down on his cock, Hopper spoke: “Diane?” You nuzzled your face into Hopper’s neck, muffling your own sounds into his shirt. A woman’s voice on the other end of the line spoke, but you couldn’t make out the words. You didn’t want to. All you wanted was to keep riding Hopper, moving closer and closer to your peak.

“I can’t-I uh-,” Hopper stammered, swallowing. You could feel the heat radiating from his chest, the sweat blooming beneath the hair peeking out from his shirt collar. “I’m gonna be a little longer, sweetheart,” Hopper managed, clearing his throat. He closed his eyes in an attempt to remove the image of your breasts bouncing in front of him with every descent you made on his cock. His wife’s voice chattered away on the other end of the line. “Thirty minutes,” Hopper said, and inwardly, you grimaced. You wanted all night with him, but under the circumstances, both your options and Hopper’s were limited.

“Yeah,” Hopper grunted, followed by a rushed “love you too,” before he quickly replaced the phone on top of the receiver. You paused, meeting his eyes in the dim light of his office. “Is that true?” you asked tentatively, your voice breathless. Hopper’s hands were all over you again, as if the phone call had never happened. His expression conveyed annoyance as he sorted out what you were asking him, his response a confused “what?”

“She said I love you,” you explained. “Your wife. And you said it back.” Hopper’s eyebrows lifted incredulously. “Yeah,” he said. “What’s your point?”

“Did you mean it?” you asked, despising how pitiful and small you sounded in this moment. Hopper exhaled, the cruel smirk returning to his lips. “How is that any of your fucking business?” he asked through a humorless chuckle. His smile evaporated as a darker look replaced it. “Now you listen to me, because here’s how this is gonna work-.” His hands slid down your thighs, squeezing a little too hard. “-You’re gonna keep these legs spread till I come in between them and then we’re gonna part ways like this never fuckin’ happened, understand?” You nodded, forcing the tears behind your eyes not to fall. You wouldn’t give Hopper the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt you anymore than he already had.

Hopper nodded, satisfied with your compliance. “Good girl,” he said, without any sentiment behind his words. Hopper’s arms crushed you against him as he bucked up into you. His shoulders tensed, the muscles in his stomach tightening. Hopper’s grunts of exertion grew sharper, till his body stilled tight against yours, his cum spilling inside you. With his forehead pressed to your shoulder, Hopper panted hot and labored against your chest.

The absence of sound in the office, apart from Hopper’s breath, was far from quiet. A sick tension hung in the air, his cold words repeating back in your mind on a loop. After a moment, Hopper patted your ass and instructed you to “get up.” He held onto the base of his cock as you slid off it, a thick trail of semen gushing out and landing on his thigh. Hopper cursed, almost as if implying the mess was your fault. He turned his back to you, lighting a cigarette. Feeling unsatisfied and worse, ashamed, your voice was trembling when you quietly asked, “should I…go?”

Hopper’s shoulders moved in small chuckle, and he turned to face you. His cock was still hanging out, as if he was in no hurry to put it away. You, by contrast, had already begun to dress. Hopper sucked a long drag out of his cigarette, exhaling as he informed you flatly, “yeah, we’re done here.” He reached for his coat and made his way to the door. Even though you were fully dressed by now, you felt more exposed than ever. He waved his hand ahead of him, ushering you out the front door of the station. “See yourself out,” Hopper directed. The hurt inside you was beginning to boil over into rage. You’d never felt more used in your life, even after being humiliated by your husband’s affairs for years. “Fuck you, Jim,” you spat at him, your saliva landing on his cheek. Hopper’s eyebrows lifted in a look of amusement. “Well that already happened,” he taunted.

The cold night air was oddly welcoming as you burst through the station door and out into the parking lot. You found your vehicle and quickly got inside, your hands squeezing the steering wheel till your fingers cracked. You left the station and made your way home to your husband, while another man’s cum slowly leaked out of you onto the driver’s seat the whole way home.

[camarocarfight]

Alastor's Bloody Valentine

Human Alastor x Reader late Valentine's Day special

Rated very mature with sexual content, murder, blood, and gore. Set in the 1930s with human characters. I suppose you could look at this as being a little Alastor back story.

Maybe there'll be a part deux?

It's kinda edited, but I got lazy and lost interest, and I just wanted to finish it. I hope all of you dear readers enjoy!

New Orleans, 1932

There was a chill in the air, carried in on a breeze that whistled through the old willow trees, and rustled their long, spindle-like branches. The trill of grasshoppers and crickets and the occasional screech of a night owl were customary of the bayou. Only interrupted by the nightly steam train, whose whistle echoed for miles until it faded like a whisper. There was no moon - only an ebony sky accompanied by its thousands of starry hosts. 

As serene as it all seemed, the bayou was one of the most dangerous places to be in 1932. Not just because of the alligators, snakes, and venomous spiders. The neighboring town was full of talk about the Louisiana serial killer, who lured their victims into the darkness of the bayou to slaughter them, leaving no trace or remains. People simply vanished, though it seemed to be mostly men of diverse age and status. Innocent and not so innocent. The most recent being a younger gentleman who had just gotten married. The papers did fail to mention that he'd nearly beaten his new wife within an inch of her life not long after the wedding, but news traveled fast. He was the thirteenth person to go missing.

With Valentine's Day came the fear of who the next victim would be. Mothers and wives kept tight leashes on their sons and husbands, and the police put in place a mandatory curfew. Temporary police sentinels were stationed on street corners, keeping watch over the streets day and night. Which subsequently made it more difficult to get to and from the only speakeasy in town. The police were happy - killing two birds with one stone. 

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, don't let this curfew get you down. Take your gal out on the town for some swing and make the most out of your Valentine's Day. Ladies, keep your gents close, and stay safe-”

“Y’see,” Mimzy turned the cathedral radio off with a huff and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest. “This curfew is ruinin’ everything!” 

You rolled your eyes and leaned your elbow on the bar and rested your cheek in the palm of your hand. Mimzy had been on a tangent for the last week for having to close the speakeasy. Being that it was in the basement of an old sugar mill, it was too risky to keep it running with the police snooping around. In one night, with the help of Husker, all of the liquor was moved under the cover of darkness to the crawl space of Alastor's hunting cabin deep in the bayou. The liquor would at least be safe if the police felt it necessary to search the sugar mill. The only thing they'd find would be an empty stage and bar. 

With no speakeasy, the regular meet and greet for you and all of your friends was the cabin. It was a comfortable space, at least. Alastor had used the extra money he made from his radio show to install new, polished wood floors, a nice bar, and even a loft with a decent sized bed when he would stay for the first week of hunting. It also had a decent kitchen, which was Alastor's favorite feature. As for you, Alastor made sure to give you your own bit of space. In the corner of the main room was a stone fireplace with book shelves flanking either side. The shelves were filled to the brim with books of every genre. Hanging above the fireplace was Alastor’s prized Stag - previously occupied by Alastor’s portrait from when he was in the service. You never did tell him just how creepy you found the stuffed creature. Alastor loved the hunting sport, but you appreciated wildlife as just that; alive. 

Mimzy sauntered over from the radio and sat herself on a rickety barstool, her brows pinched. “How am I gonna make money? Who knows how long this whole thing will go on for. And where's Alastor? His show ended an hour ago. His ass better not be dead too.”

You sighed and stood from your barstool to round the bar. There was a bottle of, ironic enough, Red Stag that was already open. It wasn't your first choice, but prohibition made everyone less picky. You poured yourself a generous glass, only for Mimzy to swipe it from you, and gulp it down in one swig. Your eye twitched in irritation as you glared at the woman through your lashes. The relationship between the two of you was decent enough, but as of late, she'd been grating your nerves and testing your patience. Mimzy's flamboyant personality didn’t jive well with your own in an enclosed space. You were more reserved, shy, and softly spoken. Not to mention that the cabin had always been an intimate space for you and Alastor. It didn't seem so intimate now - being that it was now shared space with Mimzy and Husker. 

“Would you like another drink before I pour my own,” you asked, your voicing clipped. 

Your head was pounding now, with a migraine blooming behind your eyes. The little grin that slid over Mimzy's lips told you that she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Actually, Doll, I would,” she flashed you a grin with her nose wrinkling as she did so. “You're such a good friend,” Mimzy cooed and thrust her empty glass in your face. 

Your grip on the bottle of Red Stag was white knuckle, and you opened your mouth to give her a piece of your mind, but the words caught in your throat when the cabin door opened. Both you and Mimzy looked over to see Husker coming through the door with Alastor trailing behind him. Your shoulders visibly deflated when your gaze met Alastor's.

Mimzy put her glass down on the bar and threw her arms up in glee. “Alastor! I'm so glad to see you!”

“And I you,” Alastor grinned. “Thanks for holding down the fort and watching over my darling for me.”

“I don't need a babysitter,” you grumbled and nodded your head at Husker when he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Husk.”

“Cher,” Husk greeted in that deep, baritone voice. 

Alastor laughed boisterously and leaned on the bar in front of you. Upon meeting his gaze, his chocolate brown pools started to melt away all of the tension in your body. It was so easy for you to get lost in his eyes. 

“I jest, my dear. Husker here is going to drive Mimzy home, and we are going to celebrate!”

Mimzy quirked a brow and made a sound akin to a high-pitched scoff. “I ain't ready to leave yet. I want to celebrate too! We could have a round of drinks!”

Husk had noticed that you and Alastor had yet to tear apart your gazes and were seeming lost in each other. Alastor flashed you a dazzling smile and leaned over the bar to press a chaste kiss to your lips. That was enough for your cheeks to flush and become a brilliant crimson. 

“C'mon,” Husk grabbed Mimzy's fur coat off the coat rack and all but threw it into the woman's face. “Before I drag your ass to the car.”

Mimzy put her coat on in a huff, then fussed over her hair, throwing insults at Husker as she did so. 

“Thank you,” you mouthed to Alastor and waved to Mimzy as she was all but pushed out the door by Husker. You could hear her nagging as she walked all the way to the door. “Poor Husker.”

“He'll live,” Alastor hummed and gave you a wink. “Mimzy, however,” he chuckled.

“That would be too good to be true,” you mumbled and grabbed the bottle of Red Stag to pour yourself that long awaited glass. “How was work?”

Alastor set about removing his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress. Your gaze was drawn to the newly exposed, tan flesh of his forearms. “Same as always, my dear. I'm sure you were listening?”

“Until Mimzy turned the radio off,” You walked into the main sitting area and sat in your favorite rocking chair. 

In your left hand was your glass of bourbon that you then took a sip of. From over the brim of the glass, you continued to study your partner as he made himself comfortable. Alastor's bowtie was now untied, and the top button of his dress shirt undone, exposing a delicious expanse of his neck. Being that it was Valentine's Day, you hoped that it meant that Alastor wouldn't mind taking everything farther than usual. The man would tease you here and there, whispering dirty things in your ear, because he knew it riled you up. The act of sex, however, just didn't fit his idealism. Any affection from Alastor would include kissing and touching, maybe heavy petting, but the two of you had only had penetrative sex a handful of times. Each time it happened was mind-blowing, leaving you craving more and waiting on bated breath to feel him the same way again. You could feel yourself beginning to flush just thinking about it - the heat slowly building up in your chest and rising until your cheeks were crimson. At least you could blame it on the bourbon, which you quickly threw back and tore your gaze away from Alastor. 

“So,” Alastor sat down on the couch and crossed his legs, and draped his left arm over the back of the couch. “Quiet evening with a shared drink, my darling?”

Honestly, the man was entirely too distracting. It didn't help either that the bourbon was affecting you far sooner than you anticipated. Your mind blanked, seeing Alastor sitting there - sleeves rolled up, bowtie undone, the red vest that matched his trousers that fit him entirely too well. Alastor was your perfect definition of a sex-god that had a distaste for the very thing that you craved. His smoldering gaze and satisfied, closed-mouth grin told you that he knew exactly what  kind of effect he had on you. 

“Are you alright,” he cocked his head to the side. “You look bothered.”

“You're a tease,” you swallowed. 

Alastor’s brows rose in surprise. “Me? I'm just sitting here,” he laughed and beckoned you over with his finger. “Come here, my darling.”

A bolt of red-hot arousal shot right up your spine, and your body moved automatically, seemingly out of your control and under Alastor’s. Alastor moved to uncross his legs and seized you by the hips with his strong hands. You now stood in between his spread thighs, looking down into his brown eyes as he gazed up at you. His lips quirked in a crooked grin, making him look like the cat who got the cream. 

“Tell me how I'm a tease,” Alastor whispered huskily. 

You brought your hands up to cup his face and ran your left thumb along his bottom lip. “You know what you do to me, Alastor.”

Alastor grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Oh, I'm well aware,” the man's pupils were now blown with his own need. “Would you like me to do something about that?”

Relief flooded you, and you nodded eagerly. By now, the bourbon was really beginning to have an effect on you and how much you needed the man before you. “I've been waiting so long, Alastor.”

“The wait makes it worthwhile,” he growled.

Before your tipsy mind could even comprehend what was happening, Alastor stood, effortlessly hoisting you up by the hips, and bounded towards the spiral staircase of the loft Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his slim waist. Alastor’s arousal was very noticeable against your own pelvis. The heat from his girth radiated through his slacks. When his lips met yours in a fevered kiss, your mind blanked with arousal. Your senses quickly became overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, and his taste as his tongue coaxed your own in a scorching kiss. Alastor eagerly devoured your mouth and every subsequent moan he drew from you. He broke the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he did so. His lips then trailed down to the column of your neck where he sank his teeth into the supple flesh. You hissed from the pain and carded your fingers through his brunette hair until you had a handful and tugged, earning a groan from him. 

“Fuck it,” Alastor growled and sat you on the steps of the spiral staircase. 

Alastor’s hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down your legs, leaving the silk garment dangling from your left ankle. You gasped when he cupped your dripping sex in his left hand and breathed against the side of your neck. 

“I’ll have you right here,” he growled and claimed your mouth once again. 

You moaned wontanly into his mouth when he penetrated you with two fingers and curled them against your g-spot. Even though sex was a rare occasion, Alastor had memorized your body from the inside out. Knowing every sensitive spot to kiss, lick, or bite. Alastor groaned and pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, ripping the most delicious moans from your throat. Each and every sound you made went straight to his cock that was now straining uncomfortably in his slacks. With a tweak of his fingers, Alastor had you coming with his name falling from your lips like the most beautiful prayer. 

“Alastor,” you were breathless, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. “I need you inside me.”

Alastor’s eyes darkened, and he carefully withdrew his fingers from your quivering sex. “You’ll have me,” he whispered and kissed you chastly. 

The sound of Alastor’s belt buckle was like music to your ears, as your body was finally getting the attention that it so badly craved. With your left hand, you reached between you and Alastor and took his now freed, sizeable length in your hand. You bit your lip and looked up at Alastor through your eyelashes. Alastor held your gaze as he guided himself into your tight heat, slowly splitting you open and seating himself inside you. Both of you panted, attempting to adjust to the almost foreign sensation. No, you weren’t a virgin, but Alastor had been your first, and since sex wasn’t a regular occurrence, it took both of you longer to adjust. You, more so than Alastor. 

He was thankfully patient, waiting until the pained look on your face was no longer before slowly pulling out and thrusting back into the hilt. The man clenched his teeth painfully and screwed his eyes shut, completely drunk off of the feeling of you fitting around him so perfectly. 

You held onto Alastor tightly, with your nails digging into the flesh of his back, even through his dress shirt. Alastor’s hands had your hips in a death grip, and you hoped that you would have bruises left in their place. You wanted Alastor to claim you - mark you -  so that everyone knew you belonged to him. 

“Come inside me, Alastor,” the words fell from your lips in a pathetic whimper before you even realised what you said.

The look Alastor gave you startled you, and his hips stuttered to a pause. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, Alastor’s eyes searching your own as if looking for truth behind that request. You feared your moment of intimacy with Alastor was ruined until he started moving once more. This time, he moved slower, taking his time pulling all of the way out and sinking back into you. He continued to hold your gaze and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Is that what you want,” Alastor asked, but it was barely above a  whisper. “To be mine, forever?”

Of course it’s what you wanted. Alastor had been your first, and you wanted no one else. It was difficult for you to imagine your life any different. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about starting a family with Alastor. You brought your hands up to Alastor’s face and looked into those chocolate pools.

“Make me yours, forever, Alastor.”

~~~

You awoke the next morning, nestled in the king-sized bed of the loft alone. Alastor was nowhere to be found, with his side of the bed neatly made. Between your legs was an ache and a stickiness in the inside of your thighs that served as a reminder of the previous night's activities. What little bourbon you had, had also left you with a slight headache that settled over your temples. Coffee would be a good fix, and you wondered why you hadn't smelled it perking if Alastor had already been up. 

There was a fire going in the fireplace when you made your way down the staircase, confirming that Alastor was around, but nowhere to be seen. You thought nothing of it and went over to the kitchenette to get coffee perking and breakfast ready for whenever Alastor returned. 

You sat down in your rocking chair by the fireplace when the coffee was ready to enjoy your cup. The chair rocked rhythmically on the hardwood floor, nearly lulling you to sleep until you heard a god awful noise coming from the crawlspace under the cabin. Your first thought was that a stranger or the police had found the liquor stash, and you bolted out of the chair to get the pistol hidden among your books. 

The door to the crawlspace was in the kitchenette and was flung open, revealing a blood covered Alastor. The man looked up at you with blood splattered across his face and chest, staining his white dress shirt. There was enough blood that you couldn't tell if it was coming from Alastor or not. 

You dropped the pistol that was in your hands and rushed over to him, and hooked your arms around his arm. “A-alastor, what the hell? Are you-”

“It's fine!” He laughed and looked down at you with a grin. “It's not mine.”

Your eyes widened, and you took a tentative step away from him and shook your head. “Then, whose is it?”

Alastor ignored your question and casually walked over to the pot of coffee on the stove. He poured himself a mug, all the while humming a song with that same grin on his face. 

“Alastor,” you demanded. “You're scaring the hell out of me.”

“I'm sorry,” he put his coffee mug on the counter and turned back to you. “This,” he pointed to his stained shirt. “Is just the latest victim.”

“The latest…,” you paled, with the details finally coming together. “You're him.”

Alastor flashed you that dazzling grin and opened a drawer next to the stove. Without even looking, Alastor pulled a massive knife out and studied it. 

“Did you know, my darling, that in order to inflict a fatal wound, you need at least fifteen inches of penetration?”

“Please put the knife do-”

You gasped. Before you could even react, Alastor lunged forward, plunging the knife deep in your abdomen. He stood in front of you, holding the blade in place with his smile never faltering. Pain blossomed throughout your body, and you began to choke on the blood that bubbled up through your throat. You coughed and watched the blood mixed sputum splatter across Alastor’s already stained shirt. Tears fell freely from your eyes, staining your cheeks, and your trembling hands grabbed onto Alastor’s arm that still held the knife inside you.

Blinking up at Alastor through your tears, you saw no remorse on his face. Just that twisted grin that you had fallen in love with so many years ago. 

“You should know I'm too much like my father to have children,” Alastor said darkly. “That's a risk I cannot take.”

Alastor pulled the knife out of your abdomen and stepped back as you crumpled to the floor on your knees. The pain was white-hot, but it was nothing compared to that of your broken heart. Your body screamed for his closeness and wanted to hate him for everything. Even after the previous night, after telling you he would be with you forever. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, you held pressure on the wound, but you knew it was no use. You were dying. At the hands of your lover.

“It won't be long, my love,” Alastor got down on one knee and brushed your hair out of your face. “I'm sorry I had to do this.”

“F-fuck you,” you gasped and choked. 

Your vision was beginning to fade in and out, along with your hearing. The weight of your body suddenly became too much and you fell to your side. Before your head hit the floor, Alastor had caught you and laid you down gently. The last sensation you felt, other than the pain, was Alastor kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, similar to that of the kiss you shared while making love. He didn't care about the blood that pooled from your mouth, but seemed to enjoy it more than anything. When he broke the kiss, you met his gaze, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I'll see you in hell,” you spit, using every ounce of energy you had left before going still.

Alastor smiled down at your now lifeless body and ran his fingers through your hair. A single tear ran down his cheek, and his smile grew into a grin.

“It's a date.”

Part Two

[jupiterspacestation]

never know when i'll finish this 😭😭

[wszczebrzyszynie]

i do have a question but first I just wanna say oh my GOD I LOVE YOUR SPACE MINING AU SO MUCH!!! The vibes, the story, the characters, everything!!!!!!

and my question: do you have any plans for Scott? He's been mentioned a couple times but hasn't been given much information other than being Jimmy's divorced husband. Do you have any concepts for him? How did he handle his and Jimmy's divorce? Your au makes me go so crazy in a good way <33

Scott is not a prominent character and doesnt really show up that much; he doesnt really have a reason to, as he lives and works on a space station somewhere in the solar system. More info related to him below (and thank you for the kind words! Im glad so many people like this au!)

Space stations themselves arent really fullfilling the same role in the au as they do for us? Theyre bigger and made to fit a lot more people in. A lot of the planets arent habitable for the long run but are otherwise rich in resources, so there are usually small bases on the planet itself (for active mining) and one in space; Scott works in maintance (mostly plants and food related... things. I imagine something like the gardening mechanics from subnautica) on one of those space stations. Thats how he met Jimmy; they got along, dated and then married very quickly, which went well for a while, until it just... didnt. natural falling out of love i suppose. Scott handled it better than Jim did, but that has less to do with their view on the relationship and more with the fact that Scott was Jimmys only hm, normal close person. The divorce left Jim with a middle age crisis at the age of max 30 and Scott with a very awkward ex-husband friend, because despite everything they still keep in touch. Scott is sure Jimmy would go insane if they didnt. Scott is also very much aware of Jimmys weird criminal semi-family (met both Grian and Pearl on the wedding. not sure if Pearl was invited but even if she wasnt she let herself in and they got along insantly. And then had a falling out around the time of the divorce so you can imagine Pearl as Jimmys first and best divorce hype woman), and later of Tango, but he just... doesnt care. Teases Jim sometimes about turning them in so his life can get even a bit better, but he wouldnt... probably

The space station is not exactly his dream place but it works well enough; he loves the no-gravity space and space walking, so everywhere in more or less open space is a good enough choice for him. Hes fine with taking care of the food and whatnot too. Hes not really into gardening but he likes when things Work Well and Look Pretty, so he does his job pretty well. Hopes to one day leave for something more

Less on Scott and more on Jimmy, but i think its a good thing to mention when talking about their relationship: if Scott for some reason offered, Jimmy would come back to him, but not vice versa. Theyre both very confident about the choices they take in life; in Scotts case its because hes actually good at planning things out and can be 100% sure about what he does with himself. He has a stable life that he worked hard on himself and knows what his options are. In Jimmys case its because hes proud and if he wasnt forcing himself to be as confident as possible about what he does at all times he would probably break. That man has very little idea about most things in his life but would rather eat dirt than admit that. That being said the loneliness would make all of this crumble the second Scott says something. It changes later on but thats the headspace Jimmy starts with in this au! desperate

[lixiesfreckless]

Early | l. m.

➸ synopsis: God, you want him so bad it's almost pathetic.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader

➸ word count: 2.5k

➸ general content: acquaintance!minho, reader is horrendously down bad, insane amounts of pining, like- this entire fic is just the reader pining for him lmao

➸ warnings: mentions of alcohol, mild swearing

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author’s note: I'd like to thank @ashonheavenscloud for the ending idea. sorry for the readers I'm about to blueball

♫ early- junny, soulbysel(THIS IS LITERALLY THE INSPO FOR THE FIC)

“Yeah, I can take her home.”

Ryujin claps a little too loudly, courtesy of the several drinks she had shotgunned an hour before.

“Thank you bestest older brother in the universe,” she slurs, wrapping her arms around the older man, who was furrowing his eyebrows in mild discomfort. You stand there awkwardly, already feeling like you were inconveniencing him as well.

As bad as you felt about it though, you couldn't help the nervousness creeping through your veins at the thought of being alone with Minho.

It's not as if you've never been alone with him. You have; just in transitional spaces. Waiting for the rest of the friend group to show up. Waiting for different trains at the metro station. Waiting for the closer mutual friend to come back from the restroom. Hell, him dropping you off wasn’t really any different.

You really don't talk to him much at all, which makes it all the more ridiculous that you even have a crush on him.

And yet, you just let it fester, held back by the classic best-friend’s-older-brother unofficial rulebook. But you think even if he wasn't related to Ryujin, you still wouldn't make a move, simply too shy to find out what was under his impenetrable blank stare and trademark doc martens.

After snatching up your purse, you quickly say goodbye to your friends before catching Minho at the door.

“Sorry about all this again–”

“I was already on my way out, don't sweat it.”

Minho holds the door to the club open for you, and you step out into the crisp coolness of night, trying to appear as collected as the man walking beside you.

“My car is just around the corner, I'm just gonna grab some water for you from the store, okay?”

You find yourself nodding, although you're barely paying attention; you are focusing on averting your gaze from his face, careful as to not give yourself any more daydreaming material.

His car has one of those proximity keys, so there's no cheerful chirp letting the block know that he's about to open the passenger side door for you. Which is how it should be, because that is not a monumental occasion.

Except oh my god, Lee Minho just opened the door for you to get into his car, you might as well be married at this point.

You watch as he disappears into the little corner convenience store, and returns in record time, barely giving you any time to rehearse any cool sounding conversation starters. Then again, it's not like there would be a long line at well past three in the morning.

Shit. You're in Lee Minho’s car going to your house at three in the morning.

Your thoughts are cut off by Minho jumping into the driver’s side, swiftly starting the car and dropping two bottles of water into the cupholders.

“You live right in front of the memorial park right?”

You settle on a hum, not trusting your voice to sound calm in the slightest as his hand reaches for the gear shift. Coincidentally, that's the same time you choose to take your bottle of water from the center console.

And this is how you learn that Minho’s hands are softer than they look.

You don't stand a chance against the tidal wave of thoughts that flood your mind immediately after the accidental contact, your mind suddenly reeling with images of his hands cradling your face, sliding behind your neck, around your waist, through your hair–

“Sorry,” you squeak out, immediately seizing the bottle and twisting it open, desperate for something to lower your rising body temperature. He actually chuckles in response, and the sound has you focusing on the cool leather seat against your bare back in an attempt to round up your remaining brain cells.

He pulls the car away from the curb, beginning what will probably be the longest ten minutes of your life.

There are some things you pick up on immediately.

For one, Minho predominantly drives with one hand.

You honestly don't get how he looks so relaxed doing it either, side profile completely at ease as his right hand absentmindedly taps on the gear shift. If you were in the driver's seat, both hands would be at 10 and 2 o’ clock, just like your driving instructor taught you. Which is exactly why you take the metro; you feel like a stressed suburban mom when you drive, but don't have the time to rewire your brain to make your hands sit at 8 and 4 o’ clock like everyone else.

But he looks like he's shooting a Hyundai commercial, hand resting comfortably on the top of the wheel as the soft orange glow of the dash illuminates his perfect nose bridge and perfect eyelashes–

“Are you cold?” 

“No, I’m good,” you reply, trying and failing to keep the questioning tone out of your voice.

“Sorry- thought I saw you shiver just now,” he chuckles, glancing at you and letting his eyes drop to your legs for a split second.

Honestly, you probably did shiver; just not from the cold.

Also, why on earth did you decide to wear this dress of all dresses tonight?

Backless and short with a halter neckline, one could call this a revenge dress if you had an ex. Except it’s starting to feel like revenge on yourself, because as fleeting as Minho’s glances towards you are, they never go unnoticed, and each one makes the hem feel an inch shorter.

Granted, the slope of the seat makes the skirt ride up anyways, so it was inevitable, but you can't pull it down—he would immediately think you lied to him about being cold. Or get the idea that you didn't want him to look at your legs. Which would be ridiculous; he's practically the whole reason you wore this dress in the first place. 

You're stretching your legs out before you can give it a second thought, and you don't miss the way Minho’s jaw sets, or how his finger stops drumming against the gear shift.

Now that made you more than a little curious.

The second thing you notice is Minho’s excellent taste in music.

You assume his phone automatically connected to the car once he turned it on, because no radio station you can list off the top of your head has beats this smooth. You've never considered what kind of music he would listen to, mostly because you were worried about what he would think of your music taste. 

But this? 

These are exactly the kinds of songs you would play if you wanted to set the mood. They sound like what the world looks like after the last hues of purple leave the horizon. Indigo. Whatever that means.

You can't help but wonder if he was trying to set the mood.

Oh god, you're almost to your apartment and you haven't said anything interesting since you left the club.

You steal a glance at his side profile, once again reminded that Minho can rock any hair color he chooses as the street lights reflect blue off of his jet black hair. It gives him a darker aura, one that stops most lingering gazes on him from ever getting closer. Sure, it's not much different from the color he had before, which was dark brown, but the change makes a difference. To you at least. 

You saw its effects in action, watching all night as girls at the club try to approach him to only end up shooting their shot with his companion, who was always eager to down tequila shots with bright eyes and cheeky smiles.

“The new hair looks good.”

“Didn't catch that,” he quickly says, turning down the volume of the music with his steering wheel and slowing to a stop at a red light.

“I like what you did with your hair.”

“Really? I honestly didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“The girls at the club sure did,” you half-laugh, and he turns to look at you in bewilderment.

“You think so?”

“You could have filled a swimming pool with how much they were drooling.”

Minho laughs. He actually laughs at something you said. The sound makes you so dizzy you think someone slipped something into your drink.

The feeling of the car sliding in next to the curb pulls you back down to reality in an instant.

He puts the car into park and you slump into your seat, not at all trying to hide how disappointed you are at your performance tonight.

“Thanks for driving me home,” you whisper, not daring  to look him in the eyes as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Anytime,” he says so casually, and maybe a bolder you would take him up on that offer.

Instead you nod and smile, and reach for the door handle.

“Y/n.”

You hum and look back at him, trying your best to ignore the turmoil in your stomach once your eyes meet.

“I…this might sound a bit odd, but can I use your bathroom?” He smiles crookedly. “My place is still a ways away–”

“Sure,” you say without thinking, and he nods and jumps out of the car. You definitely can't read into that. Maybe he really can't wait until he gets home. Maybe he doesn't want an excuse to be in your apartment past midnight.

Still, your hands tremble as you twist your keys in the doorknob.

You kick your heels off upon entering, and Minho follows suit, ditching his combat boots by the door as he awaits your instruction.

Looking up, you catch him watching you expectantly, and you indulge the attention before realization dawns on you.

“Oh– the bathroom, yes. Last door on the left, sorry,” you hastily choke out, shaking your head in embarrassment. He chuckles out thanks before sliding past you and disappearing around the corner.

Water. You need water.

The coolness of the marble counter feels good against your bare back as you lean against it, trying to get a grip as cold water rushes down your throat. Maybe you should just attempt to make a move on a different night, when you have a little more liquid courage running through your veins and he’s as hazy as he is handsome. Your mind wanders back to that blissful moment in the car, when he threw his head back in a fit of laughter. That felt so natural, so easy. Why couldn’t you make him do that all the time?

Well, maybe you could, but that requires talking to him regularly, which is something you only do in your daydreams.

Minho suddenly steps out of the bathroom and you fight the urge to choke on your water, setting the glass down on the counter as he approaches you.

“I take it you like jasmine?

“The flower?” The random trivia throws you off guard. “Yeah, it’s my favorite flower…how did you–”

“Everything in your bathroom is jasmine scented,” Minho chuckles, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Ah, well…I found it helps to match everything to your perfume so it seems to last longer.”

“So you’re saying my car should smell like jasmine when I go back?”

“Only one way to find out,” you say with a smile, internally crying over how you just created a seamless segue for him to leave.

He turns to go find his combat boots, and you punch the air, frantically looking for an excuse for him to stay. But he’s standing by the door too soon, running a hand through his silky black hair before giving you a wave goodbye.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

“Get home safe, Minho.”

The door opens, then closes, and you exhale a sigh of relief, or frustration. Most likely equal parts both.

Perhaps baby steps would be the way to go. You haven’t even texted him, and you want him to make a move? Maybe he thinks you aren’t interested because you haven’t exactly been forward.

Sighing, you move towards your kitchen table, and then you freeze. The universe has never given you a second chance so pointedly before. 

Minho left his keys.

You reach for your phone, deciding that calling him would be faster than chasing after him, but stop halfway through your contacts once you hear him knocking on the door.

“It’s open!”

He steps inside to see you twirling the key ring around your index finger, and you hold it out for him to take as you walk up to the door.

“I didn’t take you as the forgetful type,” you giggle.

“Let’s just say I was distracted.” He slides the metal ring off your finger, and you know the dip his eyes make isn't a trick of the light.

He turns to leave, even opening the door, but when he takes a step out and turns to look back at you, something shifts in his eyes. Like a cat that’s seen something move in its periphery.

And in your mind, it all happens so unbearably slowly. 

He would step back in without a word, moving slowly and soundlessly as he’d break eye contact just to watch the door click shut. You’d find yourself backing into the wall next to him, hands pressed flat by your sides as you’d try to make sense of his approaching silhouette under the dim lighting. 

It would feel all too real, his hands sliding around to the small of your back, his chest pressing into yours, his breath fanning across your face. Your breath would catch in your throat, and the first touch of his lips would be cautious, before diving in with unrestrained desire.

You’ve imagined what it would be like to kiss Minho a million times, and with your ever-descriptive reveries, it almost feels real as you ponder the different ways he could pin you against this wall, mouth hard against yours, or light and teasing with feathery brushes of his lips.

God, you want him so bad it’s almost pathetic.

So bad, in fact, that once he lifts the corner of his lips in a smile and turns to leave for the night, it takes everything in you not to throw caution to the wind, and spin him back around. Find out what Lee Minho tastes like for yourself.

But you don’t.

You watch him walk down your hall until he leaves your sight, and even after you’re gone, you spend at least another minute replaying the few moments you had with him tonight.

Next time, you think, chewing your bottom lip as images of kissing Minho resurface against your will. 

I’ll do something about him next time.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ the patient in 206 ♡

♡ Pairing: patient!mingi x curvy!fem!reader

♡ Summary: You always keep it professional at work but, when an attractive new patient begins to push the boundaries, you find it difficult to resist his charm.

♡ Genre: fluff/suggestive

♡ Word Count: 1.8k

♡ Warnings: reader’s short so there’s references to how tiny she is, mingi puts his face in your boobs nonsexually. they're just comfy for him, mention of blood/anesthesia

♡ A/N: This is based on an idea @urlacuna threw into my asks. I hope I did a good job interpreting what you wanted into a fic!

Red licorice, if you eat enough of it, does a hell of a job mimicking internal bleeding. That’s why the patient in 202 is here today for a colonoscopy. Just to make sure. You know this because the husband of a patient is draped over the nurse’s station while you’re doing charts, huffing and puffing because he has to be here instead of presumably lounging on a couch wiping flaky orange Cheeto dust on the arm of his recliner. This is about as sexy as a job in nursing gets but it’s what pays the bills so you listen, partially anyway, fighting off the urge to throw what’s left of your watered down iced coffee onto his face. 

“Sir,” your coworker interrupts, her lack of patience for his bullshit obvious from the start, “Your wife’s asking for you. If you’ll go in and see her…” Before she can finish her sentence he’s stomping off, mumbling something to himself. She’s your favorite coworker for a reason. She takes a seat on your desk like you’re not in the middle of something. “I’d rather get two colonoscopies with no anesthesia than be married to that asshole,” she says louder than she should. You bury your face in your hands, muffled laughter escaping the spaces between your fingers, “You can’t say that!” 

She crosses her legs, thumbing through a patient’s file, “Like you weren’t thinking it. Anyway, I need you to take a patient for me.” “I’m already assigned room 205,” “Now you’re not” she declares, opening the folder to face you, the face sheet glowing like an ancient text in an adventure film. You see the name Song Min Gi. The picture, oh, the picture. “Remember him?” she asks. Remember? How couldn’t you? You’d been thinking of him ever since he came in last week. Not that you’d tell her that. Not that you need to. It’s painted all over your face the same way it was when you first saw him. 

Mingi came in with his best friend, Yunho you’re pretty sure his name was, to drop off some paperwork for his endoscopy. The other nurses swarmed the desk like moths to a flame, a sea of fluttering eyelashes and girlish laughter. It wasn’t often…or ever…that two tall handsome men sauntered into your job. And they weren’t just gorgeous. They were complete gentlemen, taking time to ask each of you about your day and making cute little jokes that eased some of the tension of such a high stress job.

As attractive as they both were, it was Mingi who had you wrapped around his finger from the moment he walked in. “We could climb him…” your mind whispered. The smile on his face whispered back that he might let you if you asked. “The little one” Mingi had called you, a suitable nickname with you being the shortest nurse on staff. 

“I like you, little one.” 

“Thank you, little one.” 

“See you soon, little one.”

The timbre of his voice echoed through your chest, the aftershock still felt when you returned home that night. You’d thought of him often since then, hoping that you’d see him again. You’d even peeked at when his endoscopy was scheduled for, excited to find out that you’d be on that day. Today. But you’d forgotten. Yesterday had been so chaotic that you rushed in this morning barely knowing which planet you were on, let alone the day.

Hair a mess. Makeup nowhere to be found. Mismatched socks on. At least your sneakers were on the right feet. You slam the folder closed, “I can’t. Look at me!” “Oh, stop it” your coworker shushes, brushing your hair back, “You look beautiful. Now go! 205 needs me and Mr. Song Min Gi needs you. Go, go, go!” She has you up from your chair, rushing you off with his file in your arms, quicker than you can register what’s happening. “Have fun!” she teases, shoving you into room 206 where Mingi lounges in the bed, his long legs stretched out.

He’s already loopy, you can tell by his low eyes and the blissful smile on his face. Yunho stands beside him, deep in conversation about something that becomes irrelevant when they see you. Mingi sits up, recklessly shifting his arms as if he doesn’t have an IV jabbed into one of them, “Little one!” “Oh my god, be careful” you gasp, scurrying to his side before he accidentally rips the IV from his arm. “So, are you my nurse now or did you just come to see me?” Both. The answer is ‘both’.

You dodge the question, “It looks like she got you all set up for me so let me just go check with the doctor and see if they’re ready to take you back. In the meantime, don’t injure yourself please.” Mingi winks at you, “Anything for you.” “You’re disgusting you know that?” Yunho groans, rolling his eyes, “Sorry about him. It’s the anesthesia kicking in.” You assure Yunho that it’s fine, slipping back out of the room under the watchful eye of Mingi who waves at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. When you return a few minutes later he’s already out cold.

“Be careful with him” Yunho warns, “He might try to, uh, force himself to wake up.” You aren’t worried. You’ve dealt with it before. Patients try to fight it off all the time. Eventually, they all succumb to it though. Even on the off chance that they do wake up the anesthesiologist has them drifting back off to dreamland in a millisecond. It’s almost annoying how cute Mingi manages to be, worthy of a full page spread in a magazine even in those dreadful blue tissue paper clothes they make patients wear.

Rolling him to a room not too far down the hall, you hand him over to the doctor and get back to your other duties. Checking on other patients, making sure they have their discharge papers, and shoveling some lunch into your mouth in between. You’re hiding in the office kitchen, cheeks packed with food and another fork full coming your way, when another nurse rushes in to grab you. “Y/N, room 206! He’s out of his mind!” You check your watch. Mingi? He should be out but he shouldn’t be awake yet.

No questions asked you race behind her to find his room full of nurses. Mingi’s up bouncing on the balls of his bare feet and…rapping? Your closest friend there, the matchmaker herself, scurries over to you, ushering you closer to Mingi. “We’ve been trying to get him to lay down but he won’t do it because he wants, uh, well…” “My wife!” Mingi shouts gleefully, long arms embracing you. His chin rests on the top of your head as the two of you sway back and forth. “Isn’t she cute?” he coos, petting your hair, “Mmm and she smells nice.” You pat him on the back, a mother soothing her agitated baby,

“You guys can head out. I’ve got him.” The room empties out except for Yunho who helps you seat Mingi safely on the edge of the bed, his arms still around you. Mingi sighs, resting his head on your chest, “Soft. Mmm. So soft.” He nuzzles his cheeks against your breasts and Yunho nearly chokes on air. “I’m so sorry. Mingi, stop it!” Mingi groans, shooing his best friend away, “We’re married. I can do what I want. Right, baby?” He looks up at you, his brown eyes are angelic under the fluorescent light, and you can’t bring yourself to disrupt his delusion.

“Right, you can do what you want but can you do something for me?” “Anything” he sighs, his nose buried in your cleavage as his hands traverse your curves. “Let’s lay down, okay? I’m a little tired.” You fake a yawn and he nods, easing you onto the bed with him. His face still in your chest, Mingi goes on telling you how much he loves you. He smiles at memories of how nice your honeymoon was. “It was nice, wasn’t it?” “The best.” This was far from what you expected coming in to work today but, in the back of your mind, you’re enjoying the affection, even if it is medically induced.

After a few minutes, Mingi drifts back off to sleep, giving you the chance to sneak away. The rest of the day goes on as normally as it can after something like that has happened. It’s not like you can tell anyone. You should just forget it. Maybe Mingi will. Yunho better let him. When you get the news that Mingi’s awake for a second time you beg another nurse to take him. You don’t even want to think about what might happen if he does remember and you’d rather not find out. 

Thankfully she takes over, allowing you to finish out your shift uneventfully. “See you tomorrow!” you shout over your shoulder, waving to your coworkers as they filter out behind you. You turn to check that the coast is clear before crossing the parking lot only to slam face first into a brick wall. You stumble backward, and strong hands grip your arms keeping you on your feet. A brick wall? Not a brick wall. Mingi’s chest. It’s your turn to look up at him now, his cheeks are tinted a strawberry red. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry…” 

“No, I’m sorry…for a lot of things apparently.” 

You glance behind him and see Yunho leaning against a car nearby. You wave to each other, the context of Mingi’s apology clear. “Look, I…” “Don’t worry about it. It happens.” Mingi narrows his eyes at you, skeptical of how often this actually happens. “Okay, it doesn’t happen” you relent, “But it’s really okay. I swear.” “I’m still sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m such an idiot. Clearly, that date I was gonna ask you on is out of the window.” “Date?” you shriek, clearing your throat to regain your composure, “I mean, date? You were gonna ask me on a date?” Mingi hangs his head, hands in his pockets, unable to meet your gaze. “I was but it’d be kinda weird now, wouldn’t it?” You stand up straight, arms folded across your chest, “Well you’ve gotta ask to know, don’t you?” “Oh, uh, does that mean that you’d…would you…date…with me?” “When?” “Now?” “Now?” “No?” “Fine. Let’s go. My car” you demand, strutting to your car with some newfound boldness overtaking you.

You aren’t sure if he’s even following you until you spot him out of the corner of your eye. Clutching your purse close to your chest you try to suppress how giddy you are then the panic sets in. A date? Looking like this? Unlocking the door, you throw your purse into the backseat, “I should probably go home and change into something cuter.” “Cuter?” Mingi asks, holding the door open for you, “You’re cute enough. Plus, you don’t have to impress me anymore. We’re married, remember?”

[solomon-revisited]

my copy has finally arrived... sixteen old songs from my earnest friends

THE CORONER'S GAMBIT LINER NOTES

TRANSCRIPT:

HE was a guy from California who'd fallen in love with a woman from Iowa. She was working at a water testing lab. They lived in a very small house whose pipes froze every winter. The landlord would come by and put space heaters under the sink. Years later, they retained the memory of the water coming back on - the sudden sound of the shower, the rush from the sink. They slept on a foam mattress in the bedroom in the summer, and on the couch in the living room in the winter, since the house did not have central heating, rendering the bedroom essentially uninhabitable from December through March.

They were not really the kind of people to plan things: they had fun when and where they could on an austere budget. The ice skates they bought used from Play It Again Sports made for fun Christmas mornings on West Indian Creek in Nevada, one town over from where they lived. He learned to cook, and to bake: they didn't go out to eat, because there really wasn't any place to go out and eat, though on occasion they would get a pizza from Casey's, because their town had a Casey's. Under the right circumstances a gas station pizza can be just the thing, and they sometimes found themselves in those circumstances.

He made music which was slowly reaching a wider audience. If he played in New York or Chicago as many as a hundred people might show up. He was idly entertaining the idea of becoming ambitious about it: as a child, he'd been pretty pretentious, and although he was working hard to shake most of that off, a little pretension isn't a bad thing in an artist. Just as a seasoning, as a little extra flavor here or there.

One summer he took a job as a harvest help at the Farmers Cooperative Exchange down the street from the very small house where the pipes froze in winter: getting the corn and soybeans into the grain elevator and into a big Morton building where the beans formed giant mountains, which he sometimes had to climb to knock down the peaks. If you don't knock down the peaks the beans get too hot and might rot. The job didn't pay much, and he wasn't good at it, but during slow stretches he would write song lyrics on scraps of paper or in a small notebook, and when he got home from work and washed off the crop dust, he'd set the lyrics to music. "Elijah" was written like this. So was "The Alphonse Mambo."

He took a Greyhound bus to Omaha to record some of the songs, so that the album would have a nice varied feel to it, but he got very sick, which is not an uncommon thing to have happen after a Greyhound ride, and only a few songs came out the way he wanted. He kept those, and then they got married and moved to Ames because the City of Colo had purchased their home from that landlord and intended to knock it down, which they did do, he affirmed years later: and in Ames he put the album together, and then later they moved to North Carolina and a whole lot of other things happened, too, but the main thing is that this album is a document of a time when two young people in love hadn't yet located the spot on the current that would carry them to their destination, twenty-five years later, parents of two beautiful children, worlds away from Colo, the place where, for better or worse, as the saying goes, all this really began.

Dedicated to my wife, Lalitree, and to the City of Colo, Iowa.

This is the original text of the paper bag that housed the first edition of this album. I am leaving it intact rather than revising it. Stage Bidet's moment comes ever closer: let the people tremble in fear.

Elijah, Baboon, Horseradish Road, Onions, and the Alphonse Mambo recorded in Omaha with Simon Joyner, Chris Deden, Lonnie Methe, Brad Smith, John Kotchen, Steve Micek, and Pat Oakes. All of them are owed money and are to be treated with deference and respect. Five of the remaining songs were recorded at Main St. in Colo, which is a small town in Iowa, and the rest were recorded two blocks north of Emma McCarthy Lee Park in Ames, which is a considerably larger town half and hour west of Colo. Though happy circumstances currently have the Mountain Goats claiming Ames, we continue to straight up represent Colo and will put the slap down on anyone who disrespects it. Transfer and levels by Bob Durkee at FBE in Pomona, California, with Joel Huschle attending. As a result of some regrettable but inevitable conversations that took place during the transfer, Bob, Joel, and the Mountain Goats have formed a new, super-powerful punk rock machine called Stage Bidet, and we urge you to watch for us and clear us a wide berth whenever we're in your town. Instead of thanking all the people I always thank to whom I say, collectively and with no less sincerity: thanks. I am just going to spend the time left us here addressing an absent friend. Rozz: I wish you hadn't've gone and killed yourself. Though I hadn't seen or spoken with you in eight years since that night when, as far as I can tell from the reports I was later able to piece together, you tried, not without reason, to strangle the life out of me out there on the landing of Damien's apartment and I probably never would have ever seen you again anyway, it was still hard to hear that you were gone. All your friends had been predicting your death since the early eighties, and no-one could bear the thought of you growing old, but none of that did anything to soften the blow when I heard. I don't really believe that the dead see or hear what we do out here in the realm of corruptible things and I don't imagine that the anyone reads the scribblings on the backs of album jackets to them, either, so I am really only addressing a memory. To that memory I say: I thought of you now and then when I was writing these songs. I don't suppose they'd do much for you, but I thought of you all the same. All your friends miss you in some way, a little or a lot. The rumors about your final hours are dismal and tawdry: I am sure they would please you immensely. For your sake, I hope that the Christians were wrong and that you were right about whether the faithless are destined for eternal torment. In the event that you are a ghost and are wandering the earth moaning and rattling chains, I moved to Iowa from California four or five years ago, stop by any time. Have a seat on the couch until I get home from work. Help yourself to anything in the refrigerator, or to the whiskey and sake on top of it. Make yourself right at home.

Album cover design by Tom Hart