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kisses4themissus · 4 days ago

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3's Obsessive || Hwang In-ho X Reader

wc: 2.9k

a/n: it's my birthday!!

!! warnings : mentions/flashback of assult, unaware of drugging !!

previous | masterlist

You sat quietly watching as your group talked back and fourth, mostly it was thanos and nam-gyu who filled the silence.

“Look at that asshole!” Thanos scoffed at another player, who peacefully ate with his group. You rolled your eyes at them, crumpling up the packaging from your food. “I’m looking right at him.” You smirked at your own joke. Se-mi let out a chuckle, min-su hid his smile while nam-gyu and thanos looked at you with upset expressions.

“That dickhead right there made me lose thousands to his scam.” Thanos pointed to player 333. You all followed thanos’ direction and watched the player absentmindedly talk and go about his day with his group members. “My therapist was scamming me..” You announced, making the others turn to face you.

“He tried to brainwash all his female clients into sleeping with him; said it was the only way their trauma would be gone…” You finished, swishing around the empty milk container.

Se-mi cursed under her breath as she looked away from you, “she has a shrink?” nam-gyu questioned before getting smacked by thanos.

“I had one, court ordered.” You nodded in confirmation, the others exchanged glances before scooting further from you.

- - - - - - - -

In-ho watched from the other side of the dorm as you talked with your team; he had hoped splitting you away from gi-hun would sent you into your creepy love spiral for him but was proven wrong as you stuck by the rapper’s side.

“Young-il, is everything alright?” Jun-hee asked, noticing his gaze stuck on the other side of the dorm. “I’m alright, is everything ok with you and the baby?” He smiled, the young girl nodded before moving her gaze towards you.

In-ho glanced over and watched as your team began to fix their bed together, sending you away to leave them alone for the night.

“Dae-ho said she’s sick?” Jun-hee questioned, her voiced lowering as you passed by, not looking over as you walked to your bunk in the middle of players. “Mentally sick.” In-ho clarified, jun-hee nodded before biting her lip. “How can you tell?” She asked, sitting on the steps beside him.

“The way she interacts with other players, you saw how quick gi-hun pissed her off, the night before she was his new limb.” He explained, watching as you got into your bunk and laid down, waiting for lights out.

“Now it’s just matter of time before she finds a new limb.” In-ho smirked as you pulled his note out of your pocket and read it over.

“Jun-hee, young-il, we need help putting the mats on the floor.” Jung-bae chimed in as he and dae-ho panted from moving the mats off one of the beds.

- - - - - - - -

The classic music filled the dorm as players began to wake up. You sighed, sitting up in your bunk. As you rubbed the sleep away you stopped as a voice came from beside your bed.

“Sleep well?” In-ho smiled at you, quickly you sat up and faced him.

“Another morning, stuck in these dorms and not with my love…” You scoffed, getting out of your bed and past in-ho who followed.

“He’s happy with how you're progressing in the games.” In-ho told you as you walked towards thanos and the others who were lined up by the side door. You stopped for a second before continuing to walk.

“That old man yapping again?” Thanos questioned as you joined the in line, pushing a player out of line to behind your group. “Talking about things he doesn’t know of.” You scoffed, before facing forward as you all began to be led up the stairs.

As you climbed the stairs, nam-gyu tapped your shoulder, making you whip around to glare. He held out a murky water bottle to you. “Take it, it’ll help during the game.” He motioned it to you, with a sigh you quickly drank the rest of the murky water and continued walking up the stairs.

- - - - - - - -

As you entered the colorful room, you shielded your eyes, your head had been dizzy. You had barely managed to get on the platform without falling, luckily another player had helped you step on.

“Did you drug me?” You questioned nam-gyu as he and thanos bounced around together, “why do you hear the voices louder?” Thanos snickered, making you scoff before holding your head as the platform began to spin and the lights flashed.

“I’m going to vomit!” You muttered, falling down as the platform stopped.

“Ten!”

As the words played in your head, you were quickly swept up by thanos and se-mi as you all ran with another group of five to a room. Once inside the timer ran out causing the door to lock. You all panted, the other players watched you with caution.

“Is she alright?” One of them asked, you placed your forehead on the colorful wall. “She has her period.” Thanos lied.

Thankful you were all let out soon after the round ended, you all walked to the platform once more. You held onto se-mi for support as the platform spun around once more. You groggily looked over and rolled your eyes as am-gyu and thanos danced as the children’s song played over the speaker before stopping.

“Four!” You all stared at each other, thanos quickly looked between you and min-su. You quirked a brow, thanos sighed, “I’ll split.” You told them before being grabbed by two players. “We need one more!”

As the timer went low, you began to panic. In-ho quickly rushed over. “Blue door, 24!” He called out as you all ran and made it in time. You panted and rested your forehead against the colorful wall. In-ho watched as you shakily raised your hand to feel your temperature.

“Are you alright miss?” A player asked, noticing your sleepiness, in-ho knew something was wrong, you had slept soundly through the night, He knelt down beside you and took your head in his hands and examined over you.

“You took meds?” He questioned, noticing your pupils. You shook your head and scoffed softly. “Nam-gyu gave me a roofied drink…” You realized, laying your head back on the wall. In-ho glanced up at the camera and gave a signal to keep watch on you.

Once the doors unlocked, you managed to walk to your group, se-mi catching you as you both bumped each other. “Are you ok?” She questioned, looking over you.

Without responding you tried to shake off the sleep and tried focusing on the game ahead. The players had loaded on and the platform spun once more. “Three!” the cheery voiced announced.

You all stared at each other, nam-gyu and thanos panicked, commanding you and the others to fight for a spot. You watched as min-su betrayed se-mi and took off with thanos and nam-gyu.

“I’ll be with you!” You suggested, making her nod. As you both watched players run past you groaned, the dizziness getting worse. Se-mi looked at you with sympathy; As you both went to stick together, a pair grabbed se-mi leaving you dazed and alone on the floor.

You sighed, maybe this was your fate, to die. Maybe frontman would keep your corpse. As you stood alone on the floor two hands wrapped around your arms and dragged you to a room.

You glanced up once in a room and sighed. Gi-hun and in-ho had saved you. You sighed and laid peacefully on the ground. “Is she ok?” Gi-hun asked, kneeling down next you. In-ho sighed and nodded. “Her teammates roofied her just before the game, probably to get rid of her.” He explained, taking off his jacket and propped up your head.

“Think the workers would help her?” Gi-hun asked, looking over to the peek in the door. “I don’t see why not.” In-ho shrugged, you quickly shook your head and sat up.

“I want to finished the game, then tell those pink workers I got fucked over!” You sighed, keeping your eyes closed before opening them to stare at the two men. They both sighed, helping you up as the doors unlocked. Stepping out you looked around and walked away from in-ho and gi-hun; you watched over the crowds of player and stopped as se-mi walked up to you.

“How are you feeling now?” She questioned, wrapping your arm around her neck to help hold your weight. “Like i took all the pills in the world!” You sighed, you both walked back to the platform. “Once the game is over we’ll get help, go it? I don’t need a player who’s dead weight.” She scolded, making you nod.

In-ho watched as your teammate kept you up right as the platform went around. You both stumbled a bit and ran to a room as the number was announced. “Six!”

You looked to your left and stopped as thanos and the others rushed over with an extra player. Se-mi tugged your hand to get your attention. You looked over to see gi-hun and his team rushing over to the same room. “Ladies first.” Thanos grinned and held out his hand.

You quickly noticed the small distance from gi-hun’s team to where you stood. You looked at thanos and scoffed. “Drugging me to sleep with you is lame!” You sneered before kicking thanos in his thigh, making him fall back into nam-gyu.

With quick movements you grabbed in-ho’s jacket as he entered the room and pulled yourself and se-mi into the room, quickly holding the door shut as the timer went down. With a sigh you let go of the door as the lock clicked in place.

“My lungs are burning!” You chuckled to se-mi, throwing your head back.

Se-mi turned to the others and bowed her head, “thank you for joining us in time.” she thanked, making you scoff lightly. “Oh please, number one has been practical up my ass the whole game!” You muttered, earning a sharp look from in-ho.

“She’s drugged up, she doesn’t mean it…” She tried to excuse you but gi-hun raised his hand and shook his head. “It’s alright, just glad you both made it through.” He sighed, making his way over to peek through the small crack and watched as players dropped.

Jung-bae and se-mi joined him, the three taking turns to look.

You stared down in-ho as the others paid no mind to you both. You noticed the glint of glee in his eyes, while in-ho pushed down his contentment as you slowly pieced everything together. As you both analyzed one another, se-mi quickly walked over with jung-bae the pair helped you up.

“I think i’m fine to walk on my own now..” You tore your eyes away from in-ho and walked behind gi-hun. He stopped in front of the platform and began looking around for his other teammates.

Once they all gathered with another group, you all loaded onto the platform. You all waited as the platform began to move, jung-bae leaned over to gi-hun asking what he thought the next number would be since it was the last round, in-ho had answered blankly.

“Two.”

“Why do you say that?” Jung-bae asked, a worried look on his face. You sighed and pointed to the sign above the entry where you all had entered, “There’s only fifty doors, and 126 players left, it’s gonna be a bloodbath.” You pointed out, everyone shared worried looks. Before anything could be said the platform stopped. “Two!”

You turned to find se-mi but was pulled away, by in-ho who dragged you to a room, leaving the others to fend for themselves. As you both approached the room you were pulled back by a player, in-ho quickly turned back when he felt your hand slip from his.

As you pulled away, in-ho had landed a punch on the man’s jaw, sending man to the ground in pain. You quickly grabbed in-ho’s hand and ran to the nearest door. As you went to open it, a smaller man tried to pulled the door shut, you quickly rammed yourself and in-ho in the room, letting the door shut behind you.

“Out!” You snapped at the man, who shook his head at you and in-ho.

“We were here first!” He tried to protest, your eyes glanced up at the timer, you circled the man, a terrifying look in your eyes.

In-ho watched, interested as you quickly got behind the man and wrapped your arm around his neck tightly, ignoring as he tried to scratch your arm with his jagged nails. The door opened slightly, in-ho quickly threw his weight against the door and watched as you pulled the man to the floor.

The man hit the walls and floor in a panic as his vision got dark. You leaned over in his ear “Shhh, night night.” You whispered to the man, who looked at you with panic as you smirked at him before twisting his neck hard.

A loud crack filled the room as the timer went off and gunshots went off outside.

In-ho watched with awe as you stared at him with a murderous glint.

You quickly got up from the floor, releasing the man’s body. A sigh left your lips as you sat on the wall opposite of in-ho and looked down at your blood splattered shoes.

“How do you know of my letters to him?” You questioned, making in-ho quirk a brow at you. “Who?” He played innocent, making you chuckle. “Frontman.” You motioned to the small camera in the corner of the room. He nodded and sighed, fixing his jacket.

“It’s not everyday you receive letters from a mental ward patient.” He chuckled, pacing the wall.

“He saved you many years ago, from college kids taking advantage of you.” He sighed, you looked at him with an unreadable expression. “You begged those kids not to beat you to a pulp, you were so lost, shaking on the ground as those gunshots killed those students.”

You poked your cheek with your tongue as the memories had rushed back, your freshmen year of Uni.

You had cruelly been invited to a bar to hangout with your classmates, you went excited to be included in their group, the all had lead you behind the dingy bar for a smoke break.

It all happened so fast, one moment you had been flirting with one of the older boys the next you were crying with a bloody lip as he laughed above you. “Stop it! I’ll give you all my money! I’ll drop out! Anything!” You begged as one of the boys took out his cigarette and knelt down beside your head.

As he brought the cigar closer to burn it out on your face a gruff voice made them all jump. “What are you all doing?” A man dressed in a black coat and a mask over his face spoke up. “Nothing sir, nothing at all! Just joking around with our friend!” One of the “golden” boys tried to reassure the older man and stepped closer trying to appear innocent.

Without hesitant the masked man slammed the boy into the bar’s dingy brick wall. You had laid on the ground sobbing, not caring as your classmates were picked off, gunshots made you raised your hands to cover your ears. As you cried, a hand on your shoulder made you flinch.

“No, please no!” You sobbed, the man sighed and jerked you to face him. His gloved hands peeled your shaky ones away from your face, you nervously looked at the masked man.

“Don’t hurt me..” You begged.

He didn’t respond, you watched tearfully as he ran a finger on your busted lip and tsked. “You need to see a doctor before it’s infected.” He spoke softly to you.

As you took his words in, you looked around the alleyway and felt your chest tighten up as the bodies on your classmates were scattered around you both. “I’m sorry.” He whispered in your ear. Before you could question what happened your vision darkened.

The next day you had woken up in your apartment, your lip bandaged up appropriately. You quickly looked over your apartment for signs of the masked man, only finding a memorial site card. You had gone to the police and tried explaining everything but the only claim you as crazy.

At school you had grown weary; once your school had found out the students were claimed missing you were pinned the suspect; your parents hired the best lawyer they could with their wages.

The stupid lawyer deemed it fit to convince your family, you had been assaulted and went insane, making you plead insanity; the judge had ordered you to be in a mental ward for a minimum of four years and once released you were to see a therapist for years to come.

Luckily while away you had figured out more about the man, the memorial card must’ve fallen out of his pocket. After months of searching each site you had found one, the lady’s flowers wilted, a cut picture of her and her husband, you had recognized the coat. While in the ward you had researched for a coat like it and found nothing, meaning it was a one of a kind; like the owner.

His face had been torn out, since that day you’d leave his wife flowers on her birthday, her death date. Thankfully it lead to finding the space he had rented above a shop. You could never visit due to the grouchy landlord. You always stood outside of his office, hoping to catch a glimpse but never did. You knew he had been there all the letters you had sent were never in the mailbox. Everyone thought you had gone insane; imaging a hero who saved you when you had “killed” your innocent classmates.

“You’re him.” You realized as you stared up at in-ho, who stopped pacing, his back to you.

“I’d never hurt you.” He confessed; sending flutters to your heart at his words.

obsessive taglist: @eminems4ev3rgirl @lanyia @lucinda-reads @skull-centric @watasinekoru @kyxmlii @carolinevoight @enhasrii @axionn @colorwastaken @syraxnyra @starkeyszn @strawberrychita @illuzold @itosh1teru @l4venderia @leechaniie @tashiagalinda @wisedinosaurwasteland @kiwiikato @aphoenixnamed-angel @captaincarmel416 @lover-girl009 @player279achlys @fallout-girl219 @thesehandsarerated-e @bluechaoslizzy

general in-ho taglist: @menabuser16 @snowtargaryen @azusdump @jspidey5 @annasnape7 @macnbriee @ookybatt @sasha-swftie @moonxnite @ninglovr

#frontman x reader #hwang inho x reader #player 001 x reader #young il x reader #in ho x reader #frontman x you #squid game x reader #squid game x you #hwang inho #lee byung hun x reader

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zvdvdlvr · 9 months ago

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— The Line.

— Synopsis. Frank’s A-Okay with being anything you want him to be.

— Warnings. Smut. Oral sex (female recipient). Fuck buddies? Idk.

Your relationship with Frank was- quite frankly- a situation. He’d call you if he needed sex or someone to dick around with at the bar, to go beat up some scumbags that didn’t deserve the breath in their lungs or have a conversation.

Frank tried to keep his feelings out of the mix, choosing to straddle the line between fuck buddies and something more.

Liquor blurred the line.

Cum drenched Frank’s face as you ground down on his awaiting mouth. Your clit brushed deliciously over Frank’s broken nose, making a broken moan slip through your lips. Sharp pain flared from Frank’s scalp as you tugged his head, pussy overstimulated from the constant assult from Frank’s magical fucking tongue.

“Shit, Frankie,” you warbled, leaning your forhead on the cool wall in front of you, letting Frank guide your hips. “Might make me pass out.”

Frank grumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘won’t keep me from this cunt’. His wide hands gripped the flesh of your ass with a bruising force. “One more, y/n. Gimme another one, girl,” he rasped, lapping at your folds as if he hadn’t been eating you out like a man starved for the past half hour.

As much as you wanted to whine, tears streamed down your face as you let Frank lead you to yet another orgasm. The coil built and twisted in your gut, molten list solidifying as Frank made it his personal goal to make you cum. Again.

“Oh fuck, Frank, fuck. I’m cumming, don’t stop,” you repeated breathlessly. That egged Frank on, pulling you even further into him, clit harshly grinding on Frank’s misshapen nose. “Fuck, right there, Frankie!”

Frank hummed and let your hips buck on his face, letting you ride out your orgasm. “Atta girl,” he murmured. “Knew you had another for me.”

As Frank collected your melted limbs and layed you next to him, he watched your nipples disappear and reappear through the thin material of Frank’s shirt as your chest heaved. “You alrigh’?”

“Mm,” you replied, a shaky hand raising to pat down the sweat-soaked baby hair.

Your eyes fluttered shut. Frank took the opportunity to shift his cum-soaked boxers. You looked amazing post orgasm, face slack and cheeks flushed. Even the cheap neon light from a bar down the street made you look like Frank could part your thighs once more. “Still got my shit here?” Frank asked, thumb brushing a lone tear from your cheek.

“You know it,” you replied. Frank felt your hooded eyes follow his movement. He slipped out of your bed and ambled over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweats in his size. After slipping out of his boxers and brushing his teeth and cleaning up, he pulled on the oversized pants and brought a washcloth with warm water to clean you up since Frank knew you didn’t want to get up.

After removing the towel and discarding the washcloth, Frank crawled over you and kissed you. His tongue tasted like you. Your opened your mouth to him, letting your tongue dance with his. Whiskey tainted your breath, mixing with the taste of your cum- something disgusting and gross that Frank wanted to taste forever.

He was playing a dangerous game and he knew it: letting you have your way with him and acting like a couple for a night before going back to acquaintances as if nothing had happened. Frank’s hand tangled in your hair as you wrapped a leg around his waist. A groan- yours?- filled the air as Frank pressed his hips into your core. “Goddamnit, girl. Y’gotta tell me what you want,” Frank muttered between kisses, letting you run a hand down his scarred chest.

“You, Frank. Always you.”

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 1 year ago

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I Want It All: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.

Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.

And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!

Word Count: 5.2K

You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?

For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.

No tears came to you. What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.

Still, it ached. There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes. You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.

All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.

With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.

You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them. Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.

“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.

You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.

“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”

He let out a small yelp of pain.

You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.

You frowned. Did she just kick him?

“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.

“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.

You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” you asked.

“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.

Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you. Yes, of course they would.

“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”

You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.

“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”

“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.

“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”

“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”

Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.

“It wasn’t like that.”

A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”

The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.

Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.

The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.

Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”

He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.

“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered.

Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”

You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Anytime.”

“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”

You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes. No doubt he had heard everything.

Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you.

Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry.

“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.”

Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it.

Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs.

If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air.

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

The next several days carried on in much the same way. Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences.

In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut.

The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile.

You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another.

Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice.

Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated.

Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side.

This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent.

The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience.

All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship. If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more.

The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp. He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do.

You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow.

This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse.

You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent.

You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.

A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.

You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?

A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.

His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything.

You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.

“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.

He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.

“I’ve had better,” he finally said.

You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands.

“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”

He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff.

“Is this yours?” he asked.

You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”

His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious.

“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders.

“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.”

Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank.

The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth.

The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this.

“Do you need more?” you asked.

This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes.

“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.”

Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist.

“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand.

“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”

Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.

He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?”

“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad.

“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.”

You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.

“Drink this.”

You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”

“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.”

A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion.

Without further protest you accepted the potion.

This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve.

He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional.

This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give.

Any nerves that remained slipped away. You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past.

Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had.

“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”

A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin.

“Oh?”

He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”

You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much.

“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”

He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.

“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”

He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light.

Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”

“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.”

You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”

“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.

“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.”

He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you.

Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”

“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”

His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.”

Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure.

Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers.

“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”

Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.

“Pink,” Astarion blurted.

Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.

“And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.”

You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning.

“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.

He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”

You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle.

“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”

“Yes.”

Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward.

Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”

“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”

You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide.

“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”

Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.

“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.”

He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control.

“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”

Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful.

“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”

You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul.

It was true, all of it.

By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”

You averted your gaze. It was answer enough.

“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.”

You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time.

“Do you even want to have sex with me?”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”

“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff.

“Well?” you prompted.

He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.

“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else. Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”

You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind. Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury. He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him. You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment.

“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly.

To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face.

“I thought I’d made that obvious.”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate.

“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.”

The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable.

Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much.

In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.

He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water.

“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm.

Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist.

“Are you alright?”

He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”

“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”

He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest.

“Does it hurt?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”

You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help.

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”

“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.”

A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”

Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh.

“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked.

“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.”

He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow.

You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own.

He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced.

It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.

Tag List:

@ambrolyer, @cassiecasluciluce, @tamwritesstuff, @hallowedandhungry, @mangomonk, @amefuyuu, @righteous-scamp, @starved-kitten, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @twinkliker3000, @unrestrictedbyreality, @screechingphantommaker, @becksynthetic, @black-sapphic, @dicenete, @isharaneith, @sarcasticlittlebook, @catsandskyrimcafe, @sora-o-kaku, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ka-du-trur, @baldursgateslittlestar, @rakilein

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #asexual #asexual!reader #asexual!tav #bard!tav #baldur's gate iii #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

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oh-no-its-bird · 3 months ago

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Someone ( @ohai-there ) asked me if I had any thoughts ab mdtb weeks "cultural differences" prompt, so, like, take just the copy pasted reply I gave them (+ some extra) :

I was up all night drawing birthday art and am this 👌 close to blacking out for x amount of hours so this risks being nonsensical fair warning

Uhhh culture shock my beloved, let's seee

Easy answer is the senju are very touchy feely, easily and willingly sleeps around (they face a lot less risk of bloodline theft due to rarity of the mokuton so there isn't as much ingrained cultural fear of being assulted/facing the baby shaped consequences of sleeping around willy nilly)

They can take multiple spouses and it's actually rare for the head of house to have only one wife (Hashirama is an exception bc Mito is a Princess(tm) and so to take another wife would risk offending her own clan culture, he is fine with this and they possibly often take others to bed with them just for funzies (potential hashimitoizu noises(?)))

Uhh anyways so that, they're super liberal with touch, etc. Etc.

Also they don't really do crazy deep romance and are super used to casual no strings attached flings, you have to make yourself VERY clear in what you're doing if you want to actually start a fr relationship bc otherwise many "courtship" behaviors are just like. Casual, culturally acceptable flirting and invitations to bang (the senju have a 101 different ways to proposition eachother in flower language alone.)

Meanwhile the Uchiha are on the total opposite side of the spectrum— they're like super conservative (In contrast to the Senju not having an ingrained fear of bloodline hunters, their very valuable and very vulnerable kekkei genkkei makes them prime victims, which has lead them having generations of trauma fueled insane abstinence lessons)

+ They're a noble clan and regularly interact with the Daimyo's court, so there's even more etiquette culture ingrained into them so they can send anyone into court if needed (While the Senju, who are NOT a noble clan, only ever send their main house, and so only they have to even worry about court etiquette)

They do not believe in divorce, they do not believe in political marriages (tho they do happen very very rarely, it's seen as very sad and tragic when it does) they... sometimes believe in multiple spouses, in specific situations (they can't regularly interact w the daimyo's court and not have to face it as a concept, after all)

So like. Super up tight, hella rules about how to show affection and proper ways to conduct yourselves, months long courting rituals before u even get to kissing, to sleep together before marriage is SINFUL

But they're ALSO super fucking romantic and absolutely insane about having soulmates and one true loves and are just super intense ab all that romance stuff where the senju are super relaxed in it

I think u see where this is going

Anyways uhhh

They make a village and there's tons of culture shock

Then Tobirama, being Tobirama (standoffish and cold, not especially interested in the usual wild Senju sex parties or whatever tf kind of events they're hosting in the gardens) is like, among the most "normal" to the Uchiha (from a cultural standpoint)

And bc of that, Madara maybe interacts w him more like "well he's kind of awful but at least he's not a sex FREAK like the rest of these Senju WHORES"

Umm Madara tries to court Tobirama but Tobirama sees it as him only trying to bang (?)

Which he possibly doesn't even want to do

Tobirama is like "Ah man, if only he were interested in actual courtship, but he has only given me the Senju flowers of "I wish to ravish you in the fields" and not the senju flowers of "I am potentially interest in maybe going on a date" (a proposition that a)he received not too infrequently, and so was not odd, and b) he politely rejected by accepting the flowers then showing Madara that he had planted it in red soil)

Meanwhile, Madara is like. "Wow this courtship is going so great he's accepting all my Uchiha flowers of pure devotion and innocent love in bloom"

Just in general, their clans having different flower meanings could be funny actually. The Uchiha regularly interact with court so I think they'd have to have, like, "normal" flower meanings (or else theres be some implications there of how theye gotten so far while using incorrect flower meanings in genuinely important events) so that means its the Senju who have odd meanings for flowers-- which also works, bc, like, mokuton

however many years ago, a previous descendant with mokuton told his clansmen the ""real"" meaning of these flowers,,, u wouldnt get it,,,

Another fun route could be, like, the Uchiha method of declaring ones intentions to court someone also happens to be the Senju's method of declaring a feud.

Madara tries to flirt with Tobirama only for Tobirama to understand this as Madara telling him to his face that the peace may be ongoing but he'll always hate his bitch ass !!!

#tbmd #mdtb #naruto #tobirama senju #senju tobirama #uchiha madara #madara uchha #tobimada #madatobi #birds fic talk #madatobiweek2024 #senju clan lore #senju clan

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fangirlstorycreator · 1 month ago

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Alastor X Reader

Context: Alastor saves you, and you both, surprisingly grow closer. When you defend him from an old aquatence of his, Alastor's fondness for you grows. But when you find yourself in danger, Alastor will stop at nothing to get you back, especially when your in the hands of one of his enemies...

Contains: Asexual Alastor, Asexual Reader, but romance is involved, swearing, mentions of injuries, kidnap, attempted sexual assult, hypnosis, Not for minors

P.S. Anytime you see writing in red, that is when Alastor is speaking with his static demonic radio voice

Part 1/4

Fire, death, destruction, this was your world now, or to be specific, the world you spent your afterlife in. You died a few years ago, and had managed to hide from previous exterminations in the past, but not this one. It seemed to get harder and harder to hide each time the angel's came, as if their numbers grew over night, and it terrified you. Even overlords weren't always safe in hell, so your chances were even slimmer. This recent extermination was the one that ruined you, both mentally and physically. Running through the streets, you were desperate to escape the angel's from above, but one managed to throw a spear right at you, plunging straight through your back and out the other side. It was the most excruciating pain you had ever felt, it burned and ached. Falling to your knees, looking at this angelic spear that had plunged through you, it was bleeding profusely, you mentally begged for this pain to stop. The sound of stupid laughter is heard from above, as this angel flies over you, but not before you see who it is. The absolute douchbag who laughed at you, was none other than Adam. He took joy in killing sinners, and smiled evily at you before flying away, back up to the entrance to heaven with the other angel's. You were in so much pain, maybe if you could take out the spear, it would help? Wrapping your shaking fingers around the spear, you try your best to pull it out through your body. Something like this can emotionally traumatise a person, even when their dead, but you had to keep going. Screaming in agony as you pulled and pulled, finally it came out, as you shook all over. The spear had left a small hole from your back to the front, right were your appendix would be. Falling to the floor, clutching your wound, and scared for what will happen next, terrified that you would die again, and this time, there would be nothing, just fade into darkness and never see anything again. Your vision blurs, feeling weaker by the second. You just about manage to stand up, but fail and fall against the side of the building. Tears filled your eyes, the pain was so bad that you wished it would stop, but this was hell, it's not like anyone would help you. But....to your suprise, still clutching onto consciousness, you hear voices, worried yet chirpy. How strange? All you can see are blurry colours from a long distance, but it looked like a blonde girl dressed in red, she was kneeling down to bodies. And beside her, stood a tall man, dressed entirely in red, and he was holding some kind of large stick? You just about manage to hear what they say, but it was more like fuzzy background noise.

"No, they're gone too. Come on Alastor, we need to search this area together. Please, go and look to see if there's anyone who we can help"

"Hm. Very well"

Still struggling with your vision, you see the tall man walk in your direction, looking at the bodies around you, but they were all dead. That was strange? It looked like he was smiling? Who would be smiling when this has happened? He was just a few feet from you now, when he happened to glance over, seeing you clutching your wound, struggling to breathe and keep conscious, clearly in a lot of pain.

"Oho! It seems I have found one"

He walks straight to you, kneeling in close, looking at you more clearly.

"Oh my, it seems you've really been put through the wringer my dear. My! That is one impressive injury you have there, I'm suprised your still alive. Do tell me, what is your name?"

Even with your wimpers of pain, you try your best to tell him what happened, but unfortunately, the last thing you see is his beaming smile, before passing out right against the wall.

"Hm, what a shame. The poor young lady must be suffering quite a bit. Oh Charlie! I believe we have one!"

"What?! There's someone we can help?!"

She asks running over, seeing your unconscious body, and gasping in worry.

"Yes. She is suffering from a rather nasty looking injury. I wonder if it's even possible to help her?"

"Of course we can Alastor! Right, she's still alive, can you take her?"

"Why of course my dear"

He leans down and picks you up, bridal style. You seem to weight barely anything when he holds you, even in your unconscious state.

"Alright, let's get her back to the hotel. Me and Vaggie can heal her, well, I hope"

"Do lead the way my dear. Hm...she is loosing rather a lot of blood, and it's going on my suit. It would seem I need another trip to the tailor"

Later, you regain consciousness in a new place, very unknown to you. The room is very nice, which was weird for hell, the bed you were lying in was comfy, and your injury was-oh! It was all bandaged up! That was a very big suprise. Your body felt so weird, but you still managed to sit up and slowly swing your legs over the side of the bed. You winced and grabbed yourself when your movement caused a sudden pain from your bandage. Eyes clamping shut when you tried your hardest not to shout out loud at how bad it was. You exhale, trying to keep calm, breathing away the pain with slow steady breaths. Wiping a bead of sweat from your brow, the sound of someone walking towards the door distracted you just a little from your pain. They swung it open, and in walks a young woman, wait...she was the woman you saw on the street.

"Hi! I'm Charlie! Sorry to just barge in, I hoped you'd be awake, and you are! Oh, sweetie, you shouldn't be getting out of bed like that. Hear, let me help you get comfortable"

This woman was so happy, chirpy, you hadn't seen anyone in hell like that before. She helped you sit up against your bed, and tucked the quilt back around your waist and legs.

"Is there anything I can get you? Maybe something to drink?"

"Where am I?"

"Oh! Shoot! I'm so sorry, I really should have explained. Ok, sooo I'm Charlie! The princess of hell! And this place is my hotel. Me and one of my friends were out looking for anyone who needed help after the extermination, and that's where we found you! You got hurt really bad, but we did the best we could. Hopefully it won't be too long before your all better, you just need to rest"

"But...my wound...the angelic weapon...it went straight through me"

"Yes! But, your technically dead. So injuries down hear are easier to fix, which is a good thing! Kinda...but your ok now, and your welcome to stay hear as long as you like"

"Uh...thanks. That's very kind of you"

"Ah, don't mention it. I was loosing all hope on helping anyone until Alastor saw you"

"Who's Alastor?"

And as if by magic, this dark shadow manifests itself in the corner of the doorway, only to turn into the tall red man you remember, the man with the smile.

"My my, are my ears burning?"

"Ah! There you are Alastor, good news! She's awake!"

"Ah yes, I see you have woken up in much more comfort than when I first saw you. Tell me my dear, how are you feeling?"

Why did he ask with suck a big smile? Even when he walked a little closer and stood beside Charlie at the end of the bed, it was strange.

"Uh...fine...I guess"

"Fine? Oh no no my dear, if you are going to be a guest hear, you need comfort above all else. Is there anything I can provide to help you feel better?"

"It's uh...I am comfortable, I'm fine. I just....don't feel right"

You say holding your waist and looking down on it with worry.

"Ah, I see. Well worry not my dear, your pain shall not be an issue for much longer. And you are healing surprisingly quick for a sinner. I am rather impressed..."

"Alastor's right, your doing great so far. Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't even ask what your name was"

"...Y/N..."

"Aww! Such a nice name! Right Alastor?"

He leaned over, taking your hand and delicately placed a single kiss to your knuckles.

"A beautiful name, for a beautiful young woman"

Well...ok...he certainly knows how to act all charming. But before you could thank him for the compliment, there was a loud crash that sounded like it was coming from downstairs. Along with two voices, arguing about something.

"Oh, for satan's sake. It sounds like Angel and Husk are arguing again. If you two young ladies would excuse me for a moment, I must stop those two imbesils from causing such a ruckus"

He left you and Charlie alone, but that was ok, they both seemed like ok people, and Charlie certainly seemed very excited to have you hear.

"Ok, so that kind of thing wiiiilllll happen from time to time, not everyone is best buddies hear. But I promise, we'll take care of you"

"Thank you Charlie, that's very sweet of you. Um, quick question"

"Yes, anything!"

"That guy, Alastor. Why does he always smile?"

"You know what? I'm not sure. He did say something about his smile when we first met, but I can't remember, that was a...a long...LONG day....But he's hear to help me and the hotel. And anyone who stays hear, like you!"

"Ok....is he...always that charming with people?"

"Yeh, that's kinda his personality, you'll get used to it. I will say this though, I think he might enjoy your company more than he let's on"

"Why would you say that? He's only spoken to me twice. And one of those times I was barely conscious"

"Yes, that's true. But I've known Alastor for just a little longer than you, I've seen how he behaves around everyone. Men, he's not really a fan of, women, he tolerates more, heck! Even once or twice he gave me a slight shoulder hug! But in regards with physical contact, Alastor isn't a fan of it, at all. I'm not sure why. But what I do know, is that since meeting Alastor, your the only one he's kissed"

"I'm sorry, kissed?!"

"Your hand, remember? When you told him your name. He held your hand and kissed it"

"Oh yeh..he did..."

"Plus, when you were out and we healed you up, he spoke about how impressed he was with your recovery time, and that you were strong enough to survive such a bad injury from an angelic weapon for so long"

"I didn't think an overlord would be impressed with a sinner"

"Yeh, and he didn't even complain about carrying you all the way back to the hotel! Well, only about his suit that had blood on it, but-"

"He? He carried me?"

"Yeh! He said you weighted no more than a dried leaf, isn't that sweet? Ok, enough about Alasor for the moment, I know your still hurting, but when your better, I'd love to introduce you to everyone else in the hotel! If your alright with that?"

"It depends, are they gunna stab me like that asshole of an angel, Adam did?"

"Oh no, noone will do that. Maybe I should take that needle from Nift-wait wait wait WAIT! You said...you said Adam?!"

"Yeh? Why are you so shocked?"

"I'm, I'm not shocked, so to say. Just, uugghh! I'm annoyed! That guy shouldn't be leading his angels down hear, and hurting people like you. I've uh, I've not long had a meeting with him about the extermination, and he was so rude to me. But hearing that he did that to you, you had it even worse"

"Yeh, well, him and his angels are gone for now, at least"

"Yeh yeh your right"

You and Charlie continue to talk and get to know another before she let's you get your rest. And in a nice suprise, your injury does actually get a lot better at a very quick rate. Turns out being dead, means that the body can heal a lot quicker than when you were alive. True to her word, Charlie did introduce you to the rest of the hotel, and you got to know them all and what they were like. You didn't see much of Alastor, but he was around, maybe you said hello to him in the hall once or twice. You wanted to talk to him, thank him for his help in getting you hear, but unless is was a management issue with the hotel, he didn't speak to or hang around with many people at all. One late evening, Charlie had shown you some books in the hotel library, and you had been sat quite comfortably in the hotel lobby, reading with no distractions. It was quite nice to just sit and read, especially now that your wound was nicely healed. It didn't hurt to bend down or do things around the hotel, and you were happy about that, and actually enjoyed most of your time hear. With being so drawn in by your book, you never noticed someone approaching you, and it wasn't until he sat beside you on the sofa, that your mind finaly came back to reality.

"Hey there sug'ah...."

"Oh. Hi Angel"

He starts acting playfull, and slightly flirty, running his finger over the spine of your book.

"What'cha readin?"

"It's one of my old favourites from when I was alive. It's called, An Inspector Calls"

"Ooooh! Is it dirty?..."

"Uh? No, it's not dirty. It's about an inspector who investigates a family, who all mysteriously and unknowingly have some part to play in a womans death"

"Eh, sounds kinda borin. Anyone get banged in there?"

"Banged? As in banged up? Thrown in jail?"

"Nah toots! Like does anyone get fucked!"

"Uhhh....no Angel...it's not that kind of story. It's more a murder mystery"

"Oh come on toots, yah can't find that shit enjoyable? Can yah?"

"Of course I do"

"Eh, well it ain't my style. Say? How come yah don't read anythin dirty? And I nev'ah seen yah bring any guys back to the hotel, or girls, or both!"

"Well.....you said these kinds of books aren't your style...For me....dirty stuff....and 'bringing people back' just isn't my thing"

"..........Huh?! What do yah mean, ain't your thing?! Y/N have you seen yourself?! Your smokin hot! You must've had hundreds of guys want yah when you came down hear! And if this is you when your dead, you must've been even hotter when you was alive"

"That's a very nice thing to say Angel, but like I said, that just wasn't my thing"

"Oh man, that's a real shame. Your fuckin gorgeous"

"Thank you Angel, that's sweet"

You continue to read your book, but Angel just can't seem to take his eyes off you, or your fingers turning the page.

"Yah know.....I work in the...pleasure industry..."

"Your a porn star Angel"

"Same thing! But yah know......I spend most of my days....making people feel all kinds of sexual pleasure.....I make people feel good....really good"

"That's nice Angel, but i'm trying to read hear"

"I know baby...(he takes your book and dangles it above his head) but maybe you need a little break, eh? You know what I think? I just think you ain't had a guy really show yah how good it feels in the bedroom...I could make yah feel....so...so good"

"Angel, I've told you, that just isn't something I'm into. Now please give me my book back"

"Come and get in baby...but you gotta kiss me to reach close enough-"

Suddenly, and without warning, a dark shadow mass manifests behind Angel, taking the book from his hand and throwing it at his head.

"Ow! What the fuck?! Who the fuck did that?!"

That shadow morfs into nonother, than Alastor. He chuckled when he saw Angel rubbing the sore spot on his head.

"God damn it Al! Why'd yah do that?"

"I am quite certain the lady told you she did not want to be persued for any...relations...this was your own doing"

"I was only playin with her"

"And she made it clear she did not want to 'play'. Now, why don't you go find an ice pack for that head of yours, hm? It seems to be swelling, rather exponentially as we speak"

"You'se a fuckin asshole Alastor"

Angel muttered some more rude words about Alastor as he left to go to his room. Alastor on the other hand sat beside you and handed you the book.

"Hear you are my dear. I do hope you haven't lost your page"

"Thank you Alastor. And yeh, I've got a book mark from where I was when Angel came over"

"I sincerely apologise for not intervening sooner. For I was making my way through the upstairs corridor when I heard you both speaking. I heard you politely decline his offer, and yet he still tried to persue you"

"That's just Angel, I'm sure he's tried it on with most people he meets"

"Unfortunately, that is correct. However, I could not stand by and let him continue to push you when you were very clear about your lack of intentions"

"Thank you Alastor...for everything"

"Why, it is my pleasure my dear"

"But Alastor, I really mean that. I won't lie, I've been hoping to talk to you more personally for a little while now. But you've always seemed to be busy"

"Talk to me more personally? What ever for? Oh my, I have not offended you during your time hear have I?"

"No no, not at all. I just wanted to thank you properly for everything you've done"

"My dear, you already thanked me for what happened. And I do believe Angel has a rather impressive bruise to prove it"

"That's not what I meant..."

"Ah...yes, I understand what you are talking about"

"I just want you to know that I'm grateful for your help in bringing me back hear, and helping me when I was at my lowest. I...I understand that I might have ruined your suit?"

"My suit? Oh! From your blood. That was not your fault my dear, it was completely out of your contol"

"Can I at least pay for the damage?"

"Why, absolutely not! I will not allow a lady to pay for something that she does not need to! Like I explained, it was not your fault"

"Yeh, I guess....if you think about it, Adam was technically to blame"

"Adam?"

"Yeh, the angel guy who was with the extermination"

"Oh ho ho! Do you mean THE Adam? Oh my! I did not know you were attacked by him!"

"Yeh. Asshole threw his spear and it went straight through me"

"I see.....well my dear, I do believe you can thank me for helping you"

"Really? How?"

"By telling me your story and how you happened to come across the leader of the angel forces! The angel's fascinate me, and I would love to hear about your first hand experience with Adam"

"Uh, yeh sure"

"Wonderful! Why don't we take a little stroll through the city while we do? I for one certainly hope I do not have to converse with Angel again any time soon"

"Ok, I'll grab my jacket. (Stands up and picks up the jacket on the arm of the sofa) And, while I like Angel as a friend, I don't like being hit on. I'm not really....one of those people who enjoy....you know"

"You mean sexual physical interaction?"

"That's quite specific, but yeh. That's not to say I don't want to be with someone, or share a romantic bond. But honestly, if it's anything further than a kiss, I just don't feel comfortable with that kind of thing"

"May I just say my dear.....I know exactly how you feel"

"You do?"

"Absolutely. Why, I myself have never been fond of that type of physical interaction. But again, just like you, the only thing I may be comfortable with, is a kiss, but it MUST be with someone whome I trust. It cannot be just any woman"

"I won't lie Alastor, it's nice knowing I'm not the only one. Angel is always so proud of his sex life, whereas I felt a little strange, different from everyone else, both in life and the afterlife"

"Well now, you are not alone in that. Now then, allow me to get the door for you. A gentleman should always open the door for a lady"

On your walk around the city, you told Alastor all about your hiding places when the extermination's happened, and about how you did everything in your power to stay out of sight. But alas, this last one was the unfortunate extermination that finaly got you. Explaining to him that the building you were in had collapsed, and you had nowhere to go, with your only choice being to run, run with all the other sinners who were being pursued. And in the end, Adam was picking sinners off, one by one, like it was a game or some kind of target practice. Even Adam's laugh was etched in your memories, you'd give anything not to remember his maniacal laughter. Alastor listened closely to your every word, he never interrupted or judged you, just simply listened along, walking beside you, your arm looped around his.

"My my. You really did have it hard out hear didn't you?"

"It's hell, I assumed it was hard everyday"

"Mhm, quite right. Tell me, are you healing well? Are you in any pain at all? If you need to, I can always check your stitches to see how your healing"

"That's kind of you Alastor, but I'm actually doing alright. It doesn't hurt and I've not had any issues with it"

"Very good, I'm glad"

"Alastor?"

"Yes my dear?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"But of course!"

"Every street we've walked down, every sinner we've passed....they all run away....they all look frightened of you"

"Aha, well I AM the radio demon after all! I strike fear into the hearts of many lifeforms in hell. What kind of overlord would I be if people did not flee in my presence?"

"Yeh, I guess. Hey? Look, someone's walking towards us...oh...and he looks mad!"

"Hm? Where are you looking?......Oh fuck. Do stay behind me my dear, I wouldn't want you to be verbally berated by this obnoxious parasite"

"But who is he Alastor?"

"That, my dear Y/N, is Vox"

Alastor held his hand out in a protective way when you stood partially behind him, he didn't want Vox near you.

"Alastor! You outdated, pathetic fucking prick!"

"Aha! Your vocabulary is as colourful as ever dear Vox. How long has it been since our last interaction? Hm? 7 years?"

"Your damn fucking right! What the fuck are you doing back?! And with Lucifer's kid too?!"

"I am simply offering my valuable services to the princess. She requires help with her cause, and I am giving it"

"I got a bone to pick with you! You cut off all the god damn power when I was live the other day!"

"Oh no my dear Vox, that was not my doing. You were the one who happend to see that I was back, and it was you that was speaking badly against me. All I did was simply put my side across when you were doing your best to paint me in a dark light"

"I said you should've stayed gone! And I meant it! You blew my whole fucking internet connection! All of pentagram city went dark!"

"Ah, but again Vox, that was not my fault. You simply got....how do I put this?...over sensitive? About me being back on the air. And you blew your own internet connection. My radio works perfectly fine without all your gadgets...hense why I still believe that radio is the best and correct way for people to express themselves"

"I'll express your god damn arms from body for that asshole!"

"Ah ah ah...I'm afraid this little dance must be saved for another day. As you can see, I have the pleasure of a young lady's company. And I will not allow you to attempt to throw hands with me, infront of her"

"Lady? What lady? You mean the bitch behind you?"

"Don't you dare call her that! Y/N is a guest at the hotel, and she has shown nothing but respect to all she's met. I would hope you could at least make an attempt at being a gentleman, and show her the same"

"Fuck you Alastor. She's a sinner, why the fuck would I care what I say to her? Look, girl. I don't know who you are, and I quite frankly don't care. I'm hear to talk to this asshole, so why don't you beat it?"

"Say that to my face you wide faced prick!"

You shout in anger. As Vox advanced on you, Alastor was a split second away from punching his lights out. But in that second, you slipped under Alastor's arm, and kicked Vox so hard in the balls, he practically turned to stone. Eyes watering, holding his crotch and shaking in pain, he cried a little as he fell to the floor.

"Oh ho ho! My my, nice shot my dear! I wasn't expecting that from you. I grow more and more impressed with you each time I interact with you"

"Thanks. Mother fucker deserved it. (Looking down at Vox) Don't ever call me that again! You wide faced fuck"

"Ahh...look at him crying in pain, it's a delight to witness it. Come my dear, let me escort you back to the hotel. It's getting rather late after all. (Starts walking away with you) are you hungry? How about I make us some Jambalaya? It's my signature recipe"

As you and Alastor leave the street, Vox just about manages to get onto his knees, staring you both down through bloodshot, tear filled eyes.

"So......you got yourself a friend eh radio bastard? Well.....we'll just see about that...."

The next few days went by quite quick, you spent more time getting to know Alastor, aswell as the other people in the hotel. Pentious was a little strange, but once he was convinced you weren't planning to kill him in his sleep, he soon warmed up to you. Husk was grumpy a lot of the time, but spending evenings at the bar with him, asking him how he is and wanting to learn more about his life, he also warmed up to you too. If you were lucky, Husk would give you a genuine smile. But other than that, you and him would just chat. Days turned into weeks and the strongest bond you had with anyone there, was Alastor. One evening, as you were sat with Angel on the lobby sofas, Alastor came and sat beside you.

"Good evening Y/N, Angel. I trust you both are in good spirits?"

"Eh, not me. I gotta go tah work in a minute. Val's got me doin threeways tonight. And I'm stuck working with these two guys who ain't even got 5 inches between 'um. What's the god damn point? Ah well, at least I ain't gotta worry about holdin my breath for a long time. Anyway, I gotta go, I'll see yas lat'ah"

When Angel walked out, you didn't expect to giggle at the sight of Alastor's shadow, making rude hand signs to him as he left, all while Alastor was sat quietly.

"Does your shadow have a mind of it's own?"

"Hm? Ah, my shadow, I do believe that's a discussion for another time. But for now, what are you doing?"

"Nothing much, just finishing my book"

"Did I hear correctly the other day, that this book was one of your favourites?"

"Yes, it is"

"Dare I ask, why do you keep reading it? Surely you must know what happens, and it can't be as interesting as the first read"

"Well, with some books I agree, but this one is different. Each time I re-read it, I notice a new clue or something I missed the other times, making the whole story change a little, and make me thing about who the real murderer is. I love it! Have you ever read it?"

"Let me see...An Inspector Calls? Nope, I have not had the pleasure of reading that book"

"Well hear, please give it a try. I have a feeling you'll like it"

"Are you sure? This is your favourite"

"Yes, and I've read it many times. Just give it a try, trust me, you'll like it"

"Hm....Alright"

You handed Alastor your book, and when you did, yours and his fingers touched. And strangely, he slightly lingered, not pulling away, and he even avoided eye contact with you, with a blush on his cheeks. He sat back comfortably, reading the first page with curiosity.

"Y/N!"

"Yes Vaggie?"

"Could you come upstairs for a minute? I need help getting Nifty out of the drains!"

"(Chuckle) Sure, I'll be right up!"

Still chuckling a little, you left Alastor to read and made your way upstairs to help Vaggie. Poor little Nifty was so obsessed with cleaning every inch of this hotel, that there were the odd occasions where she needed help being pulled out of the drains and small air ducts. Thankfully, she was absolutely fine, and carried on like nothing had even happened. Vaggie asked if you would mind giving her a hand with other things around the hotel, which you gladly did with her. It was a good couple of hours before you and Vaggie were both finished with your little jobs.

"Aahh, thanks Y/N"

"It's no problem Vaggie, I don't mind helping you out"

"I appreciate it. You can go about your evening now if you like"

"Cool, goodnight Vaggie"

After all those little jobs, you fancied a drink down at the bar before you went to bed. But when you got there, you happened upon a rather interesting sight. Alastor hadn't moved, in fact he was very still....he was fast asleep! In all the time you'd known him, you had never seen him relaxed or fall alseep. He had told you his sleep pattern was all over the place, he'd sometimes go days and nights without it. But hear he was, head floppy, his fingers on the open page of the book, leaning against the sofa, completely out. You couldn't help the little aww that escaped your lips when you saw him, he was so sweet. You didn't want to disturb him, he clearly needed the rest, so instead, you help him get a little more comfortable. Carefully, you slip the book out of his hands, putting the book mark on the page before placing it on the table. Then you delicately slip one hand behind his shoulders, and the other against his neck and cheek. Gently moving him from a sitting position to lie him down, pillow under his head for more comfort. Now that he was lying down, taking the blanket from the back of the sofa, you wrap it around his body, keeping him nice and warm. Standing back to look at him, he was the most peaceful you'd ever seen him, and he still had his smile. How was he able to keep his smile even when he was asleep? It fascinated you. Turning to leave, you quickly turned back and wrote a little note, leaving it in the table beside the book, for Alastor to read when he wakes up. Then you left him, going back to your room and falling asleep in your soft, cozy bed. It was around 3-4 in the morning when Angel came back home, storming through the door and startling Alastor from his slumber.

"Angel! What is the meaning of this barbaric noise?!"

"Ah, sorry smiles! I'm just-hickup...I'm just back from work"

"Your drunk"

"Well, what the fuck do yah expect? I need somethin to stop me from remembering how many guys I fucked tonight. Say? What are yah doing down hear? And was you asleep?"

"I...I must have...dosed off. Don't make something out of it! It was an accident"

"An accident? So yah accidentally fell alseep, with the blanket over yah? And accidentally lead down?"

"No! I....I was reading....and the blanket...(he pulls the blanket to his lap, feeling the soft warm material in his fingers) I did not fall asleep like this....I was sat up...reading"

"Ah well, I frankly don't really-hiccup-really care. I'm gunna go...I'm gunna go tah bed....I need a loooooong fuckin sleep"

Angel stumbled up the stairs to his room, while Alastor was still sat, wondering how he find himself in this way. His eyes glanced at the table infront of him, that's where he sees the book he was reading, bookmarked, and with a little hand written note on top. Taking the note, it read

I didn't want to wake you, you looked like you needed the rest. I've bookmarked your page so you wouldn't loose it. Sleep well. Y/N x

"Hmmm.......how.....interesting......."

When you came down to the lobby the next morning, Angel, Fat Nuggets and Nifty were hanging out at the bar, chatting and getting poured drinks by Husk. But when you looked around, you didn't see Alastor. He wasn't on the sofa, nor was he anywhere to be seen in the lobby. Maybe he woke up in the middle of the night and went back to his room? He must have done, because the book and the note were gone too. Ah well, your sure you'll see him again later today. After a little breakfast and a chat with Angel, you made your way back up the stairs and down the main corridor. Angel asked if you wouldn't mind grabbing Fat Nuggets his harness, as he wanted to take him for a little walk to get some new toys. You didn't mind at all, and you were almost at his room, just a few doors away, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge black tentacle came from behind you, wrapped around your waist, chest and arms, and pulled you down the hall quicker than you could say hazbin. In a scary flash, your pulled down this corridor and let go once it took you to this random.

"What the fuck? What the hell was-A? Alastor? Was that you that just did that? How the hell do you have tentacles?!"

Alastor stood facing the window, not answering or looking at you just yet, and you had no idea why he quite literally dragged you into his room.

"Alastor? Why did you do that? That frightened me"

"......My dear......I do believe that I should be asking what you were doing last night?"

"What? What about last night?"

"When you........you saw me.....in my......vulnerable state......"

"Vulnerable state? What? You mean when you fell asleep on the sofa? What exactly did I do wrong?"

"Nothing....as of yet. My actions were to bring you hear and find out what you are planning"

"What are you talking about?"

"Y/N......we are in hell......everyone is out to get everyone.......and I......am the radio demon....."

"Ok? Look, just because there are lots of people in hell who deserve to be hear, doesn't mean everyone is. If you think I'm out to get you in some way, your wrong"

"Oh really?.....(turning to face you) I am a very powerful overlord my dear.....and last night I found myself in a rather unfortunate way. And yet.....I was not harmed....or had anything stolen from me. Which must mean you are planning too.....aren't you?"

".....Wow....you really think I'd do that?"

"Anyone would......I am a demon, a strong overlord-"

"And I don't care!"

"Ah ha...what did you say?"

"Alastor, I don't care that your an overlord, or how powerful you are. And you know what, I genuinely feel bad for you, that you feel like you can't trust anyone. You can't even trust someone to give you a fucking blanket when you fell asleep. Why? Why would I want to harm or do anything bad to the man who I thought I had a genuine connection with, and could even call a friend. I am not out to get you Alastor, if you've forgotten, I wouldn't be hear if it wasn't for you and Charlie, and I will never forget that. All I did last night was made sure you were comfortable, warm, and that you didn't have a bad back when you woke up, that's it! But....it seems that even with me showing you that I trust you, and caring about your wellbeing, it's not felt the same from you"

Turning to the door, you open it and stand in the doorway, looking back at Alastor one last time.

"You may not see it, but there are people in this hotel who genuinely like you, and enjoy your company Alastor......not everyone is your enemy"

And with that, you close the door behind you, going to Angel's room to collect Fat Nuggets harness, just like you were suposed to. Alastor on the other hand, was still smiling, but his eyes changed. He looked out the window, contemplating what he just said to you, and weather he was right in accusing you of doing something to harm or manipulate him in the future. Nearly every single demon, sinner or someone he knew when he was alive was out to get him, or had an ulterior motive. All except his mother before he died, he couldn't find anyone else to trust like that. Or did? And did his accusation towards you, just loose him the chance of learning to trust another person again?

Link to part 2

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader

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blackypanther9 · 1 year ago

Text

Father!Alastor x Son!Reader MASTERLIST

Summary: M/n and Alastor were two lonely people. M/n was abandoned by his parents, as he was six years of age, and Alastor lost his Mother to death a while ago. They found each other by pure chance. How will their adventures go ?

A/N: These are only Oneshots !! Usually I add Warnings in the Chapters, but I am adding them here, so you know this might be there. Don't worry nothing bad will happen to M/n and Alastor for the first few Oneshots. There is a lot of Fluff and comfort. Art belongs to their rightful owner (It might change) Reblogs are allowed too ! (Fem!Daughter!Reader is also in this Masterlist !!)

WARNING!: Mentions of sexual assult, bullying, abuse, cursing, murder, cannibalism, blood x gore, protective!Alastor AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

Chapters (Father!Alastor x Son!Reader):

1 How they met

2 I’ll protect you

3 I keep my words

4 How M/n met Mimzy

5 Alastor teaches M/n how to hunt

6 Patient Alastor

7 Over my dead body !

8 M/n learning Voodoo Magic

9 Kitchen War (WIP)

10 Old fart (WIP)

11 Start of Cannibalism

12 Rescue (WIP)

13 The dark past will always hunt you

14 They know

15 Two times seperated and one time united

Side Chapters (What ifs):

Discovery (WIP) (Father!Alastor x Son!Reader)

Extras/Headcanons (for Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader):

1 Boys ask you out – Teen!Daughter!Reader x Father!Alastor

2 Boys ask you out – Demon!Daughter!Reader x Father!Alastor

3 Gossip between Father and Daughter – Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader

4 Very first Period – Teen!Daughter!Reader x Father!Alastor

5 If you had a girlfriend and came out to Alastor – Father!Alastor x Teen!Daughter!Reader

6 If you had a Boyfriend and Alastor meets him – Father!Alastor x Teen!Daughter!Reader

7 Only once, never again – Father!Alastor x Teen!Daughter!Reader

8 Alastor's Daughter is a Boss Bitch - Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader

Main Masterlist

#fanfiction #Father!Alastor x Son!Reader #Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader #male!reader #hazbin hotel #Alastor x Reader #Human!Alastor #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #Fem!Reader #Alive!Human!Alastor #Human!Reader #Alastor x Child!Reader #Alastor x Reader Masterlist #Father!Alastor Masterlist #Father!Alastor x Child!Reader Masterlist #Hazbin Hotel x Reader Masterlist

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ragequeen94 · 4 months ago

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My opinion on something that has nothing to do with me and is none of my or anyone else's business.

Jutty didn't intentionally do anything wrong from his own statement and the girl who posted.

But her experience is real.

Both can be right.

What's shitty is the way yall are acting and basically treating this incident with the same aggression and rage as if he had internally hurt her, rather than a interpretive mistake.

His statement wasn't ideal, he didn't apologize but also this isn't for us to police. It was an accident. And I'm someone who had bleed for SA victims to have a voice... and this isn't is. I fucking am one.

Even Calling what happened SA implies intent. That what he did he did maliciously. A child was at an all ages show, but was in an adult situation that most people would be able to navigate. None of this is her fault, and I'm sorry that she was upset by what happened, I'm sorry for the reaction of the community, and I'm sorry that its happening at all.

None of us know Jutty so I won't say he wouldn't. But what happened was so minimal in action.

When we lable him touching inappropriately during a photo op situation (something that had happened to many celebrities in the past which is why we have the stupid hand hover thing now) as Sexual Assult and demand his head with vengeance to the level it is at right now....

It invalidates intentional sexual assault... for a lack of a better description... because suddenly no one is rational thinking. Only rage and emotion. We are too quick to attack because why wouldn't we be... and it's valid and it's incredible we are so quick to believe people. But in the other hand... it is so easy to not want to accidentally appear as someone who disregards SA and victim statements that we treat every situation the same... we got here so quickly culturally... I wish there was support like this when I was younger... but on the other hand... socially we have been handed a loaded gun. And we need to not be so quick to pull the trigger when we aren't in danger. We lack the vocabulary to articulate the fact that sometimes... no one is right. And no one is wrong.

Believe those who speak out.

Always keep a critical mind.

#jutty taylor

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allthesmutl0vers · 4 months ago

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The Weight of Blood: Tom/Theo/Draco/Regulus/Fem!Reader (A/N--TW--Prologue)

NSFW,MDNI,18+,Triggering Content Masterlist Pairing: Tom Riddle/Theo Nott/Draco Malfoy/Regulus Black/Fem!Reader Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated. Summary: When students return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for their final year, their biggest obstacle is passing their final exams. At least, that’s how it should be. But life has never been that easy for y/n. Between juggling the rocky, and some would say, an abusive relationship she has with one quidditch star, Cormac McLaggen, and cramming for her exams, she never finds the time to enjoy the things she loves. Ice skating, reading by the fire, riding a broom, or taking a walk through the forbidden forest to look for animals to capture with her camera. Little does she know, a storm is brewing. A storm that could rip away everything she holds dear, upending her life, even threatening to end it once and for all. A storm that is caused by the perceived weight her blood holds against those who hold the title weight, pure-blood. Being driven straight into the walls of the castle by four very handsome, very dangerous Slytherin boys. But will her being caught in the eyes of these boys be enough to change the direction of the wind? Or will they leave her to fight for herself in the eye of the storm? Only time will tell. If there is enough of it, at least. “I wouldn’t call it love. I’d call it an obsession.” - Tom Riddle IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a DARK ROMANCE, please take a look at the trigger warnings, and make sure you are comfortable reading this story before you start it. This story may not be for everyone. This is a multi-part story. I will be updating it as well as 'Managing Mischief' (Weasley Twins/Fem!Reader) throughout the week. You can click below to read more. But don't say I didn't warn you.

Author’s Note

This story is a fan-fiction. I do not own any of the characters, places, or situations within this story besides those that I create.

Please do not print, bind, or sell this work, as it would be an illegal act. Keep our writers and stories safe, legal, and free for all to enjoy.

This is a dark romance. Some situations/actions may be triggering/unsuitable for some.

With all of that being said, please read the Content and trigger Warnings.

Your Mental Health Matters.

Domestic Violence Hotline: (Call) 800-799-723 (Text-BEGIN) to 88788

Suicide Prevention Hotline: (Text/Call) 988

Self-Harm Hotline: (Call) 1-800-366-8288 (Text-CONNECT) to741741

Sexual-Assult Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

You are not alone.

It is not your fault.

The world is better with you in it.

My DMs are open if you need someone to talk to. Or simply someone to listen.

Content and Trigger Warnings

Abusive Relationship: Slapping, Non-Con Touching (mentioned only), Rape (mentioned only), Degradation (and not the kind we like), Humiliation, One On-Page Punch (past ones implied), Victim Blaming, Revenge Porn.

Violence: Fist Fights, Magical Cursing, Blood, Attempted Drowning, Knife To Throat Threats

Character Death

Depression

Attempted Suicide

Self-Harm

HEAVY Smut: One-On-One, Three, Four, and Fivesome scenes.

Heavy BDSM: Bondage, Magical Restraints, Spanking, Choking, Dom/Sub Relationships, Ownership Kink, Shared Ownership Kink, Sir Kink, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Semi-Public Sex, Primal Play, Knife Play, Blood Play, Marking/Branding Kinks, Orgasm Denial/Control, Edging, Overstimulation, Double Penetration, Anal Sex, Oral Sex (Male and Female Receiving), Breeding Kink.

Found Family

Betrayal

Discrimination: Based on blood-status.

Bullying

This story is Multi-POV, but primarily told from the Reader’s point of view.

Dedication

For all of us who have dreamed of being rescued, only to realize we had the power all along.

Prologue

Tom

Blood status amongst wizards and witches is the most powerful, most prominent, and most valuable thing we possess. Without it, how would we know who is worthy of our time? Or, more importantly, our loyalty.

Or so I’ve always been taught.

Even in the summer, the manor is dark, casting shadows along the cold corridors as we all gather for the first official meeting. Inside the grand dining room of Malfoy Manor, the parents are anxious, wondering if it’s a trap. Not that I blame them for keeping their children close to them. But those I have grown to think of as friends can handle their own. As they’ve proved not just their abilities, but their loyalty a hundred times over.

My parents died long ago, not that I care. Why should I? I never met them. My father was a filthy muggle, and my mother a blood-traitor who died for love of all things. Not that anyone knows that. They couldn’t, and they never will.

The door opens, and in walks our leader. The head of the charge against mud-bloods, is here to lead us into putting them in their rightful place, beneath our feet. Wirely and unruly black hair that hangs to her waist and long black robes that hang loosely around her frame, she steps up to the head of the table.

“You may be seated,” she says calmly, but her tone is also commanding. Everyone sits down around the table, myself included. Not daring to speak, not daring to ask the first question. She takes a long sip of her wine before leaning on the table, propping herself on her elbows as her fingers interlock.

“Firstly, I would like to thank you all for joining me here this evening. As I’m sure you are well aware, we are under attack,” she says stiffly. “Mud-bloods have never been more common than they are now. Threatening to throw everything we hold most dear out of order,” she looks around. “But no longer will we stand for it. No longer will we be seated at a table with those who don’t deserve to sit.”

“Hear, hear,” Mr. Nott says cheerfully, raising his now fourth glass of wine.

Bellatrix smiles and nods once. “Our biggest issue, as of now, is getting more people to come on board. These progressionistic,” she seethes. “People in the ministry and confirmed blood-traitors, are most unlikely to accept the eradication of muggle-born individuals. So, how do we combat this?” She asks openly.

Lucius clears his throat. “May I suggest, instead of death, exile instead?”

Stupid suggestion.

Bellatrix sits back in her seat as if pondering the ridiculous idea. “To allow them to continue mating and breeding on their own accord?” She says with a tone dripping in disappointment. “Free of any repercussions?” Lucius opens his mouth to speak again when she stops him, raising her hand. “Any other ideas?”

“My lady,” Mrs. Nott speaks up, setting down her glass of wine. “Perhaps we re-visit the ideals and ideas of Grindelwald?” Bellatrix nods for her to continue. “It seems it would be much easier to control the mud-bloods, should we have the muggles fighting alongside us,” Almost everyone snickers at the idea. “As mundane and contradictory as it may seem, there are more muggles than us. Should we find some way to control them and will them to fight for us, we could overthrow the ministry. Implement our laws and ideals, then control everyone.”

Bit ambitious and a far stretch, but the idea is there.

“Where is Grindelwald right now, Mrs. Nott?” Bellatrix asks simply.

“Pardon?” Mrs. Nott asks with a confused expression.

“Theodore,” Bellatrix turns to her son instead. “Remind your dear mother where Grindelwald is at present.”

Theo clears his throat, sitting up straighter. “Azkaban, Ms. Lestrange,” he answers cooly.

“Azkaban. That is correct,” she nods at Theo with a smile before turning to the rest of us. “I would like to remind everyone that muggles are not our concern. They are less than a speck of dirt. What we need to focus on is reestablishing pure-blood family lines. Now, how do we gain control without killing? Use your heads.”

“Capture,” I answer calmly.

“And then?” Bellatrix asks me with a smile.

“Put them in their rightful place, of course. Serving us. Our every whim and desire,” I answer, taking a sip of my bourbon.

Bellatrix smiles and nods. “Yes, yes. Make them fight for us, serve us,” she ponders. “Very good, Mr. Riddle. I wish the others at this table shared your common sense.”

My chest swells with pride, but I keep my face collected.

“Now, let’s talk strategy,” Bellatrix says cheerfully.

Part One

#harry potter smut #tom riddle #theodore nott #draco malfoy smut #regulus black #dark romance

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sheepwhosleeps · 4 months ago

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The eclipse sa scene makes me so angry, and not because it happened but because of the potential it had to connect past story lines. Casca's past from Griffith saving her from the noble (and Casca's overall character in general since I fear that her character went so unexplored during/after it) Guts and his past and how that wasn't even mentioned and Griffith and his past sexual relationships. We could've had a Casca that was out for revenge, a Casca who's character was explored and how she deals with those feelings. We could've had a Guts dealing with his past instead of shoving it off to the side and acting like it never happened (and in a perfect world there would be greater consequences for the assult he did to Casca in later chapters). We could've had a deeper connection of Griffith and his struggle with sex as being a power thing (such as Gennon, the princess, and Casca from the wagon scene). ALL THIS POTENTIAL just for it to come off as some weird hentai and for it to be just about Guts when it could've been a great exploration for all three characters. Also that scene of Guts' dark thoughts wanting to sa Casca to get closer to Griffith is conviently never talked about when I see people hating on Griffith's character and acting like Guts was the perfect man for Casca. It makes me laugh. I hate when people take the asshole out of Guts' character, what makes him interesting IS those dark thoughts of how he's still not over Griffith despite what happened to a woman he supposedly cares about. Honestly I hope Casca kills them both atp or she becomes an apostle. Or she does SOMETHING to make her an actual character again.

#casca berserk #griffith berserk #guts berserk #idk how to tag this

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jadewolf22 · 9 months ago

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Whatever You Need

Fem!Reader x Sub!Larissa

Warnings: Strap on sex, fingering, eating out, panick attack, mentions of sexual assult, fluff, ect…

Summary: You and Larissa finally decide to take the next step in your relationship but when something goes wrong you learn something about her past that leaves you speechless.

You and Larissa had been dating for a couple of months and you both decided that you were ready to take the next step. You were excited, to say the least, and wanted this experience to be memorable for Larissa. You surprised her with a picnic dinner on the edge of the lake and a bottle of her favourite red wine. The evening was spent in a happy bliss, the two of you wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world around you. When night fell you wrapped Larissa in your arms, teleporting the two of you to your house just outside of Jericho. Setting the picnic basket down on the kitchen table you took Larissa’s hand, pulling her up to your bedroom with a school girl giggle.

Closing your bedroom door, you turned, pressing your lips to Larissa’s in a passionate kiss, your hands beginning to roam over her beautiful body. You pushed her, gently, down onto your bed, crawling on top of her. You moved your kisses to her neck and shoulders, your hands slowly working to remove her clothing, her hands moving up your body, slipping your dress over your head.

Hooking your finger under the band of her silk underwear you looked up at her, your eyes asked for consent, which she gave in the form of a nod. Smirking, you planted a kiss to her stomach, slipping off her underwear and bringing your face down to her core, latching your lips to her clit and beginning to suck on the bundle of nerves, drawing a gasping moan from Larissa, her legs tightening around your head. You smirked, teasing the bud with your teeth as you slipped a finger into her dripping cunt, pumping it and out of her. Your reward was a string of heavenly moans that rivalled pornstars leaping off Larissa’s tongue as you continued, slipping in a second finger.

“Oh–! Oh, GOD, Y/n!” Larissa cried, gripping the sheets tightly, “Y/n, please! Please, can I cum?!”

“Go ahead, Darling,” you whispered, increasing your pace as you felt her walls clench around your fingers.

With a broken scream, Larissa came; her cum milking your fingers and her thighs. You hummed in delight, moving quickly to lap the cum from her pussy and thighs, helping her down from her high before bringing your fingers up for her to suck on. She moaned at the taste of her on you, swirling her tongue around your fingers until they were clean.

Pulling your fingers from her mouth, you planted a kiss to her neck, grabbing a thick black strap from under your bed, attaching it to you with skilled fingers. Larissa’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the massive faux dick, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, lining the cock up with her entrance, “I’ll go slow . . .”

Slowly, you began sliding into her, pausing every couple seconds to allow her to adjust to the size. You notice her breathing becoming more rapid, and her body beginning to tremble but you thought nothing of it, assuming it was her body’s way of adjusting to the faux cock. Soon, the cock was buried up to the base in Larissa’s pussy and so, slowly, you began to move inside her, thrusting back and forth into her tight hole.

Grabbing at the sheets and arching her back up off the bed, Larissa began crying, “Stop! Oh god, please stop! I can’t–! I can’t–!”

Immediately you stopped, gently pulling out of her and removing the strap, tossing it onto the floor as you rolled off of Larissa, crawling up next to her and gathering the sobbing, gasping blonde in your arms.

“I– I’m sorry–” Larissa choked, burying her face in the crook of your neck.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” you assured, rubbing Larissa’s back, “It’s okay, if you’re not ready . . . Just breathe; okay? Just breathe for me. You’re okay . . .”

The two of you sat there like that for quite some time, you working to help Larissa slow her breathing and heart rate, rubbing small circles over her back and toying with her hair.

“ . . . I’m sorry . . .” Larissa whispered again, “I just–”

“You do not have to explain anything.” you said in a gentle, but firm tone. It broke your heart that Larissa felt as if she had to apologise, “And you do not need to apologise. I’ll wait as long as you need me to. I will never force you into this.” The confused look in Larissa’s eye nearly broke you, but it also gave you the answer to the question you were hesitant to ask, “Someone’s already forced you; haven’t they?”

Larissa nodded as more tears began to slip down her face, broken sobs escaping her lips. You pulled Larissa into your lap, cradling her like a small child, pressing kisses to the top of her head while wiping the tears from her eyes.

“My last relationship–” Larissa started, her words broken by gentle sobs, “My last relationship was with an owner of a bar in a neighbouring town–” “Larissa,” you said gently, looking into her pools of sapphire, “you don’t have to tell me anything–”

“Yes, I do.” Larissa insisted, “I need you– I want you to know what happened . . .”

“ . . . okay . . .” you whispered, nodding.

“He was charming and funny at first,” Larissa started, “A new bouquet of flowers every visit, coffee dates, and late nights spent talking at the bar while he worked . . . I thought he was perfect– Then one night we were at the bar . . . He asked me to go upstairs with him and help him carry some things. As soon as we were in the storage room, he locked the door and came at me . . . I tried to fight him but he was stronger than I was . . . He assaulted me and then left . . . I never saw him again after that . . .”

Fresh tears were running down Larissa’s cheeks, her body shaking as the memories resurfaced. She hugged herself tightly, her eyes tightly shut. Her breath was laboured and shaky, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

“Larissa,” you said, shaking her shoulders to try and snap her out of whatever she was seeing, “Larissa! Come on, look at me!” Larissa’s eyes snapped open and she looked at you, those pools of sapphire darkened with a shadow of fear. You pulled her to you once more, begging her to breathe with you as you hugged her close, the feeling of your arms around her calming Larissa slightly.

“I’ve got you,” you assured, “I am nothing like him . . . I will wait as long as you need to . . . Whatever you need, I’ll give you . . .”

“Thank you . . .” Larissa whispered shakily, pressing her body as close to you as possible.

“You’re welcome, darling.” you whispered back, sliding down on the bed and rolling onto your side with Larissa still in your arms, watching as sleep took over her exhausted form.

#gwendoline christie #wednesday #gwendolineuniverse #larissa weems #jane murdstone #captain phasma #jan stevens #brienne of tarth #lucifer morningstar #miranda hilmarson

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griffin-girl-r · 1 year ago

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Blackhill requests you say? Dw I got you covered!

Natasha and Maria are both happily married with an 8 year old daughter (r) when r’s dad enters the picture (r was conceived in the red room so he’s a bad guy who Nat had a one night stand with at some point idk)

She's mine

Created: 11.11.2023

Finished: 16.11.2023

Edited: 17.11.2023

Age: 8

Word count: 2,935

Warnings: Homophobia , Mentions of sexual assult , Abandonment , Misogyny

Anymore let me know

Request: Yes (Tumblr user) (@ravensinthedaylight)

Pairings: BlackHill, Natasha Romanoff x Lev Ilyin (Original!Evil!Character) (Past mention)

—

Natasha and Maria were quietly sitting on the couch in their living room, snuggled closer to each other as their 8-year-old daughter, Y/N, was sandwiched in between the two women.

'Lilo and Stitch', Y/N's favorite movie was playing on the TV and their little girl was absolutely fascinated about everything that was happening in it as if she wasn't seeing this movie for the millionth time.

Natasha had to buy 40 new DVDs with the movie, in the last 7 years since its release, because Y/N watched them so often that they quickly got scratched and, therefore, almost useless.

Natasha could only blame her wife for introducing their daughter to this movie.

Now, truth be told, Maria wasn't actually the other biological parent of Y/N.

Years ago, when Natasha was still a young mere prisoner of her own life, she was forced by the organization that had taken care of her training to have intimate relationships with a man she didn't even know.

More of like, being offered against her own will by the Red Room to one of their men but that is all in the past.

She was ready to keep living with everything that happened to her as long as the only good thing that came out of everything, her daughter, was by her side.

A knock at the front door interrupted Y/N's innocent giggles and the little family looked confused towards the door.

Who could be at the door at this late hour?

"I'm coming!" Maria shouted, carefully moving Y/N's sleepy body, who was using Maria as a pillow, away

"I'll get it." Natasha quickly placed her hand on Maria's arm, stopping her

Maria looked at Natasha for a second and the agent wanted to protest but the reassuring smile the redhead was wearing was too tempting.

"As you wish, my love." Maria smiled back

"I'll be quick." Natasha quickly peaked her wife's lips, then stood up, making her way towards the front door

—

Natasha opened the front door, unaware of the darkness that was lurking just on the other side of it.

A sickening smirk formed on the face of the man who was standing just in front of the red-headed woman.

"Hello, Natalia." He said "Long time no see. Did you miss me?"

Natasha froze in place for a moment as she took in the sight of the man she never thought she would see again.

Memories of a long-forgotten time had resurfaced in her mind.

She shook her head "No..." Natasha whispered "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you know..." The man began "I came to take back what's mine."

Natasha looked at the man, her eyes widening in shock.

"You are not going to take my daughter away from me!" She protectively declared

"Our daughter, my darling." The man corrected her "Oh, and what makes you think that I'm here just for our daughter?" He chuckled "I am here for you as well, Natalia. You are mine just as much as our daughter is." He stated as a matter of factly "How is she, by the way?"

The man took a step forward, walking uninvited inside Natasha's home, and looked around.

"I bet she grew up a lot in the time I haven't seen her." He added when Natasha hesitated to answer his question

"Leave her alone, Lev." Natasha raised her voice "She's innocent. She doesn't have anything to do with all this madness. I thought you were busy planning the world's dominance. How come you have come for us after all this time? How come that HYDRA let you leave their safe prison."

"How?" Lev chuckled "I was never a prisoner at HYDRA, to begin with, unlike you. I am one of their highest-ranked agents. Why do you think they offered you to me out of all people?" He explained "Now I am here to claim what's mine. And this time, neither you nor our little girl will run away. I will find you anywhere."

Anger raised inside of Natasha just as much as fear built inside her.

She couldn't believe her eyes. She couldn't believe that after all this time, the man who hurt her and took advantage of her body was here to claim something he never took part in.

More specifically, in the raising of Y/N, which he had no right over.

"Just leave us alone." Natasha shouted

"You wish!" Lev laughed sadistically

From inside the living room, Maria's ears picked up on the raising tone of her wife's voice, and her instincts kicked in, telling her to go and check what was happening.

"Stay here, baby." Maria kissed your head "Mom is gonna go and quickly check if Mama is okay out there and see who is at the door."

"Okay, Mom." You replied distracted as your attention was fully focused on the movie

Maria stood up and with one last ruffle of your hair, she made her way towards the front door.

"Honey?" Maria called Natasha confused, as she took in the sight of the unknown man sitting in front of her wife "Are you okay? Who's is he?" She pointed to the man "Were you expecting someone?"

"So this is that so-called wife of yours I've heard about." The man smiled "Well it's nice to meet my replacement but we have to leave, Natalia."

Maria looked confused between Natasha and the man for a second.

"What do you mean you have to leave?" Maria asked "Babe?" She turned her head towards Natasha, waiting for her answer

Natasha looked up from the floor, directly into Maria's eyes and the brunette could see the tears that were present in her wife's eyes, causing Maria's instincts to heighten immediately as a surge of protectiveness overflowed her senses.

When Natasha begged Maria to help her just with one look, Maria pushed Natasha behind her with a swift move.

"I don't know who you are." Maria said, her muscles tensing "But I'll have to ask you to leave. Nicely." Se ordered the man through gritted teeth

"You have no right to tell me to leave." The man laughed "I am here to claim what's mine and you, weak woman, will never be able to make me leave."

Just then, Maria's brain clicked on what was happening and she understood who the man that was standing in front of her was.

"You monster." Maria whispered angrily "I know exactly who you are."

"Well..." The man raised his arms, proud of who he was "It took you some time to figure that out." He sang "I expected you to be smarter than this."

"This is the last time I am asking you nicely to leave this house. That unless you want to have some serious problems." Maria said once again

"Oh, come on." The man chuckled sarcastically "You don't expect me to be afraid of a woman and especially of you, don't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say the same thing if I were you." Maria tilted her head "I am ready to do anything to protect my family."

"Your family?!" The man shouted "They're mine! I am going to take my belongings and leave."

"They are staying here." Maria protested "You don't even know how my daughter is named, let alone have any right over her. I raised her ever since she was a five-month-old baby. I was the one who changed her diapers, checked for any monsters under her bed, and loved her, not you." She hissed "And the same goes for my wife. She's mine for a reason."

From the corner of her eye, Maria saw some movement right behind her, and she saw the man's smirk growing wider.

"Aha, my sweet girl!" The man cheerfully exclaimed "I finally came home. Are you excited to see me?"

Y/N silently peeked at the man from behind her moms.

"Mama?" You called shyly "Who's that?" You pointed towards the man

"No one, baby." Natasha quickly tried to make you leave "Just go back to the movie, okay? Me and Mom will be there very soon."

"Mom?" Lev raised his eyebrow "There is no such thing as another mom. I am your other parent, sweetheart." The man tried to tempt you in a sweet tone "I came here so you could have a normal family. I am your Dad." He declared

"Dad?" You asked confused, looking up towards Natasha "I have no dad. I have Mama and Mom. I already have two parents."

"Well, your parents must be a mom and a dad, not two moms." Lev tried to turn you against your mothers

"But, I love my moms." You innocently declared "They love me and we're always having fun. And Mom always carries me on her shoulders and buys me ice cream, while Mama reads me bedtime stories and gives me the best hugs in the world."

But just before you got to finish your sentence, the man snatched you away by your arm and forcefully held you in place.

You let out a terrified scream as tears quickly made their way down your cheeks.

"Mama!" You screamed out in fear, begging Natasha to help you

"Leave her alone!" Natasha screamed as she tried to grab you back from the men, but she didn't manage to "My baby!"

"Leave my child alone!" Maria threatened "That's my daughter you're holding there. You just don't get it."

"These two girls are mine! And she's coming with me." He pointed towards you

"She's mine!" Maria shouted as she grabbed your other arm quickly and pulled you towards her with all her force, causing the man to loosen his grip on you "They are both mine!" Maria declared as she quickly shoved you behind her to shield you from anything, just as she has done with Natasha "I don't know what's the reason behind your actions and what your evil plan is, but you must leave right now!"

Lev, in a fraction of a second, lifted his arm and punched Maria in the face.

Natasha let out a horrified gasp, her hands instinctively flying to her mouth to cover it in order to muffle any sound.

"Mom!" You screamed, afraid that your mom was badly hurt

"It's okay, kid. Mom is okay." Maria reassured you as she looked towards the man "So, you want to fight?" She nodded, taking a deep breath "Alright then, that's what you'll get."

And just like that, Maria delivered a punch back towards the man and a fight started.

Natasha wanted to help her wife, but she also knew that you needed protection and reassurance as she took two steps backward, shielding you with her body.

Kicks and punches were thrown around from both sides and just as the fight was getting more violent, a blowing sound was heard and the door of their house was slammed open.

"S.H.I.E.L.D., get down!" A deep voice shouted as agents armed with weapons burst inside their home

—

"This won't end like this!" Lev shouted as he tried to fight his restraints, just as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents escorted him away

"We'll see about that, Lev Ilyin!" Maria shouted behind him before she quickly turned her attention back to her wife and daughter "You're okay." She said in a rushed but reassuring voice "Everything is okay now, my sweethearts." The brunette woman pulled you and your mama in her arms "No one's ever gonna be able to take you away from me, I'm here and I will always protect you, you both are mine and no one else's."

Your small whimpers broke both Maria and Natasha's hearts.

Natasha held you tightly in her arms "It's okay, baby, it's okay. You're okay." Natasha kissed the top of your head and you hid your face in her stomach

Your cries slowly turned into quiet sniffs as you basked in the protection you felt from both your mothers as Maria protectively held you and Natasha closer to her.

"You're both okay." Maria whispered "We're all okay."

Natasha raised her head and looked at her wife's face, a gasp escaping the redhead's lips.

"Masha, you're hurt!" Natasha worriedly looked at Maria's bruised face and raised her hand to touch her wife's cheek

Maria tenderly grabbed Natasha's hand, stopping her from touching her cheek.

"It's okay, my love." Maria reassured "It's nothing. I just need a little bit of care from you and our little princess and I'll be all healed in no time."

"I'm sorry." Natasha whispered on the verge of crying "I never expected to see him again."

"None of that!" Maria sternly declared "You have no fault in this. Okay?"

"But Maria..." Natasha began before sighing when she saw the look on Maria's face and the spy changed the subject "How did the agents show up just on time?"

"Well, I kind of activated the alarm I have on my bracelet and they were alerted when I realized who Lev was." Maria shrugged her shoulders as if it wasn't such a big deal

"You sneaky agent." Natasha chuckled, a gleam of proudness shining in her eyes

"Well, what can I say?" Maria tried to sniffle her laughter "I am prepared for any situation."

But just as they hugged again, the sweet moment of the small family of three was interrupted by Nick Fury, who walked inside the room holding a file in his hand.

"Agent Hill. Agent Romanoff." He nodded, greeting the women "I want to thank you for catching one of the most wanted criminals on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s list.

"Well, you know..." Maria turned annoyed towards Fury, angry that he disturbed their moment "He kind of messed up with my family. I had to do something about it."

"As a thanks, I have a very special mission for you both." Fury stated "I need your help and you have just proven to me that you're both fit for this mission."

Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes "I knew there was something about you showing up here, Nick, not just because of Lev Ilyin."

"You know me, Agent Romanoff." He stated unimpressed, extending his hand towards them, offering them the file "Ilyin is just another trophy to our collection."

The couple grabbed the file from his hand and Natasha opened it, looking at the name of their next target that was written on the first page with big, bold letters.

"Tony Stark?" Maria asked confused "Isn't he that annoying, reckless man who thinks he's smart just because he has money and who wears sunglasses at parties that take place at night?"

"You couldn't have described Stark better, Agent Hill." Fury nodded "That's why I need Agent Romanoff to infiltrate inside his company. You have all the information there. You're getting a new alias and your mission is to protect him as danger is too close to him right now. We need to take action or the next events will have a turn for the worst if we don't intervene in this." He explained before adding "For the whole globe, not just for Stark."

"Consider it done." Natasha nodded, accepting the mission

"I promise you both, you won't regret helping with this mission." Fury looked in between the two women

"We hope we won't, Sir." Maria squinted her eyes

And just like that, Fury turned around and left without adding any other word.

Maria peeked at the page where all the details about Natasha's new identity were and quickly scanned the page with her eyes, reading the important details.

"Well, I see he didn't think too much about a new name." Maria said teasingly "Come on! Natalie Rushman? He could do better than that. And you were supposed to be a model?" She chuckled "No way!"

"Oh, shut up." Natasha playfully smacked Maria's arm "Let's just leave the mission for another time, okay? I have enough time later to study this role."

"All right, Miss Rushman." Maria laughed, wrapping her arms around Natasha's shoulders while taking a gentle hold of Y/N's small hand "I think we had a movie to watch."

"Stitch!" You cheered excitedly

"Yeah, baby, Stitch!" Natasha lovingly smiled down at you as you all made your way back to the living room

—

That night, Maria lay awake in the bed she and her wife shared.

Natasha and their daughter were sound asleep as today's events drained them out of energy.

The brunette agent turned on her side with a sigh and scanned the faces of her two loves in the darkness.

"No one will ever be able to take you away from me." Maria whispered "I promise you both that we will forever be a family regardless of our past or of what other people might think about us."

Maria slowly leaned closer and kissed your cheek.

"You're so loved, Y/N." The brunette whispered in your ear "And so are you, Tasha." She also pressed a gentle kiss against Natasha's cheek "You're my blessings and I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have you both."

What happened today, helped not only Natasha and Maria, but also you, to realize how lucky you were to have each other and on how much love your small family was actually built on.

Maria vowed to fight until her last breath, just so she could keep you and Natasha safe, as her love for her girls knew no bounds.

And just as Stitch has said.

'Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.'

And a true family is built on love, not blood.

—

Permanent taglist: @lizlil , @mmmmokdok , @natsxwife , @lovelyy-moonlight , @observeowl , @froufrousnowman , @youralphawolf72 , @halstead-severide-fan , @daggersquadphantom , @circe143 , @ravensinthedaylight , @darkstar225 , @dannipotatoo , @justarandomreaderxoxo , @theunchosenonee , @cherlenovix

#mama nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha's child #natasha's kid #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x baby!reader #blackhill #maria hill x daughter #maria hill x daughter!reader #maria hill

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year ago

Note

Hey first of all, thank you for your writing! I enjoy reading your work a lot. I wanted to request an addition to the older sister! Reader AU where the avengers manage to catch a person who used to be a high ranking officer in the red room and has a lot of intel. They specifically requests to see reader. And reader goes in and the person is smug and taunts r about everything she did under dreykov and what dreykov did to r. (Hints to a lot of sexual assult trauma, if you dont mind) and r has gotten used to the taunts, having bward plenty during her red room days. Carol though who was outside in the interrogation room with r’s sisters is livid. She is very protective of r and so she comes inside the room angry. But as the person keeps taunting and saying demeaning stuff about r u still remain unaffected but carol cannot take it. I mean thats the idea I had, you could do whatever u want with it! Thanks again. And sorry for the longg request

Mine to Protect

Family is More Than Blood Masterlist

There things in this story that be triggering of people, please advise the warnings!

Warnings: heavy description of past sexual experiences (usage of handcuffs, voyeurisms, power dynamic, ) implied sexual assault (uses it to taunt the Reader and Carol), original male character uses pet names from the reader, gross dirty talk, past trauma mentioned, self harm, death of an original character, mention of killing, Carol is hella pissed this this and protective.

Relationships: Carol x Reader, Yelena x Natasha x Reader (Platonic), Avengers x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 3.0k

All of your life, you’ve known pain. The pain was physical suffering\ or discomfort. It caused great trouble, and it could be mental or physical. Pain in the Red Room was negative. It was mystery hands that held you down and took whatever they wanted from you. Hours spent at training, at the ballet bar, or forced to kill your fellow Widows because of an order given. You hated pain and all the negative thoughts that came with it.

However, your life changed. It wasn’t contained by the Red Room. You had room to grow, dream, and create the person Dreykov tried to destroy. Now, pain wasn’t always negative. There was pain that morphed into pleasure when Carol bit down on your neck and soothed it with her tongue; a warmth would fill your belly. Sometimes, you went a little too hard as you trained against Steve and felt each punch from the super soldier, but your laughter bounced off the walls. Other times, you brunt your hand when cooking with Wanda or lose an arm wrestling match with Maria. All that pain was good, a reminder that you were free.

You sat outside. The brisk New York fall air filled your lungs. There was an ache in your fingers as you played the guitar. It would take time for callouses to form on your fingers. You heard the door open and close, but it didn’t stop you from humming to the song you were playing. It was Steve, Tony, and Maria. Oh boy. Stopping, you put the guitar beside you and gave the trio your attention. “Why do I smell trouble?” You asked.

“It’s not me,” Tony said, sniffing under his arm. “I showered.” You rolled your eyes at the billionaire.

“Does the name Andrei Lebedev?” You kept your face neutral, but your stomach dropped. That name would forever be in your nightmares.

“Yes, he was part of Dreykov’s second ring. He disappeared when the Red Room fell. He’s been on Melina’s list, but we haven’t been able to locate and deal with him,” you explained.

“Deal with him?” Steve questioned. “So would kill him if you found him?” You huffed in frustration.

“Don’t act all high and mighty, Rogers. These men have power even with the Red Room gone; they are better off dead.” With a vacant spot, there was a fight to be at the top. You and some of the other freed Widows were working on eliminating them before they could gain momentum. You looked at Maria. “What’s going on?” She handed you a file.

“Lebedev was found in New Asgard,” you opened it and saw a mug shot. The man was 6 feet, 5 inches tall. He had striking blue eyes. Unlike the last time you saw him, his dark brown was longer instead of neatly combed. However, a faint beard outlining his jaw gave you the idea that he was going somewhere safe to shave. “He was looking for asylum, but Val thought he was acting odd and brought him in for questioning.”

“Once they learned who he was, Fury had him transferred to us for questioning,” Tony added. You handed back the file.

“What does this have to do with me?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“He won’t talk to anyone, not me, Maria, or Natasha,” Steve said. “He’s asking for you.” Fuck. Of course, he fucking was. God dammit. Why was Wanda away on a mission?

“What do we want from him?” You asked. Killing him would be the easiest solution.

“Fury wants whatever information we can get from him before sending him to the RAFT,” Maria explained. “Will you talk to him?” You sighed, stood up, and grabbed the guitar.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Sometimes you used pain to punish yourself. Your time at the tower was perfect. Self-inflected pain was the best tool you used to remind yourself of the past. Of the blood you shed and the countless lives ended by your hand.

On the other hand, pain helped ground you. A pinch of the skin on your thigh, biting down on your lip, or fingernails digging into your palm. Anything to help you stay present, preventing your mind from slipping away.

You stared at the door that separated you from him, nails digging into your palm. Your sisters and Carol will be watching. There was no fighting them on that. Sighing, you opened the door. “My malen’kiy pauk (little spider),” it had been a long time since you’ve heard someone call you that name. You closed the door. Immediately, pulling the chair away from the table to sit down. “I’ve missed you so much,” he continued. “But our last meeting was a little different,” he moved his handcuffed hands onto the table. The clash of metal echoed in the quiet room. “If I remember correctly, you were the one handcuffed. No matter to me,” he leaned forward. “I do love a change in a power dynamic.”

You crossed your arms against your chest, placed your right leg over your left, and leaned back into the chair. You remembered that day. Andrei Lebedev was part of Dreykov’s second circle or the vtoroy. These men were trusted as handlers and could leave the Red Room on missions or requests from Dreykov or his inner circle. But they were still seen as less than. They aimed to become part of the pervyy, the men closest to Dreykov. Although Dreykov was the face of the Red Room, it was impossible to run it without help. These men had the same amount of power as him; their word was God because you knew Dreykov knew about the order. A majority of the members of the party were killed in the Red Room explosion. The men you were after were part of the vtoroy. If the Red Room remained, Andrei would be part of the pervyy. He was a cable solider, a little hot-headed, but Dreykov would have crushed that spirit into submission. As a mission success, the pervyy granted Andrei’s request: a night with you. It wasn’t the only time you laid underneath this main.

“Being an Avenger looks good on you, kotenok (kitten). It fills you out nicely,” he groaned, licking his lips. “I bet you taste just as sweet. Do you want to be a good girl again? Just for me.” Still, you remained unfazed, face neutral. Men like this loved to talk, to inflate their ego with their sexual conquests. With time, he would reveal everything.

“I think about our time together a lot,” he smiled. “Your moans were music to my ears. They helped me through many lonely nights.” Lonely nights? The phrase stuck out to you for some reason. How many nights was he truly alone? He was freshly shaved and showered; you figured Val wouldn’t give him time alone to do all these things before locking him up. The man disappeared without a trace once the Red Room fell. Not even Melina, with her contacts, could find him. Andrei was bright but needed to be more smart to avoid capture. Who was helping him?

“Come on, baby,” he whined, mimicking a child throwing a tantrum. “Let me hear that voice again. You were very talkative when we last saw each other. I miss it,” his fingers tapped against the table. “Tell me, pretty, can anyone make you cum like I can?”

No one could see how your nails dug into your bicep, nails so sharp you knew it would pierce your skin. Pain. It grounded you, saved you from slipping into memories of that night, and kept your face stoic when all you wanted to do was scream.

As Carol recognized the true strength of her powers, she practiced keeping her emotions in check. Anger was powerful. Her rage could bring down skyscrapers, collapse entire planets, and turn the milky way into chaos if she wasn’t careful. Through her space travels, she witnessed horrible injustices that boiled her blood, ground her teeth, and left her fuming. Still, she kept her anger in check. However, she was struggling. The way this pig spoke to you was disgusting and vile, and you were just taking it. The only time Carol saw you move was when you first entered the room. She wasn’t sure if you were still breathing.

Unlike you, Natasha couldn’t stop pacing. She would get to one side of the viewing room, turn around, and repeat the process. Not even Maria could get her to stop; Carol believed it had to do with Natasha still being upset with her girlfriend. The youngest of the trio was quiet, playing with the ring all three of you shared. A quiet Yelena was never good, in Carol’s opinion. She saw the blonde tense up every time the man said something about her sister. Andrei laughed. “Why don’t you undo these cuffs? We can put on a show one more time before the cart me away. If I remember correctly, zaychonok (bunny), you loved having an audience,” he groaned, eyes rolling in the back of his head. “My little slut. It got you so wet.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Carol mumbled. All she saw was red. Unlike before, no one was there to protect you; no one was there to tell him to stop. But she was here now. You were hers to protect. She felt her powers itching at the palm of her hands, begging to let loose. It was getting harder to control it, this anger growing inside her. She knew he was still taunting you; maybe she heard Natasha or Maria’s voice, but it was becoming white noise. All of it was pointless besides one singular thought. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” To her surprise, no one stopped her when she left the room.

The door busting open startled you. The hinges barely had enough strength to keep it upright as your girlfriend entered the interrogation room, eyes glowing. Andrei was pulled to his feet and pinned to the wall by her forearm. You saw her entire body shaky. “Oh, is this the pet’s new master,” he teased. There was a shake in his voice as Carol was cutting off air into his lungs. “Tell me, do you pass her around like her old master, or do you keep her to yourself?”

“If you say one more word,” she hissed. “I will crush your windpipe.” You stood up, barely making a sound, but Andrei saw you.

“Oh, this is your lover, isn’t it?” He laughed, gasping slightly. “I’m jealous,” he taunted. “She is a gem—a queen among women. Tell me,” he whispered. “Can you make her scream like I can?”

“I won’t hesitate to paint this wall red with your blood,” you wanted her to do it so this nightmare could end. But it wasn’t the mission. “You can’t hurt her,” Carol continued, putting more pressure on his neck. The man gasped. “She is mine to protect, and I will kill all of you if I have to to keep her safe.” The man smiled, and for the first time entering this room, a chill went down your spine.

“Oh, you think with her living with Earth’s mightiest heroes, she’ll be safe; you are wrong.” Got him. It only took Carol intervening, but he was ready to talk. Gently, you placed a hand on Carol’s shoulder. Her eyes flickered to you.

“It’s okay,” you forced a smile. “Let him go.” You saw the internal debate happen in her eyes. Soon, she released him and threw him back into the chair.

“Power dynamic,” he said, rubbing his throat. A bruise was already forming. “I guess I was wrong about you two.” You sighed and sat down, this time closer to the table. Carol closed the door but stayed in the room, standing in the corner. Your arms were still crossed, and your nails again found the indent in your arm. “You got yourself an impressive guard dog over there. She needs a lesson in obedience.”

“I don’t own her, and she doesn’t own me,” you said. “Who helped you avoid detection after all this time?” He gasped.

“I’m offended you don’t think I could do it alone.”

“You aren’t smart enough, Lebedev,” you deadpanned. “So give me names, or my guard dog will attack.” His eyes glanced at Carol in the corner, and you saw him gulp in fear. Instead of talking, he leaned forward, faces inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your skin. A sharp pinch of your skin kept you present.

“Answer me this, kotenok (kitten). Do you feel safe here?”

“Is that a threat?” You countered.

“Merely a question,” he said. “Do you feel safe here with your sisters close by, Captain America as an ally, and Tony Stark’s super fancy AI keeping watch?” He slammed his hands down, but the sound didn’t scare you. Your nails dug deeper. “Do you feel safe?” He asked again. “Because Oriel Sergeev wasn’t the only person upset when the Red Room fell from the sky.” Oriel Sergeev? He was the man who created that ‘fun’ room.

“Who is helping you?” You asked again. He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in the chair.

“I don’t kiss and tell; you should know that. The Red Room provided stability, a balance, and you and those cunts you call sisters broke it,” your jaw clenched. He huffed out a laugh at your reaction. “It’s only a matter of time before bad girls like you get punished.”

You watched Maria and a few other agents lead Andrei to transport. A body collided with you that almost sent you falling to the ground, but Carol’s arm kept you upright. It was Yelena. Her jasmine scent perfume invaded your senses, grounding you further. “Ugh,” you groaned. “I hated that. I hated the way he talked to you.” You chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

“You aren’t the only one,” Natasha said, and you looked past Yelena as the redhead joined the small group. “Carol beat me to it. I was about to go in there and kick his ass.” You heard Carol laugh behind you, kissing the side of your head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m,” you stopped before you lied to them. “No, but I will be,” you sighed, ending the hug with Yelena. “I think I need a shower, then I’ll start feeling better.”

“Do you want me to join you?” Carol asked. You shook your head.

“I just need a moment by myself,” you smiled. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” As you turned to walk back to your room, Yelena grabbed your hand. Spinning you back around and flipping your arm to show everyone the cut on your arm.

“Your bleeding,” she said, and you pulled your arm back.

“It’s nothing, and it will heal by the time I get in the shower,” you saw the unasked questions from all three of them. “I needed to ground myself when I was in there with him. That’s all. I promise I’m okay, and I’ll come to you guys if I need anything.”

A towel was tightly secured around your body as you stepped out of the bathroom. You hated the way his words crawled underneath your skin. No matter how frequently you scrubbed your skin raw, you felt his hands on you. There was a part of you that wanted to track down his escort van and kill him, to watch his blood stain the pavement. Or maybe have Melina take care of it. But you knew if one of the Widows took the job, it would get traced back to you. Still wet from the shower, you sat on your bed and picked up your phone. The number you dialed wasn’t saved in your phone. It was a number you had memorized as Widows kept giving it to you. She answered on the second ring. “My favorite Black Widow,” she said. “What do I owe the pleasure? Have you considered my offer?” You sighed.

“No, Valentina, I’m still not joining your team. I need a favor.” You were speaking as you could hear cars driving by.

“I’m not a charity, darling. Favors will cost you/” You nodded.

“I know, and I’m willing to pay for it,” you stood up and walked into your closet. “I need to put on a hit. His name is Andrei Lebedev. He is currently in SHIELD custody and on his way to the RAFT. I need it done without using any of the Widows you have employed, and not a single agent hurt.” Valentina laughed.

“You are making a lot of demands for someone not in charge,” you dropped the towel and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.

“I always repay my debts, you know this?” This wasn’t the first time you’ve asked a favor from her. Her contacts ran deeper than Melina’s, and in this world, information was valuable. But you knew she would do it and come back to you when she needed something. The Widows that worked for her always told you what they did. You had enough dirt to bury the director, but it would hurt your fellow Widows.

“This will cost you, but I’ll get it done.”

“Thank you.”

“Aw, don’t go getting soft on me,” you rolled your eyes. “My offer is always on the table for you. That will never expire,” you huffed.

“Bye, Valentina.” You hung up the phone before she could respond. You refused to join her every time she asked, even when she proclaimed how much money you could make with your skill set. You feared it would be impossible to say no to her one day.

Two days passed when Maria announced that Andrei Lebedev was killed; no agents were hurt in the ambush. The agent’s eyes never left yours when she told everyone the news. Maybe it was bad you didn’t care if she believed you or not when you claimed you had no part in his death—effortlessly passing blame to whoever helped him. His death was one you never lost sleep over. Like you told Steve, these men were better off dead.

#family is more than blood au #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x y/n #black widow sisters #yelena belova x natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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melit0n · 1 year ago

Text

Half-Starved

- Synopsis: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was born hungry. Born with a relentless nagging feeling curled up right between his oesophagus and the squirming muscle of his stomach. From the very moment Simon opened his eyes, he was hungry for something he could never have; affection. But then there's you. The night owl so willing to offer the one thing he can't have.

And he finds that he'd bleed out if you told him you liked the colour red.

- Oneshot

- Obsessive! Ghost/Reader

- Word Count: 3.7k

- Warnings: Descriptions of gore, canabalism as a metaphor for love, mentions of past domestic abuse, implied past sexual assult, implied stalking

- Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52474849

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was born hungry.

Born with a relentless nagging feeling curled up right between his oesophagus and the squirming muscle of his stomach. From the very moment Simon opened his eyes, he was hungry for something he would never have. Left to starve in the gloom of the locked cupboard he was shoved into for not shutting up. He spent fifteen-odd years greedy for any drop of affection he could get. Anything he could grasp and hold onto, no matter how many bruises it would leave him with. No matter how long he would have to spend chained up like a bad dog in the corner of his room licking his wounds telling himself that it was worth it. That the blood was worth it. The pain was worth it.

Anything to be acknowledged.

Now, once again finding comfort in the gloom of his home, he is still hungry. Even more so.

To him, touch is a fragile subject. A broken subject he hates talking about because of him.

Gunfire and stab wounds are nothing in the face of a father’s punch. Intimate, innocent digits can still feel like creeping, coercive hands.

Yet, a fasting man’s stomach still growls.

Fragile subject or not, he still craved it. Maybe too much. He wanted, wants, to be held tight enough so he doesn’t break. Wants to be vulnerable. But he’s still afraid he’ll end up being a scared kid looking into the slit eyes of a snake again.

He blames his younger self for the predicament he’s found himself in. Wants sit down with the kid and shake him by the shoulders and ask why. Why he put himself through that for that long.

Even so, he can’t blame him.

He knows how hungry he is now; feels the scraping like dull claws against the soft spot between his liver and his spleen. He can only imagine what it was like for him as a child.

He’s blocked most of those memories out now, though.

He sits through the tugging, the pulling, through each dull meeting. Each dark night spent alone in his bunk. Each evening he spends licking wounds that just won't close.

Unfortunately, this issue, this dilemma, is a hard one to fix. A hard want to satiate. His callsign is well earned, afterall. Sometimes even he blurs the lines of the dead man walking and the human being hidden behind layers of constantly taught muscle and scarred skin. Makes it a bit hard to gain attention other than fear and unease, let alone affection.

But then there’s you.

The first word that would come to his mind is kind.

Out of the blue, draped in moonlight and glimmering stars, you appear, seemingly out of nowhere. But, you’re here. And there. And everywhere, really.

He sees you in the local corner shop, holding tightly onto the sleeve of whoever you’ve brought along.

He doesn’t see their face. Too obscured by the dim lighting

He sees you on the train, and occasionally on the bus: brushing your hand, intently, against that of your work friend’s. You both take the same one into the city, bright and early hoping to miss the morning crowd but never succeeding.

He doesn’t see their face, either.

Bit by bit, he begins to notice things. Notice habits that shouldn’t be his to examine.

You use physical affection as not only a way to show affection itself, platonic or romantic–he isn’t particularly good at guessing unless it’s glaringly obvious–but as a form of comfort and encouragement as well.

In less than a month into his leave, you’ve managed to become a staple in his civilian life.

He sees you in the morning, always at the train station with breakfast and lunch in hand, looking quizzically around to see if you’ve missed your train like a doubtful deer.

He knows you know you haven’t. You’re like him; you’ve got an obsession with time.

While his is instilled by the harsh words of the military, yours is brought about by a tight work schedule. And maybe something else. He wonders what that something else is as you both board the already stuffed train, both standing in the same carriage full of warm, already tired bodies.

He sees you in the afternoon as well, sitting outside on a park bench with a friend and eating lunch. While you talk, you have a habit of taking tiny crumbs off of your sandwich, flicking them off to the ratty pigeons that flock around your feet like moths to a flame.

You always have the same lunch; the same sandwich bread from the same corner shop with the same filing. You have a thing with regularity, routine, as well, it seems.

Just like him.

Of course, he sees you in the evenings too. You both take the same train home, and almost always end up so close yet so far from each other on the carriage. Your work friend gets off at the stop two before yours and Simon’s; always leaving you with a pat on the shoulder and a closed eye smile, which you almost always return.

You have a habit of jumping, ever so slightly, when you get off the train. Simon finds it quite cute. It’s almost as if you’re actually afraid of the gap.

Of the fall.

Either way, you part ways without knowing you’re parting from him, leaving you missing from him, and head back to your home. Ghost has an impulse to follow you, spurred on by a mix of curiosity at where you live and wanting to make sure you’re safe.

From what, Simon doesn’t truly know.

He almost does. Stands awkwardly in front of the station watching your figure turn into a small dot, but Simon urges himself to head home. To sleep.

You linger in his thoughts each time he walks back.

At first, he’s oddly amazed, a bit in awe, if he were honest, that you can give so much affection so easily, touch so easily, and receive it tenfold from the people around you.

Then, there’s annoyance, titering on the fine, chipped-away line of anger. Like a mantra, he asks why it’s fair someone can give, give and keep on giving, let alone receive something back, and he can’t? How can you hold someone so closely and not be afraid of a knife in your back?

Maybe that’s Ghost talking, he thinks.

Eventually, he falls off the flimsy line of annoyance and anger and into the muddied trench that is jealousy. Jealous not only of you, how you can give and receive so easily, but of the people in your life who get to experience the affection that you give to any warm body that passes by you. Said people who don’t understand how precious and rare that experience is to others.

To him.

He wants to taste it. Badly.

Then, it morphs. Twists and turns like a dying thing, all red with chunks of fur sticking at odd angles, into attraction. Turning from a want to be held, a quiet plea to the God they taught him about in primary school for you to keep him together for just a little bit longer, to a need. A need to kiss until both your lips are bloody and raw, bitten and chewed like a pomegranate, seeping your liquid life for him to drink as an elixir.

He’s seen the way you kiss, and God above he needs it. Needs you. He doesn’t care if it’s the fleeting, platonic kisses you gift to your friends on the cheek (he wants you to take a chunk out of his cheek. Wants you to chew on the fat like the gum you always have in your mouth), or if it’s the rough ones you give to the people you bring home. The ones that have them chasing your lips for more, which you always allow because you never stop giving.

Simon wants it. Ghost needs it.

Consequently, the dull scratching of the claws in between his liver and his spleen grows sharper. After years of the scratching, the pulling, the tugging, he’d thought his hunger pang’s talons had grown weary, thought he’d grown accustomed, but he feels them. Feels the sharp pang like a pistol’s bullet and it bloody hurts. Has him hunched over on his bed trying to claw out his stomach because, for the first time in years, it's hurting him.

And, for the first time in years, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley decides to listen.

As more time passes, more time spent getting soaked outside your house in the rain waiting for you to come home because you’re oddly late for all the time he’s known you, it changes again. Writhes around in his stomach and the fat in his veins, to something much worse. Much more harmful, at least, to you. In all the pain of his hunger, he contemplates taking chunks out of you. Maybe that will satiate the creature that squirms in his bloody viscera, laying claim to all of his innards in an attempt to get him to feed for once in his life.

He wants, needs, hungers to feel the comforting weight of your blood in the bottom of his stomach.

Zoning out during meetings easily turns to daydreaming of taking one of his hunting knives to your flesh. Cut strips of skin, like you’re his sacrificial lamb to slaughter and devour, and finally put those butchering skills he gained to work somewhere other than on the field.

He promises he’ll be delicate. Promises he’ll be kind. Promises Simon, and not Ghost.

Promises Simon, who’s more corpse than he likes to think.

He can’t help but imagine how you’d cry when he’d do so. Fat tears dribbling down your soft cheeks and getting caught in the corners of your lips.

He hates hearing people cry.

In his dreams and his waking hours, he’s endlessly followed, stalked, haunted by the echoing sobs of someone lost to him in some distant sun-stunned, sand-smothered land.

But you?

He doesn’t mind one bit.

It’s another piece of you for him to consume, another piece of you that you can offer to him–gift to him–to bring you two together.

He knows, God knows he knows, how much it takes to be vulnerable. He doesn’t think he’d be able to describe what he’d do to taste your tears. To savour your salty sadness upon his tongue and be able to offer comfort. To lick your face dry and hold you in his arms; warm body against warm body just like he’s daydreamed about.

The more time that passes, the further he falls.

On slightly rarer occasions, ones where he’s alone in the leaden quiet of his room for longer than a human, a soldier, should be, he thinks about feeding your own lovingly cooked gore to you. Get’s him more riled up than he’d like to admit.

At first, it’s a blurry image. Murky and obscured by a civilian subconscious that tries to remind him of who he is. But, slowly, it dissipates. Becomes as clear as a mirror reflection: a candle-lit dinner, like the one’s his mum had in the pictures that used to hang on the wall. Warm lighting. He’s tried his hardest to cover up the smell of his cigarettes for you, a scent that clings to his walls like mould. Hopes that the smell of whatever he’s cooked for you overwhelms it.

Soup sounds good, doesn’t it, ey?

It’s a macabre yet intimate fairytale that finds its way into his thoughts when all else is quiet. Leaves him tossing and turning in his bed because the scraping just won't stop. He swears he's bleeding out from the inside, and he’ll break his own kneecaps from how long he’s been on the floor at your feet begging you to make it stop. To stop the scratching, the itching, the nagging feeling. For you to clean and stitch up his wounds, new and old.

Quickly, he finds he’s utterly enamoured with the thought. Obsessed with it the way Price does with his plans. Fixated on the idea of being that close to another human being. To be able to physically intertwine each other’s cells through mutual consumption. To be sewn into the quantum patterns of your being. For you to feed him a proper meal like his parents never could.

He remembers being taught in his History class–the one with the old hag of a teacher who, with her droning words alone, convinced him not to take it for GCSEs–that in some old, archaic civilisations, people used to eat each other as well. Cooked an arm or a hand for their lover as a promise. A promise that in life, and eventually in death, the two of them would share an utterly unique bond. Eternally linked to each other's souls.

If he were honest, he didn’t listen for shit in those lessons. Only really paid attention when they had a sub, and even then half the class was too rambunctious for anything to really get taught. The only reason he remembers was because his mates joked about Victorians eating long-dead mummies like it was a five-star meal for weeks after that lesson. The joke got old quickly, but it stuck with him.

Even so, Ghost decides he could die happy on the field–layered in mud and blood that wasn’t his–knowing that a part of you was anatomically intertwined with him. That, even when he was dead and gone, probably much earlier than he should be, you two would still be connected. He would have a piece of you, and you him.

And you, him. It’s another idea that stays with him, plagues his mind and every meal he eats: mutual consumption.

He decides he doesn’t mind extra scars, extra wounds, because he knows you’ll lick them clean for him. Knows you wash them, stitch them up and check on them so they heal properly.

In the end, that is the intimacy he dreams of. The affection he wants from someone. Wants from you.

His body is yours, as yours is his. So let him be yours. Give him that chance. Let him feed. Let him fulfil you.

The idea leaves him with a small smirk on his face, one he doesn’t do well to hide. One that has Soap nudging him in the ribs for with a prodding grin of his own.

So, he makes a decision. For once, Simon and Ghost agree on something and work together as one, instead of turning the other off for the greater good.

The decision? To feed.

To finally know what it is like to be full instead of half-starved.

The scraping, the nagging, only grows stronger.

He makes it a point to bump into you as much as he can before his next mission.

Anywhere is a dinner table to him. On the crowded train, brushing his rough hand against yours to ease the hunger for even a second. In the artificial lighting of the run-down corner shop, grabbing that bag of snacks that are just out of reach for you. ‘Accidently’ bumping shoulders with you on the pavement. That one allows him to talk to you, too.

If only for a moment.

All he wants is anything. Anything will do. But it only temporarily satiates the pang, doesn’t satisfy it. He just gets hungrier and hungrier and hungrier.

He knows you’ve begun to notice him. You’re getting hungry too. He just hopes it’s in the same way he hungers for you.

He hopes you’re hungry for him, and him alone.

At first, you attempt to offer him platonic comfort, which, God above, tastes so sweet. You offer soft touches on his shoulder. You gift fingers intertwining with his own as you cross the street to his home because he’s gone off on another bender trying to stop turning over in his bed and seeing the inside of a coffin that he has to dig his way out of again.

‘N you’re just some poor night owl who’s trying to be kind.

It becomes a routine. Both for you and him. You know he’ll come out of the pub at quarter to one and you know he’s expecting you. You’ll walk the same walk to his home, fumbling with his keys as he looks at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man, hands intertwined. You’ll still carry him home and close the door softly with your foot as you lay him on his couch and get him a glass of water and whatever painkiller he has lying around. You’ll still stay as he chats, drunkenly, to you. You’ll take care of him and he’ll be whole, for just a moment.

At least until the morning comes, anyways.

He begins to hate the sunrise. Hate the light and the work and the people which drag you away from him.

He hungers for your touch the same way water hungers for the cavities of people’s lungs. Hungers for your skin like he hungers for the nicotine in his cigarettes. Hungers and begs and pleads until you both fall like Icarus; wax melting and dripping off your backs as you try and crawl your way back to the sun, back to the light, while he drags you down into the depths of the deep blue. Keeps you tight in his embrace so you can’t disappear into the blue again. Disappear like the moon and the stars that hide their fires and fade away when the sun comes up.

It's almost poetic.

In the midst of your drowning, the front door opening startles you out of your stupor.

You do that a lot, Simon notes. You’ll black out and stare at a wall blankly for hours, either in dead silence or to some piece of music too quiet for him to know the name of. He doesn’t question it. Verbally, at least.

From how easily you dissociate, he’d say it’s something you picked up a long time ago. He’ll find out when, eventually.

He knows the face of it, afterall. The blank eyes that see nothing and everything. He isn’t wrong to wonder what you’re thinking about, or what memory plays on loop that keeps you a temporarily vacant statue.

Sometimes, something small in him wonders if he's the cause of it.

Then he remembers he’s human. He’s human and it’s normal to seek affection, and he carries on eating.

Carefully, you get up from the couch, approaching him as he walks over to the kitchen counter. The blue plastic bag he has rustles loudly in the spotless kitchen.

“What’s that?” You ask, gently, placing a hand on his shoulder to get a better look.

Please give me more.

He lets out a knowing grunt and pulls out two round, red fruits. At first, you mistake them for apples, but the star-shaped top throws you off.

“Pomegranates?”

He nods, looking into your eyes for some sort of approval.

Gingerly, you take one of the pomegranates out of his hand, his fingers twitching as the pads of your digits brush against his.

I’ll take anything you give.

Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the fruit as you do so, careful to earn his compliance as you inspect the fruit.

Just please give me more.

They’re a deep red, almost crimson, and the shine reflects your face on its vermilion skin.

“Chopping board,” He pauses. “Please?”

Nodding absent-mindedly, you place the fruit back into his cupped hands.

You open the drawer behind the both of you and pull out an old chopping board, red soaked and stained into the wood that Ghost just can’t seem to get out. You place it on the counter next to the pomegranates, along with a clean bowl he didn’t even hear you grab, and then find your way to the knife block. Hearing the subtle shink of a blade against wood, Ghost turns and scrutinises you as you try to remember which knife is the fruit knife.

Choosing the shortest one, you hold it by the handle, facing downwards just like Simon taught you, and place it on top of the chopping board with stitched-up hands and missing fingers from all the times he’s begged for more. From all the times you’ve said you have nothing more to give, but he knows you always have more. Knows you’ll always keep giving.

I’ll take even the spare and broken bits. The parts you don’t even want.

You watch, intently, as he delicately cuts the top of the pomegranate off, slicing through the thick skin.

Just look at me.

Gently, he peels the layers of the pomegranate back, kissing each one with the tips of his fingers, letting it stain them something beautifully violent.

Touch me.

He reveals the soft viscera inside, glancing back over to you again and again. Looking for something in your eyes.

Let me be full.

Then, he cuts it into quarters–continuously surprising you how gentle he is with it–but not down to the skin. Leaving it in a filleted star-like shape, he turns it upside down on the bowl, and, using his hand, slowly shakes the seeds off of the fruit into the bowl.

Once he’s finished, sure he’s got all of the seeds off, he moves onto the next. Repeats the same process. Maybe he repeats the same thoughts, too.

After he’s done, he sets the empty corpses aside. The red spills out onto the counter. You’re worried it’ll drip down onto the tile.

He’s staring. Not at you, but at the bowl of red. It’s almost eerie, how still, how quiet he can become.

The silence is deafening. You want to fill it.

Suddenly, he takes a bloody scoop of the red viscera with his hands.

Be full.

Lets the pinkish liquid dribble down his hand.

Let me fill you, and in turn, you me.

Then his forearm.

Feed on me until there is nothing left.

Then down onto the immaculately clean counter.

Let us decompose, intertwined.

The kitchen smells like bleach. It makes the back of your throat itch.

He offers his hands out towards you, like an olive branch, like some lurid type of eucharist, and, like the obedient dog you are, you feast.

Please. Please. Please, please, please, please-

“I love you.” He mumbles, fondly watching the muscle of your tongue dart out to catch the pinkish juice dribbling from your frothing maw.

-just say you love me, too.

You’re eating, and you begin to repeat it, but Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has taught you well not to speak with your mouth full.

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

I've spent the past week hearing 'Abbey' by Mitski at every turn, so it's safe to say that was the main force driving me to write this lmao. I'm pretty sure that if I heard that song or saw something about bloody pomegranates one more time I would've started chewing the flesh off of my own bones.

Cannibalism as a metaphor for love is an incredibly profound, and, in some ways, poetic literature device for the sheer destruction a toxic relationship can cause, so, I wanted to try my hand at it! And also to stop myself from clawing my face off from hearing anything about this cannibalism metaphor from literally everywhere on the internet.

Do tell if this feels too out of character for Ghost. I originally planned this for König, but I ended up changing it. Overall, thank you for sitting down and reading my work! It means a lot <3

I'll leave it up to you if the metaphor is really a metaphor in the end.

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