#pep talk radio

[peptalkradio]

[smalltown-drifter]

It just feels like I'm starting my life over from nothing, is the thing. I'm a person I don't recognize because I've spent my whole life being someone I wasn't. But you know, I'm really starting to get to know myself and... I like this new guy. :) I do. And only the privileged few will get to know him. The ones who've caused me pain will be missing out.

[steddieasitgoes]

Okay I’m halfway through The Dustin Experiment and here are some fun snippets you might consider using in fics/art:

- Dustin occasionally going with Steve and Robin to their after school Family Video shifts to hang out with them

- Steve lets the kids rent movies without actually running it through the system and Robin hates it because of the Karate Kid incident

- The jocks are genuinely afraid of Eddie

- Eddie and Dustin hit it off after Dustin fixes Eddie’s Walkman and later his amp

- Dustin and Suzie have radio dates twice a week and they even started their own book club

- Eddie made Dustin a mix tape full of metal songs “because man cannot live on Weird Al alone”

- Robin likes to launch paper footballs at Steve’s head while he’s restocking

- Claudia loves her son so much she doesn’t care that he continuously blows the power of the whole house

- Robin offers to mediate for Dustin and Lucas since they’re not talking

- Steve’s Saturdays are “booked weeks in advance”

- Dustin ask Eddie to drive him to Indy and says “Help me, Eddie-Wan Kenobi” ; Eddie is not amused

- Dustin learns Max moved to Forest Hills after he leaves Eddie’s house and spots her

- Robin DOES mediate between the boys and makes them do trust falls which she makes Steve help her demonstrate

- Steve is apparently afraid of a show called Turbo Teen

- Dustin (and all the boys) write to Will to the point where he knows what’s going on including hellfire and Lucas’s basketball try outs

- Will even sends Dustin a sketch title card for his science fair poster

- Eddie is afraid of ducks because they’re “pure evil” and “have eyes that can look into your soul and do irreparable psychic damage”

- Dustin’s dad cheated on Claudia and when they divorced they moved back to Hawkins

- Eddie gives Dustin a pep talk when he’s nervous about the science fair and tells him it’s okay to be nervous and that he still gets nervous before gigs

- Eddie told an entire group of science fair kids a scary story

[colourstreakgryffin]

I had a silly idea, what about an Cheshire Cat!reader x Alastor? (Feel free not to do this dearie ( ·∀·) )

Haha. OMFG. A Cheshire Cat would really match with Alastor well! So, thank you, Lady Beelzebub! I’ll try this out!

Alastor- A Little Game

Vaggie has been so frustrated. Charlie has been trying to ease the crew. Husk is on the verge of murdering somebody. Niffty is annoyed that her cleaning equipment is gone. Angel is quite amused by what’s going on and Alastor is very invested in the cause

Lately, the Hazbin Hotel has been dealing with a suddenly appearing invisible menace causing pranks after pranks nonstop; locking or trapping up doors, stealing items and storing them high up, whispering out in the halls at night

Alastor didn’t suspect he’d ever run into the culprit of all this trouble but he has. After Charlie had been giving Vaggie a calmdown pep talk, the Princess politely asked Alastor to check around the hallways for any more prank remnants, the Overlord did so, just to see what he may find… and he made a incredible discovery

A floating cat-like sinner with magenta and pink colouring, most importantly, a big Cheshire wide grin. A rival of Alastor’s own smile and with almost half a body, as if cut in half

The sinner was in the midst of setting up a trap consisting a big silver bucket full of thick blood over the top of Alastor’s own hotel room door, but they’ve been caught in the act

And Alastor doesn’t plan on dealing out punishment… he’s too amused

“Ah… you must be the little troublesome beast causing so much disrupt in this Hotel?” Alastor asks almost immediately with literally no malice towards what’s been going on, his transatlantic accent smooth and almost making his voice sound more friendly and warm than he actually is as this cat sinner… or otherwise, you

Just giggles under your breath and disappears into thin air properly with the wide grin floating in the air for a few seconds almost magically before dissipating with you

“And if I have?” Your voice rings out after a few more seconds of silence, disembodied, invisible. You can’t be tracked with eyes but Alastor’s powerful magic can pinpoint where you are by detecting your own demonic magic, sharply looking over his shoulder to be greeted with your floating head

Just your head… no body, it’s like before when it was half of your torso. Now, it’s just your head. Your magic is a lot like the storybook fairytale character, Cheshire Cat

But that’s because you’re the most Cheshire Cat person anybody will ever met. Alastor couldn’t help but be so amused by you; you’re skilled, you’re snarky, you know what you’re doing and you’re resourceful, good at planning

Able to have avoided being caught by everybody in the Hotel for months now and you’re lucky enough to have been caught by the one member who enjoyed the chaos and madness the pranks caused

“I believe you must avoid the others if so” Alastor proclaims, almost mysterious and still silky in that radio-laced but classy and dapper tone as you tilt your head confused. For the first time, you’ve been snapped out of your mischievous chaotic demeanour

You suspected him to bark, to growl, to be annoyed so him not is so odd to you but quickly brushing it off, you manifest your whole body into frame. Cute fluffy striped cat-like ears flicking and long fluffy cat-like tail curling around, almost like a coil spring

You couldn’t really understand this Overlord, something you don’t like. You’d prefer people to be confused by you, by your style of insanity and madness, by your enjoyment of causing so much disorder and high-tension emotions

You were about to speak, basically floating over his shoulder before Alastor beats you to the punch. You can’t tell if you’ll like him or despise him with the way he speaks, almost condescending

“If you’re going to make my project topsy-turvy, I suggest do a better prank”

[sugoi-writes]

Morning! I have a little silly idea for Alastor x Reader and wanted to share :D

Reader is stressed over some big event that is about to happen in the Hotel (like idk maybe they're throwing a ball or some gala to encourage more sinners to check in) and while she's giving a pep talk to everyone she absentmindedly starts fixing Alastors bowtie/coat/hair and everyone expects him to snap at you (you two were more of rivals than friends) but instead he smiles at you softly and fixes your necklace. You two only realize what you did when Angel "quietly" asks as a joke when did the two of you get married 😅

Sorry this took so long!!! I hope this is doing your prompt a little bit of justice! Please enjoy!!!

No warnings for this one, really! Just some good old fluff and pining (which I DESPERATELY need to work on, HAHA--)

♥️♥️♥️

Everything was hung in place, not a tassel or a drape awry. The decorations and accents, deep reds and lush golds, adorned every surface you could see. It was... gaudy. But it was perfect.

When all was said and done, you clasped your hands together, a triumphant smile on your face. Charlie, being the sweetheart she was, tasked you with orchestrating the grand-reopening ball. She had to admit, it was nice to throw the reigns to someone else for a while. She definitely got some MUCH needed time alone with Vaggie, who was also more than willing to take a backseat.

Your voice cut through the chatter like a knife, silence behalfing the room with your address," Alright... guys, everything looks great. The place looks perfect. Everyone is looking--"

As your eyes flit about the hotel residents, you spy a freshly-apparated Alastor, who was... off. Physically, you mean. You squint for a moment, spying three things: Hair, Bowtie, Handkerchief.

"Sh-Sharp... everyone looks sharp."

Without thinking, you marched right up to the Radio Demon, collective gasps around the room as you touched him. Looks of bewilderment, horror, and amusement surrounded you both. You were preening him, adjusting him... unannounced? With no physical repercussions? How were you still alive?

Both hands shimmied the black bowtie into place," The music is covered, thank you for the recommendations, Alastor--"

"Anytime, dear," he quipped, not flinching in the slightest. His eyes were trained forward, avoiding eye contact as you pat his chest. Charlie's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her skull as you pulled out the handkerchief, refolding and placing it back into Alastor's breast pocket. Another, resolute tap to his chest, and Angel's brain was short circuiting.

"Right-- like I was saying, everything is PERFECT. I need everyone on their BEST behavior when the doors open-- you especially, Angel. Everyone has their roles--"

Angel squinted, pouting as he shifted his weight... His head cocked to the side with a smirk, as if to say 'speak for yourself'! You strained onto your tiptoes, fluffing and adjusting Alastor's fringe, completely oblivious. There was a tinge of hair gel in Alastor's crimson, which surprised you. He had really gone the extra mile... albeit, still a little under perfect. Or maybe, you had just never noticed how much effort he put into his appearance?

"Niffty: keep an eye on the buffet and clean any and all messes. Angel, intel and vibe-checker. We have some big-wigs coming tonight, and I'm sure we could weasel our way into their good graces-- Make sure they're drinking, eating, dancing-- yknow!!! Having a good time!"

Alastor leans his head down for you, allowing easier access to his hair. You silently thank him, your tangent continuing," Charlie, Vaggie: you know the drill. Get them hooked on this place. Give them the razzle-dazzle to get them to stay. Lucifer, sir, you're in charge of the fireworks. I'm sure you have something ENTIRELY too bombastic for this, but-- just try not to scare anyone off tonight, sir???"

Lucifer, though still flabbergasted, gave you a pair of finger guns. This was his way of giving silent acknowledgement.

"Husk, of course: you're on drink detail. The more booze, the looser these guys get. The more likely they'll cave and stay the evening or become a patron--"

You blinked as warm hands were on your collarbone, adjusting your necklace. Though your face burned brightly, you didn't utter a word as Alastor finished his adjustments, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You looked up towards him, a friendly smile shot your way.

No words were exchanged, just smiles. You nod to Alastor, before turning to face the crowd. You weren't expecting to see looks of confusion and shock: everyone looked like deer in headlights. You sigh, chuckling a bit as you crossed your arms," C'mon guys, I know everyone is nervous about reopening to the public today, but we've got this!!! Seriously, everything is absolutely perfect now and--"

"If I can cut in real quick, toots-- are we plannin' a weddin'?" Angel retorts, fanning his hand back and forth between you and the Radio Demon.

"I mean-- not that I'm complainin', but y'gotta warn a guy first. I would've worn somethin' else for such a special day~"

You blink, utterly confused, before it finally clicked. You sputter dramatically, eyes wide and face heated from the implications," I don't-- I don't know what you mean, Angel--"

"Oh honey, we aren't BLIND. Admit it, you're mackin' with Tall, Dark, McNasty. And honestly, I get it. Chase your dreams or whateva. It's kinda cute~"

There were murmurs from the other crew, loosely agreeing to Angel's sentiments.You take a step forward to say something, before a hand clamps onto your shoulder. Your face only grew warmer as Alastor stepped in front of you. His pleasant smile strained, his annoyance further proven by his left, twitching eye.

"Now now, let's not lead the night with accusations and gossip-- though I'm usually a big fan myself~," Alastor mused, his grin widening.

" I'm afraid you all have the wrong idea-- I was just simply making sure everything was perfect. Just as our party host is." Alastor turns to you now, his smile softening," And that's exactly what tonight will be, with you at the helm: perfectly executed."

Angel snorts, leaning over towards Husk as he covers his mouth. A hushed whisper and an eyebrow wiggle are thrown his way," Oh, they're DEFINITELY fuckin'~"

You nearly shrieked as you cover your face with both hands, frustrated," Shut up, shut up, just-- UGH. L-Let's get to our battle stations, guys-- doors open in FIVE MINUTES," you bark. The nervous energy in the hall multiplies before dispersing, as everyone made themselves busy. It was very clear that everyone was trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and failing miserably). You do your best not to smudge your polished appearance as you turn on your heel, making your way towards the bar.

Immediately, you give it a knock, two fingers out. Husker nods, pouring you a double shot of your preferred poison. Swiftly swallowing the elixir of courage, you felt some of the embarrassment melt away. A familiar presence appears beside you, mimicking your knock and drink order. You sigh as Alastor's hand comes into your line of sight, eyes naturally following it as he swirled his drink, before downing it. You couldnt help but focus on the bob of his adam's apple, before you had the decency to look away. Alastor grinned down to you, tilting his head.

"Still troubled by their words, dear?"

You groan," D-Don't call me that, Alastor... Angel's going to feel like he's right," you reply, holding the bridge of your nose. Alastor laughs, leaning against the counter," Oh come now, I'm sure this whole mess will roll off your back by night's end~" Alastor teases, jazz hands accenting his playfuk tone. You groan again, frustrated," UGH, no, if HE'S distracted by that, EVERYONE here will be-- I just-- I don't wanna cause any unnecessary attention. 'For EITHER of us. You have your gambit for tonight, and I have mine... We need this to go WELL, not to be the talk of the town..."

Alastor leans against the counter, back pressing into it as he looks your way. Normally, he would continue to goad you into a precious, pathetic mess, but the look on your face felt too... troubled. You really were overthinking things, his eye catching the way you bit your lip.

The two shots he ingested already softened his edge, his head lolling to the other side," ...'a little advice, then?" You look over at Alastor, surprised by the change of subject.

"Sure. Might as well," you quip, resting your chin on your hand as Husk whisks away your empty glasses.

"If you walk around the room like your hair is on fire, the entire operation goes up in flames... This is commonly seen in management, but works just the same here," Alastor states, pretending to be fascinated with his talons.

"And truly, for tonight, you are the leader, the ringmaster of this event... the others will ask questions, and look to you for guidance. If you walk around like everything is going to fail, then it is destined to. So perk up!" Alastor's hand finds your chin, forcing you to look his way. Your breath catches for a moment, your eyes settling on his face. It was flushed, warm... and a hint of something you can't describe. He was being unreasonably chaste. Is this what Mimzy meant by "sweet as a kitten"?

"I think everything will go as it should, as long as you keep a cool head, dear. And if you can't, well...," Alastor grins as he knocks on the counter, each of you receiving another drink.

"--there's always liquid courage to settle the nerves."

You nod slowly, processing his words. Real, genuine advice... and, some sincerity sprinkled in? Were you really that drunk already??? Deftly, you picked up your glass, almost downing it before Alastor stops you.

" A toast, first."

Alastor grins as he picks up his own glass, clinking it against yours," To your success, my dear."

You move in autopilot as you clink back against his drink," Y-Yeah uhh... to the Hotel's future," you added, the two of swallowing your drinks hastily. Alastor straightens his posture, reaching over to squeeze your arm in reassurance. The radio in the room flicks to a new frequency, changing to a modern, catchy song that you recognized.

" Th-This is--"

"Your favorite, right?" Alastor finishes, his grin widening," Well dear, I am nothing if not accommodating. For tonight, let's have a little fun. Change things up." You nearly jump out of your skin as the front lobby doors begin to open, Alastor's eyes meeting yours.

"I expect to have your first dance. Meet me when you'd like to accept the offer."

And with that, Alastor leaves you, melding into his shadow form to flit to another spot in the room. You blink a few times, still reeling from the entire interaction. You hadn't told Alastor your favorite song. Not even once. And, you never dared to listen to it in front of him, fearing that he would disregard you or even chastise you for your taste.

You feel your heart swelling as you search for Alastor again, mouth falling open in silent protest. You wanted to pester him, ask him how he was able to know something so personal.... However, you are greeted by a sharply dressed demon, all too eager to make your acquaintance.

You allow your hand to be kissed, and pleasantries were exchanged. But ultimately... you felt your eyes constantly searching for Alastor. Maybe Angel was right, you thought... Maybe you did have something going on between the two of you. You felt a blossom that had remained so stubborn finally experience it's long-awaited bloom.

Maybe you did like Alastor. Maybe, just maybe, he liked you too... As the night grew longer, you realized that you just might be content with that.

[theemporium]

yes lando comfort fic where maybe you weren’t at qatar but after yesterday took the first flight there. and it’s just full of hugs, kisses, massages, praise, pep talks. He’s got his head on your chest or in your lap :(

my heart actually breaks for the boy :(

.

The second you saw the qualifying results, you knew you had to fly out. 

You hadn’t originally planned to. You were swamped with classes and lectures and work, and after taking time off to travel to Singapore and Japan with him, you couldn’t exactly afford to take more time off for Qatar as well. 

And Lando had been understanding. To be honest, he was just happy you had taken time out to join him on two race weekends that turned out pretty damn well in respect to the start of the season. And he knew no matter what he said about compensating for your time off work, you wanted to go back before you eventually flew out to join him in the last stint of races. 

But that was before the shit-show of the Qatar Grand Prix weekend started. 

You hadn’t been able to talk to him earlier that day, too late running for work that a simple reply to his good morning message was the only thing you could send. Nor did you have the chance to keep up with the practice session. However, when you opened your phone after walking out of work to see the qualifying results, you didn’t even hesitate. 

You had played it all out perfectly, getting onto the next plane out to Qatar whilst messaging your boss that you had a stomach bug and couldn’t come in until you stopped vomiting. You had shared a few messages here and there with Lando, but he didn’t seem all too eager to talk to you, let alone anyone after the messy qualifying session. 

You didn’t arrive at the paddock until the sprint had already started, and it only went downhill from there. You thought the McLaren front row lock out would have brought up morale, but you were wrong. 

It was shit. You knew the second he crossed the line in P3 that he wasn’t going to be happy with himself. You knew it, and yet, the second his radio came through confirming as such, your heart only broke more. 

You knew your boy. You knew he would be keeping it all in. But you knew no matter what, he wouldn’t break in front of everyone else. He would pat Oscar on the back and he would play the good teammate and happy chap as best he could to the media. He would play his part. 

Until he said five words that truly shattered your heart.

“Just a lack of talent.”

The second he was done with interviews, he just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to listen to whatever his team were saying, he didn’t want to deal with the debrief and strategy planning for tomorrow’s race. He just wanted to be fucking alone so he could stop pretending. 

He was almost annoyed when he saw his driver room door was open, ready to snap at whoever it was lingering inside his room. But then he was standing at the doorway and he saw you in the room, a sad smile on your face as you waited for him, and every resolve within him crumbled in seconds. 

The door was slammed shut and he was barrelling towards you before you could even open your mouth. His arms locked around your waist, his face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck and he sunk into your embrace, almost like it was a sigh of relief. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered to him, clinging onto him tightly.

And then, he just sobbed.

You didn’t say anything as he cried in your arms, simply holding him and hugging him and doing your best to sway back and forth as his body wracked with sobs. And when he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore, you sat down on the couch with his head buried in your lap as you slowly wiped away the tears streaming down his face, hot and flushed and embarrassed but he didn’t care about his mask when he was with you.

“I’m not good enough,” he whispered, his voice raspy from all the crying.

You blanched. “Lando—”

“Five fucking seasons,” he murmured, his glossy eyes looking anywhere but you, because he knew he would start crying again if he looked at you and he was far too tired for that. “I have been doing this for five seasons and everyone keeps fucking expecting that I get a win and it’s not happened—”

“Lando,” you tried again, but he continued.

“He’s a fucking rookie,” Lando whispered in disbelief. “I just….this is just what they need. This is what they need to say that I’m done, that I’m fucking useless, that I don’t deserve my seat and I’m just some waste of fucking space that can’t even win a fucking race and—”

“Hey,” you snapped enough to finally gain his attention. “Look at me.”

He shook his head.

“Lando,” you said in a softer voice as your palm cupped his cheek, gently turning his head until he was looking up at you. “Look at me.” 

“I’m not good enough to be here,” he whispered in a broken voice. “I’m not as good as they say I am. As they expected me to be.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” you whispered back, shaking your head as you took in his glossy eyes and pink cheeks.

Lando started shaking his head again, but you continued. 

“Lando Norris, you are one of the most talented and skilled drivers in this sport,” you said to him. “One weekend does not define you, nor does it take away from all your achievements.”

“I made stupid mistakes—” He started again.

“And everyone does,” you countered. “Everyone makes mistakes, Lando. That’s what makes us human, but that does not make us not good enough or untaleneted.”

He didn’t say anything. 

“Your day will come,” you said as your thumb gently stroked the apple of his cheek. “And it will be fucking amazing. And I can’t wait to be standing there, watching you on that top step as you hit that stupid champagne bottle and try not to break your trophy. And it will be the first of many.”

He let out a small huff of amusement. 

“You are more than enough, Lando, and I’m so proud of you,” you whispered to him, your eyes finding his so he could see the sincerity in your voice and words. “And you’re enough whether you have a million race wins or none. You are enough just the way you are.”

Lando sniffled, giving you a wet smile—and it wasn’t much, but it was a step forward. 

“I love you,” you whispered with a soft smile. “And I’ll love you no matter what.”

“I love you too,” he whispered back as he nuzzled himself further into your lap. “Thank you for coming.”

“Always, baby,” you grinned. “I’m always gonna be here for you.”

“Promise?” 

Your heart almost broke with how vulnerable he sounded. 

“Promise.” 

.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 3)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 3 A tragedy 

So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.

「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」

Minors DNI 🤺

You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.

But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 

You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 

“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.

“No, Tommy.”

“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 

“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.

You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.

“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”

You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 

“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”

You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.

“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.

“For what?”

It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 

He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.

“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”

“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”

“He usually cuts us in.”

Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 

“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.

“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.

“That’s it?” Incredulous.

“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”

“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 

Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 

During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.

Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”

You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 

Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.

“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 

Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.

“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.

He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 

Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 

“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.

You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’

Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 

“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 

“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.

“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.

“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”

Lie. 

“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 

Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”

“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.

“Then look at me.”

Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.

You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.

You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.

Lie. 

You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.

Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.

“Alastor, people are staring.” 

His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.

“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.

“The truth or wh-“

“Always. Never give me anything else.”

You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”

Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.

“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 

Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.

“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”

You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?

He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 

You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.

Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 

You stood, waiting for an explanation.

Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”

You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 

Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?

“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”

“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”

He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”

You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.

He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”

You watched his car light up and leave the alley.

It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 

So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?

Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”

You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 

Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 

Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”

Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”

“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”

Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.

He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 

Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.

Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 

However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 

Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.

Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.

Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.

When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.

“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 

Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.

“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.

You grimaced, “No, a murder.”

She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”

You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.

“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 

“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.

“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”

“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”

A nod, yes, actually, you had.

“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”

You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”

When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.

“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 

Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.

The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.

The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  

Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?

Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.

The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.

You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.

And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.

Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.

You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.

The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.

“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.

“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.

“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.

“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”

A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”

A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 

Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 

Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 

Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 

You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”

“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”

Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 

Funny how that works both ways.

Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 

The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.

Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 

You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.

Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?

He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.

You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.

Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”

As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”

He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 

You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.

“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”

How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 

Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.

“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 

How could he make hell sound so sweet?

“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 

He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?

His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 

You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”

His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.

Had you said something wrong? 

“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”

Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.

He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.

Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.

Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 

With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 

Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.

He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 

Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.

You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.

Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 

But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.

Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.

“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”

His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.

You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”

He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.

“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.

Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.

The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 

Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.

Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.

He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.

He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.

He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 

(Next Part Next Week, orz)

*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one

༻Masterlist༺

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

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

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

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[acesofspadess]

Teamwork

Ace Giovanelli

The Mexico GP brings up more questions than she could answer

warnings: cursing, talks of crashing, max and lando (they need a TW themselves)

Post qualifying conference 

“Welcome to the post qualifying conference…” 

Soon after questions were asked from the floor…

"Question for Lando,” someone said, “How do papaya rules take place tomorrow being in the same row with Ace?”

Lando shrugged, lifting the mic, “They don’t.” He said dropping the mic, saying he was done with that question and every further one that someone may have wanted to ask.

~~~~

The morning of race day Lando and Ace were walking hand-in-hand water bottles in the other as the walked with Rachel who was interviewing them. Ace was finishing her answer when Carlos walked by and ‘dick-tapped’ Lando who buckled into his girlfriend.

Ace and Rachel both laughed as Ace yelled after him, “That’s my job, Carlos!” Which got a laugh from him and Lando who had once again paused leaning into his girlfriend. “He got you good there didn’t he?” Rachel asked and Lando chuckled. “Karma.” He said, making Ace laugh, “That’s what you get for starting it.”

~~~~

Ace and Lando stood next to each other by Ace’s car having their pre-race talk as always, they were shorter on time so their helmets were half way on.

“How do you always look so good in fireproofs” he murmured, leaning close so only she could hear.

Ace’s laugh came as she shook her head, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “Lando, if you don’t stop flirting on the grid, I swear I’m telling Zak,” she teased, though the grin on her face was undeniable.

“Oh, come on. I’m just giving you a little pep talk before the big show,” he replied, his eyes crinkling mischievously.

“Yeah? Well, here’s your pep talk—don’t go doing anything stupid against Max,” she said, her tone serious but soft, knowing the heat of the fight ahead. “Just… be safe, okay?”

He glanced away toward the Red Bull on the front row, then back to her, nodding. “I will. But you know I’ll do what I have to,” he replied, a flicker of determination in his gaze.

Ace sighed, torn between frustration and understanding. She knew it was the sport, the competition, but every time she was reminded, her heart twisted. Still, she gave him a small, supportive smile. “Then go on, show them what you’ve got. I’ve got your back.”

He squeezed her hand quickly before stepping back, flashing her one last smile before they turned to their cars, ready to chase the thrill of the race.

They stayed in their order through turn 1 until Carlos went off track and had to give his position back to Max. 

“Safety Car is out Ace, VCARB and a Williams in the back.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is out of the cars.”

They were under the safety car until Lap 7 and then they continued to race. Ace was close to Lando but wasn’t able to pass him. Carlos took the lead back from Max a few laps later but Ace was still chasing the three ahead. Lando was getting closer to Max and when he went for the overtake Max forced him off the track causing Lando to drive through the grass.

“Lando was ahead at every moment, Max forced him off. He’s going to end up in a wall!”

“Yep, we’ve seen it.”

“Tell them to look at my onboard, it’s very visible.”

“Head down Ace.”

Lando gave Carlos his position back but the fight between Max and Lando wasn’t over as Max went back for the overtake  taking them both off track.

Verstappen throwing it to the inside- BOTH are off! Extraordinary! Elbows are out, brawling between the two of them- and Ace Giovanelli takes advantage to get up to second position, how about that!

“What the fuck is going on infront of me?!”

“Yeah Ace, working on it, P2. Head down.”

For the viewers at home who aren’t well versed, that was Ace Giovanelli, Lando Norris’ teammate and girlfriend. 

Ace is always vouching for him, the two of them are duo you don’t want to mess with.

Never get on Ace’s bad side, especially when it comes to Lando.

But even when it’s not Lando, Ace is always on her radio saying what it is and what it should be.

You gotta love her, she never fails to make the race interesting.

Ace was gaining very well on Carlos, and without getting into an accident, but managed to get very close.

“Closing the gap, please be careful.”

Ace backed off slightly but enough to keep Carlos in her sights.

“Verstappen now has a 20 second penalty.”

“Then why the fuck is he still behind me?!”

As we said earlier, always a good race when Ace is on the radio.

She brings up a good question, Max knows he was in the wrong, and held on and still holds onto that third place position…

A few more laps just holding position came and went until Rupert was back in her ear. 

“Lando behind, Verstappen in pit.”

“I’m not even going to say anything. Gap?”

“6.3”

Ace was losing time to Carlos ahead of her. His pace was just much faster than hers. Lando boxed behind her on lap 30 and she understood why, but she was still in the race. She was boxing a few laps later…

“Ace, pitlane.”

…but so did George, which meant she kept her position in P2. but she was now 31 seconds behind Carlos.

Carlos boxed, a lap later.

“Gap?”

“8.5”

She looked in her mirrors a few times confused.

“Gap behind, you muppet.”

“4.8.”

Papaya like Papaya.

Everyone is a Lando and Ace fan, even if you don’t like McLaren, chances are you love Ace and Lando.

The laps got tricky as she was too far from Carlos to race, but too far from Lando to defend. Tire’s were her number one priority.

“Lando closing, 4.3. If you can push, push.”

She did start to push, and did so very well for around 10 laps. She saw Lando on the big screen during the straight and a feeling she hated hit her hard. This is racing, you need to be selfish. She tried telling herself. Lap 60 she looked at her dash.

“Lando behind, in and out of DRS, you are free to race.”

The papaya’s once again are going racing!

Ace continued racing, continuously checking her mirrors to see the gap behind. 

“10 laps left, bring it home.”

Ace wondered if she would look back on today's race, how she would feel. What would it look like? How would it change her future?

At this pace, if Lando is fighting for that second place position, it will be down to the final lap, Ace’s pace is just faster than his -AND ACE IS SLOWING DOWN! What is she doing?!

“Ace, you are free to race.”

“I’m well aware.”

She waited for the main straight knowing Lando was in her DRS and shifted to the inside watching him pass.

Ace Giovanelli has LET her teammate pass her down the main straight! There were no team orders, no communication on any end! How have we gotten here?!

“Yeah don’t say anything.” She said before anyone could get on the radio. She was so far from George, she knew the rest of the race would just be for maximum points. 

We need to talk about what just happened in McLaren. Ace moved out of the way on her own.

Ace has stayed in that second position since Max and Lando went fighting in those early laps, there is no reason for her to pull away now versus later in the race. He has no chance at taking on Carlos. 

Which makes us ask even more questions. She’s still within enough time to take that position back from Lando, and she’s just taken the fastest lap. I can’t wait to hear the post race interviews.

More laps passed and Ace saw the number get closer to the end.

“Leclerc pitted for fastest lap, how do you feel about going for fastest lap on the last lap? Tire’s are still good.”

“Yeah, leave it to me.”

Ace built a healthy gap to Lando, trusting her car and tires before pressing on the throttle with as much force as she could muster.

…And Ace Giovanelli is setting purple sectors, rapid sectors, to give McLaren a double podium finish and a point for fastest lap for the constructors that is now between McLaren and Ferrari! That’s a podium finish for Giovanelli, a fastest lap, and the the point that comes with it! What. A. Race.

Ace waved at all the fans as she did her podium lap. As she pulled into the makeshift podium parc-ferme she heard Rupert again.

“P3 Ace, good teamwork out there. You did get fastest lap. Thank you for an amazing race.”

“Yeah thanks everyone for a good race, I know our priorities. All points are good points.”

Ace stopped the car, unbuckled, got out, waved at the uproar of people around her before tackling Carlos. “Carlitos!” She yelled, pulling her visor up as he spun her around. “You deserved this!” She shouted over the roar of cars and fans. Carlos hugged her again and they stumbled when Lando joined them. “Well deserved, muppet!” His helmet and balaclava were already off.

Carlos shook both of their heads before walking off towards his team. Ace and Lando walked behind him to the podium stands as she took her helmet off then her balaclava off lethargically. “I can breathe again.” She laughed, putting her helmet down and stuffing her gloves and balaclava in it.

“Why did you do it?” Lando asked as she chugged her water. “No one else may believe you’re still in the fight. But I do.” She told him before getting called over for the interview.

“Ace Giovanelli, podium. I know it was a difficult race , you had to manage temperatures at the beginning, and then towards the end there. How difficult was the race for you?”

“Ehh, it was a difficult one. The first stint was all about trying to manage the temperatures which was kind of difficult, but uh, yeah at the end we did the best race we could do. Carlos was just ahead the entire race. He had an amazing race, but yeah, it was a good weekend for the team, overall it was positive.

“You managed to get the fastest lap at the end, was that the intention with letting Lando pass you?”

Ace fixed the neck strap as she listened before answering. “Uh, no. It wasn’t.” She chuckled, “I let Lando through because he’s fighting for something I’m not, that’s really all there is to it. There isn’t a need for team orders when it comes to the obvious stuff.”

“You took the fastest lap away from Ferrari. How does knowing Ferrari is closing in on you in the constructors feel?”

“It’s exciting.” She said honestly, “No one joins racing for the easy way through. Lando and I have good pace, we have a good team, we have a good car and we’re ready for the fight.”

“Thank you Ace, and congratulations on the podium.”

“Gracias Mexico!” She said waving while walking off.

Ace stayed for a bit of Lando’s interview….

“...and what are your thoughts on Ace letting you by?”

“Uh yeah, Ace is an important part of our team. She’s brought a lot to the team. You have to be selfish in this sport and knowing she gave up her points and position for me anyway, it’s not something a lot of teammates would do, when we’re on track we aren’t dating, we’re racers and that says a lot on who Ace is as a person and as teammate.”

“She said that you were fighting something she’s not, is that something you’ve spoken about beforehand considering Ace is closer to you than you are to Max?”

“No, we've never discussed Ace giving up her position in this race or any race for that matter. We were told to race and Ace did what she did.” 

She was pulled away by her personal team to take pictures- what she assumed Lando was doing when she was being interviewed- before going up to the cooldown room. Her highlight of her and Carlos fighting for a few laps played on the screen. “I thought I had it on turn 4, I was ready but Carlos was just..” She whistled, “But your pace at the end was crazy!” She perked back up. “The wind changed, that’s why they asked you to go for fastest lap.”

“That was the safety car then?” She pointed at the replay and they watched the VCARB and Williams until Lando and Max’s battle played. “Ahh!” He groaned watching him run off the track. “I think I cursed Rupert out when that happened.” Lando chuckled at the second fight and Ace shook her head.

“Carlitos!” Maia laughed as he came in. “What was your tire deg?” He asked immediately. “Wasn’t bad at all actually.”

“You switched to the hards before me no?”

“Maybe a lap before. I think they lasted because I didn’t have to fight off George. That is probably why I managed to steal that point from you, Scarlets.” She pulled his hat over his face.

“Ai!” He said trying to fight her for her hat but she got up to get her water. They spoke about nonsense for a little longer before they lined up for the podium.

Ace walked out waving as she stood on the farthest and shortest step. Maia watched with a laugh as Carlos was raised slowly up by the hydraulics.

After the national anthems and the trophies Ace and Lando looked at each other nodding and shook their bottles hitting Carlos from both sides as Ricky went for Ace and Lando and Carlos tried his best to get them back.

He ran to spray his teams as Ace and Lando shook champagne from their faces. They clinked their bottles laughing, before Carlos sprayed them from behind and they both shook their bottles spraying him again and Ace knew that that picture was getting clipped. 

They took their photo on the podium before walking off messing with Lando and Carlos.

“Hey Ace, a massive race for you today, P4 to P2 then finishing in P3. How was the race for you?”

“Yeah, it was a really good race. We got the maximum amount of points we could have today, Carlos was just at another pace than we could have ever managed. I think for the team it was a great race, we had a much better car than we thought we would have and yeah I can’t complain about much.”

“You gave your P2 up for Lando can you tell us a bit more behind that?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but I knew points wise for the team it would have been the same. Lando didn’t have the pace to catch up to me, for no matter of his own I’ll disclaim, but as I said earlier, Lando is fighting for something I’m not and it felt too selfish to keep that from him, dating or not.”

“And how do you think McLaren is going to do in Brazil next weekend?”

“Every weekend is up for debate. We just have to keep our heads down and put everything we can into every race we have left.”

“Thank you Ace.”

“Cheers.”

~~~~

“A very warm welcome to the top three finishers of the FIA Formula 1 Mexico City Grand Prix. In third place Ace Giovanelli…” Ace wasn’t even paying attention to the introduction as she finished her conversation with Carlos.

The conference was mainly about Carlos, which Ace thought was rightfully deserved. “...it was an important P2 for you today, just how pleased are you with today’s result?”

“Very, very pleased. Um I’m happy, with P2, normally I wouldn’t be, but given the circumstance of how I got here. I can’t complain.” He chuckled looking at Ace who nodded her head shortly teasingly.

“Yeah Lando, you say the second stint was easier but your pace was still off Ace’s, what was going through your head when you saw Ace slowing down?”

“I thought her car failed to be honest.” He laughed and Ace rolled her eyes with a chuckle. “I was like, ‘oh no, what happened, am I next?’ but then I saw her come up behind me and knew we would have to talk after the race.”

“Ace can we come to you now? P3 completes a great day for McLaren. Can we get your take on the race first of all.”

Ace lifted the mic up, “Yeah, I mean all in all it was a positive weekend for McLaren. Maybe not for us personally, Carlos has been strong from FP1 and until the last moment of the race. For myself. During the race I felt I was relatively quick, having a few moments with Carlos, which I hear he did not like-” she nudged him having heard his radio- “but at the end it was it was and I’m very happy for McLaren, very happy for Carlos, he deserves it more than anyone this weekend.

“You’ve probably answered this many times already, but can you tell us what your thinking was behind giving up P2?”

“I don’t think I ‘gave it up’. That makes it sound as if I went for a cruiser, I didn’t.” She chuckled with a shrug. “Thoughts wise, a lot. I wanted to be selfish, get P2 under my name again, but it felt almost too selfish when I’m not fighting for a title, I’m only fighting Charles, and finishing ahead of him is my only goal. As a teammate it felt like the right thing to do.”

“Do you think Lando would have overtaken you if you didn’t let him pass?”

“Uhh,” She paused, thinking about the pace and gap. “Based on the information I was receiving, I don’t think he would have, which is why I did what I did.”

“OKay, let’s open this to the floor.”

Ace was used to getting the least amount of questions when it came to him and Max anywhere close to each other.

“Question for the two McLaren drivers, congratulations on today, you’re both in very good form and McLaren has continued the form through the second half of the season really. How hard are you trying to keep Ferrari away from taking the constructors from you? And are you somehow surprised that you’re now fighting Ferrari and not Red Bull considering how the season has been for all three teams?”

Lando nodded to Ace to go first, “I mean yeah, we’re fighting hard. That’s what we're here to do. I have confidence in Lando and I will continue performing like we did in Singapore, Baku, and Zandvoort. As far as who we are fighting, I don’t think it matters all that much. A fight is a fight.” She shrugged with her hands and Lando chuckled. 

“What she said.” He pointed with his famous smile.

“Question for Ace, when you went through after Max and Lando went off, did you say anything?”

Ace leaned forward, “Sorry can you say that again?”

“When Lando and Max went off track and you passed them, did you say something to yourself? Where you worried that you may have been apart of a collision.

Ace leaned back as she registered the question. “Oh um, yeah of course. Being behind those two is always stressful, you’re always gaging whether you need to speed up and get out of the way, but when that happened I think I said, ‘what the fuck is going on there.’ Oh sorry-” She laughed but then realised what she said and gasped.

“Oh no.” She threw her head back and hit a hand to her hat. “I don’t want to join Max in community service. I was the one who told him how to loop hole it.” She laughed and Carlos and Lando laughed with her.

“You better enjoy it.” Carlos teased making hr laugh more. “Uh yeah, then-

“Beep.” Lando sang teasingly making her chuckle. “Yeah after that I went after Carlos but he was far ahead of me at that point.” She put down the mic with wide eyes looking at Lando.

“Question for Ace. That’s twice you’ve taken advantage of Max and Lando, do you think that the fight is going to the very end, and will be a threeway? Or do you expect to be the clear winner”

Ace raised her brows at Lando as he giggled. “I mean, if they take each other out then you have your answer.” She laughed as Lando rolled his eyes jokingly. “It’s more of a fight between Lando and myself than Max and I. In reality I don’t think about the driver’s championship, I like to think realistically. They would have to have very poor weekends, and I would have to win every race from now on, it’s just not realistic. I just have to focus race by race for the team.”

With one last question to Carlos the conference was over and Lando took her hand as always but she got pulled to the side for her comment and managed to get a way with a warning. 

Carlos had invited them both to dinner and a club that night, Ace knew Rebeca and her would magnetise to each other as Lando and Carlos did. Dinner was nice but Ace loved the club, summer was too long ago for her.

In the club’s neon lights, Ace and Lando moved together, laughter filling the space between them. He spun her playfully, nearly losing his balance when she pulled him back to dance close. Next to them, Carlos and Rebeca were trying to keep up, Carlos’s dance moves were still put together with how much he had to drink. Rebeca was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath, holding onto Carlos to keep him from tripping over his own feet. The boys switched partners and Ace laughed in Carlos’ arms.

“Maybe we should have cut you off at dinner,’” Ace teased, earning an exaggerated groan from him.

“Don’t listen to her,” Rebeca laughed, as they switched again, “you’re doing amazing… at whatever this is.”

Lando grinned, pulling Ace closer as the song switched to a slower beat, his hands finding her waist as they moved together. He leaned in, voice low, “You know, I think we could make our own dance floor later… somewhere a bit more private.”

Ace rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t fight her smile. “Lando! There’s a time and a place!”

“Oh, come on,” he whispered, grinning, “I’m just making sure my best moves are saved for the best dance partner.”

She laughed, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Behave, or Carlos might try to copy you!”

Carlos, catching the end of her sentence, lifted an eyebrow. “What are we copying now? Lando’s... moves?”

“Trust me, Carlos,” Ace said with a smirk, shooting Lando a knowing look, “you’re better off not knowing.”

acegiovanelli posted

liked by carlossainz and other

acegiovanelli Muchas gracias Mexico! Another podium to celebrate before Brazil! Te amo Carlitos! Well deserved (even if you didn't like me racing you)

@/carlossainz @/landonorris @/iamrebeccad

view comments

carlossainz you got to close!

acegiovanelli wimp

iamrebecccad 🥰🥰

norelli45 here for this dump! carlandace content we deserve

landonorris you stole my picture

acegiovanelli it was on my phone... my phone, my pic

landonorris YOU AREN'T EVEN IN IT

acegiovanelli don't expose the fact you didn't want your own girlfriend in the pic... 😬

landonorris don't start before I vouch for your community service

acegiovanelli sssshhhh you're supposed to be on my side!

mcpapaya54 oh he got you there

[selineram3421]

*stumbles in and door slams into the wall* Ding-dong💘

Soft Love

Alastor X Chubby Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ food mention-desserts and strawberries, hurt/comfort, italics=thoughts, insecurities, mentions of murder, mention of cannibalism, slight implied/suggestive ⚠

Life in Hell was hectic.

Love in Hell? Nearly impossible to find.

Especially if its real.

Alastor knew you as the kind, soft demon that everyone got along with in the hotel staff.

Kind even to him.

Your work at the hotel was mostly in the arts. The Princess has you in the therapy area to help sinners express their emotions with different mediums.

Such an interesting demon you were with many hobbies. Painting, singing, dancing, baking, designing, cooking, knitting, photography, drawing. The list could go on possibly for a while, you haven't shared all of them.

He was curious, wondering exactly what damned you to Hell.

"Alastor!"

Speak of the devil, you called.

"Yes dear?", he looked up from his book.

He sat on the lobby couch that was just across the bar, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"Could you try something for me? I made some lava cake for desert but I want to make sure yours is the right amount of bitter."

Yes, you were also very considerate and attentive.

"Of course dear!", he stood from the couch and whisked his book away into the shadows. "You know I always look forward to your baking."

He followed behind you, smiling a little wider at the pep in your step.

The Radio Demon knew that he had feelings for you. It took him a while to come to terms with it but let it happen anyway.

You were also the only person that he touched (respectfully) often. Holding your hand, linking your arms together, squishing your cheeks, holding you close for a dance. All excuses just to feel your warmth and softness.

Sure, he's let his friend Rosie touch him but she knew that he didn't like physical contact too often unless it was needed for dancing.

"I made your cake less sweet too!", you turned to look back at him with a smile.

"I appreciate it."

Once both of you entered the kitchen, you showed him the cakes and got out two different chocolate mixes.

"The lighter one is the sweetest, and the darker one is quite bitter.", you placed the bowls on the counter. "I actually want to try it with strawberries too.."

"Sounds appetizing!", he stepped closer and placed his hand on your lower back, leaning forward. "I wouldn't mind having a bite."

You blushed and avoided his gaze.

How adorable.

"I'll get a spoon for you to try the chocolate.", you said before walking out of his hold and over to the drawers near the door.

One thing he noticed was that when it came to his touch, you'd shy away. When he gave you compliments regarding your appearance, you would brush him off or put yourself down.

It upset him greatly.

Somewhat impatient, he swiped up some of the dark chocolate with his finger and tasted it.

"Alastor!"

Like a child, he quickly held his hands behind his back as if to hide something.

"Yes?"

You sighed and got a napkin before walking up to the red man.

"No use in hiding what you did.", you held out your hand.

"But I'm not hiding anything.", he shows you his hands by placing them on yours. "See?"

You hum and pull him down by his hands. "You've got chocolate on the side of your lip deer.", you point out and laugh.

He let's you clean him up with the napkin.

When you pull back, he stops you by taking a hold of your hand with the napkin. Calling your name, the Radio Demon looks you in the eye.

"I have a question for you"

"What is it?", you ask.

"Why is it that whenever I give you a compliment, you disregard it?"

In a second you stiffened and stared at him wide eyed.

"W-what? I don't do that..", you tried to pull away.

Alastor places a kiss on your fingers, still not letting go of your hand.

"Don't lie to me my dear, I always remember everything about you."

You look away with a sigh.

The frown on your face makes his unbeating heart ache.

"I don't like to talk about it.", you say and pull away.

Instead of leaving, you move the bowls and hop onto the counter to sit. Then you take a moment before speaking.

"I wasn't always treated right because of how big I looked.", you said with a sad smile. "I wasn't beauty standard perfect, or had a body that someone could ogle."

The red demon listened.

"When I did get into a relationship, it wasn't good. I was belittled, abused, and cheated on. But I still loved with my whole being..", you moved your hands onto your lap. "I was stabbed to death by them."

Alastor had to hold back his anger.

He wanted to find the person who dared treat you like nothing. To torture and rip them apart. To eat them alive.

"Silly, isn't it?", you smiled sadly, staring down at your hands. "Its what got me killed in the first place but yet I'm still chasing after it."

The Radio Demon slowly took your hands and gently rubbed them.

"You just put your heart in the wrong hands.", he said and lifted your hands to kiss your knuckles. "If I was the one who you loved, you wouldn't have to worry about any affairs."

He kissed the inside of your wrist.

"I'd compliment you everyday."

You were blushing madly at this point, too shocked and flustered to stop him.

He kissed your shoulder.

"I would never hurt you.", he says and kisses your cheek before whispering. "Unless you asked me to."

"Alastor-", you got one of your hands out of his hold to cover your mouth and some of your red face.

He leans back a bit to get a good look at you.

"I don't know how they couldn't see you for who you are. You're absolutely divine and worth so much more than anything anyone else could offer me."

You were tearing up at this point, still covering your mouth.

Carefully, the deer demon moved your hand away and caressed the side of your face. Wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

"I love you."

You start tearing up more and he sees them start running down, some wetting his hand.

"I love all of you.", he smiles genuinely. "And if anyone dared try to insult or belittle you again, I'll make sure to torture them a million times over until you ask me to stop."

You've begun to quietly sob, wiping your tears as best as you could with your free hand.

"May I kiss you?"

You laugh at that.

"I'm a mess!", you say with a breathy laugh before sniffling.

"No, you're adorable.", he kisses the top of your head.

He let's you take a minute to calm down and helps you wipe your tears and snot away.

"Can you ask again?", you give him a shy smile.

"May I kiss you?", his smile widens.

"Yes please."

Both of you share a soft but long kiss.

I found the merch!

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

None for right now until I can fix how to add more tags.

ML for Alastor🎙

Extra:

You confess to Alastor that you've had a crush on him for quite a while.

"How long?", he asks, deer ears perked up.

"Uh..haha.", you look away with a blush. "After a week of joining the hotel.."

Doing the math, he realized that you've fancied him four months before he started growing feelings for you.

"Is that why you would ask what my favorite meals are? And how much sweetness I could tolerate?"

You nod.

"I can't believe how oblivious I've been. You've been gifting and making things for me.", his deer ears droop down and his brows furrow. "I must make up for all the time you spent on me."

"It's alright love.", you smiled.

"No, you can't change my mind.", he says and steals a kiss. "I'm going to spoil you."

🫀

[peptalkradio]

[cyjammy]

Vox and Alastor’s Dynamic is so FUN

Hazbin Hotel Season 1 Episode 2 Spoilers ahead!

I have to talk about Vox and Alastor’s “rivalry”. I love how Alastor just couldn’t care less, he’s witty, he’s emotionless and that makes him all the more powerful.

Well, not emotionless since he does express outward disgust towards anything digital, but the fact he can keep himself composed because he knows he is the shit and that’s what makes him my absolute favorite.

That showed through in the pilot and the show didn’t fail to deliver. I love how he’s handled. Viv’s characterization is wonderful.

Most fics I have read with Alastor have shown him as vunerable despite the story never alluding to that and it’s such a breath of fresh air to have canon content of Alastor being his authentic self.

My god do I love a character that’s strong and not swayed by emotion, but they can be handled well too. I.E. VOX oh my god. Every fanon had him pegged down as the victim to Val’s wrath, but he’s the mastermind behind the scenes. A complete subversion of everyone’s expectations. And that’s for another post I’m about to go crazy on, but I digress.

Vox is a man up in his ivory electronic tower with villainous intentions, but he falls short because of emotion!

Handling Velvet’s demands to get Val together? A quick pep talk with himself and he’s got it.

Addressing unforeseen circumstances with concerned sinners? Easy.

But Alastor?

He sees RED. He let Valentino have it when he even thought about going on a rampage over a sinner under his thumb.

When it comes to Alastor, Vox goes on a hate campaign and makes a fool of himself.

Meanwhile, Alastor was minding his business, and Vox couldn’t deal with that.

So much so he causes a blackout in the Wrath ring!

Why? Because of his rejection sensitivity.

He is this all powerful overlord with companions in his rule and when he asks someone of similar station to become his equal he gets rejected.

It’s unheard of for him. He cannot fathom it.

Because that makes Alastor a factor he cannot control.

Val says that Alastor “almost beat him”. Val may not have witnessed that fight and Vox spun it around to claim he came out on top.

But if he did, he definitely wouldn’t let Alastor get away.

Valentino and Vox have known each other for a long time, as shown in a photo in the background in the episode.

So either this spat began before they had met and Vox lied or Valentino witnessed it. I'm excited to see which way that goes.

In terms of influence, Alastor seems to win that battle. Vox is in charge of electrical currents and anything in the digital space.

Alastor is so far removed from that Vox has no influence over him. He refuses to be involved with new technology.

But with Vox having an army of sinners under his wing through subliminal messaging, he had security and power.

With Alastor’s return he brings CHARISMA and he’s doing it SO FUCKING WELL.

This is not a battle, it’s a slaughter, and Alastor is WINNING. With television there are so many ways to captivate a viewer but with radio all the host has is their voice and personality. It all has to be shown in a medium that doesn’t have many options for uniqueness.

Alastor defends himself with grace. He throws out compliments to his fellow overlords while still having it be a slight to the man who began the fight.

THE Vs ARE PREENING AT HIS PRAISE. THIS MAN IS GOATED.

It's night and day, but that's probably because Valentino and Velvet are tired of Vox's shit. I love this parallel so much!

Vox needed to be the person he was with Valentino at all times if this is a battle he wants to win, but he’s so bitter he will never see that.

He’s stubborn and that’s his main flaw.

And I fucking love it.

Alastor knows what he’s thinking and how to avoid it.

Always a step ahead. And their duet showcases that perfectly.

Alastor uses his opponent’s power against them, seeing the slanderous TV campaign and immediately going on air.

He does that in the pilot as well and seeing that this has become a habit for him is so fun to see.

Alastor is not to be messed with and I feel like people decided to gloss over that. But it’s so in your face you cannot deny it.

Alastor is TERRIFYING with a chilling deposition that will give you nightmares if you dare cross him.

Give him the respect he fucking deserves.

And the music and the visuals of the song — A whole fucking masterpiece.

I’m in love with their dynamic so far and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

So far Vox is the obsessed fanatic that couldn’t handle rejection.

There has to be more than that.

[fizzyellouw]

Main poster ↓

Old poster ↓

History

The story takes place in 1989 at Westerburg High School. Pomni was a girl who was bullied by her classmates, many of whom were her childhood friends. A few days later, she joined the most popular clique at Wasterburg, which consisted of three rich students: the leader, Jax; the silly prince, Kinger; and the cheerleader ; Ragatha. After 3 weeks of being a Heath, Pomni gets fed up with them, especially Jax.

She meets a candy gator, Gummigoo, Pomni learns about his fight with 2 other popular kids.

When Pomni goes to Ram's party with the Heaths, she has a great time, but Gangle arrives at the party and this worries Pomni, she tells Gangle to leave before someone hurts her and announces in the middle of the party that she's leaving the group and going back to her normal life, Jax fights with her and Pomni ends up vomiting, he swears to destroy Pomni's life.

Drunk, Pomni shows up at her best friend Gangle's house. The next day she says goodbye to Gangle and meets up with Gummigoo to discuss the plan against Jax. They break into Jax's house and Gummigoo pours him a liquid that he claims is a hangover cure, but is actually milk and detergent, leaving Jax hospitalized for months.

After the whole school heard that Jax was in hospital, many prayed that Jax would get well and others that Jax would die. Kinger soon took over Jax's role as leader of the group and started wearing a purple cape.

Ram and Kurt tell everyone that Pomni had sex with them. Gummigoo tells Pomni to lure them into the forest to trick them into having sex so he can shoot them with non-fatal German bullets. Gummigoo shoots Ram and Pomni misses Kurt, who runs away but Gummigoo chases after him. Pomni noticed that the bullets were real; Gummigoo chases Kurt back to Pomni, who panics and shoots Ram. Gummigoo puts homosexual materials next to the boys, and a suicide note saying that they were both gay and didn't want to live in such a cruel world anymore, thus ending homophobia in the school.

Gangle, Pomni's best friend, pins a suicide note to her chest and throws herself from a high place. She survives because her body is made of tape and is light, she hits her face on the floor and ends up cracking her face and is mocked for trying to "act popular".

One night, Ragatha calls into a popular radio show, Pomni Kinger was listening, Ragatha says her name is actually Agatha, she talks about her depression and how her life is forced, the next day, Kinger tells the whole school about Agatha, she tries to commit suicide by overdosing on pills in the girls' bathroom, but is saved in time by Pomni.

Gummigoo tells Kinger to get signatures from all the students for a band note, which was actually a suicide note. Most of the students signed it.

Pomni tells Gummigoo that he doesn't want to hurt and kill anyone anymore. Gummigoo goes to Pomni's house with a revolver to kill her, but Pomni uses a rope to make it look like she committed suicide. Gummigoo thinks there's no one left to stop him so he goes to the school and plants a bomb to blow everything up.

Pomni fights Gummigoo in the boiler room under the gymnasium while a pep rally is going on at the school, where he is setting up timed explosives. Pomni shoots Gummigoo as a result of him refusing to stop the bomb. While Gummigoo has fainted, Pomni deactivates the bomb and leaves with it going to an open space in the school, she puts the bomb in her chest to kill herself but Gummigoo arrives in time and takes the bomb out of her hands, he tells Pomni to stay away and says that, from the first time he saw her, he fell in love with Pomni, but he knew she didn't feel the same way but he still didn't care. The bomb finally explodes and confetti scatters and Pomni gets dirty with dust and confetti, she picks up Gummigoo's hat and puts it on her head with a smile of relief.

Pomni confronts Kinger, confesses and asks Gangle out on a date (one night in the movie) so they start dating.

1 month later, she goes to Jax who is out of hospital and tells him that she didn't put detergent in his drink but Gummigoo, and that she didn't know there was detergent in it. Jax didn't know whether to trust Pomni or Gummigoo, but he gave Pomni a chance even though he still didn't trust her very much. The Heaths, including Kinger, assume that their names are Jason, Agatha and Kilye.

Kylie sees that she was wrong, Agatha seeks treatment for her depression, and Jason stops smoking.

They stop bullying and the Heaths group ceases to exist, now Gangle, Pomni, Kilye, Jason and Agatha are friends.

Songs

Beautiful

Candy Store

Big Fun

Dead Girl Walking

Dead Girl Walking (reprise)

Shine a Light

Shine a Light (reprise)

Never Shut Up Again

Kindergarten Girlfriend

Seventeen

Meant To Be Yours

Yo, Girl

Lifeboat

Ships :

Bunnydoll / Ragatha x Jax

Scaredylovers / Gangle x Pomni

Funnygummy / Gummigoo x Pomni (Non-mutual feeling)

[iihyuck]

SOS ˇ 𓂃 7dream 𓏲࣪  | 00 | 01 | 02 | …

genre (for the overall series) idol au, eighth member au, fluff, me attempting comedy, slow burn but not really, comfort, angst, nsfw (minors and ageless blogs dni or you’re blocked) wc 4.8k

pairing ot7!dream x fem!reader … who’s the pairing getting freaky in this chapter? i won’t tell you 😼

warnings pet names (they call the reader baby because y/n upsets me and my homegirls but i fear it is used for the chat), light profanity, mentions of role play, nsfw but no piv (18+)

notes so sorry for the long wait, here's something lengthy while i work on the next part. smut is ... tame. but only because i haven't written in months. feedback is much appreciated <333

If you had known that telling the guys you grew up and debuted with that you were a virgin—and that you wanted them to show you the ropes—would make things awkward, you would’ve never brought it up at all.

But to be completely honest, you should’ve seen it coming.

Hell, Jisung avoided you for a whole week when you caught him watching kinky roleplay videos on the dorm’s computer a few years ago. Then again… who would’ve thought that was him? Not you, that’s for sure. The manager spent nearly a week trying to clear all the viruses that kept popping up on the poor thing.

It had been a little over two weeks since your not-so-distressed SOS call in your hotel room, and you hadn’t been touched yet. In fact, none of the boys had brought it up since then—complete radio silence.

You wouldn’t say you were bothered...

Because you weren’t!

Okay—maybe just a little.

It was just… weird.

All seven of your very hormonal members had agreed to sleep—sorry, help—you out, and yet they had made no effort to do so? If anything, you would’ve thought you’d be laid out right then and there in that very room.

Ever since returning to Korea, the others rarely even bothered to come over to where Renjun and Jisung stayed anymore. You all only ever met up at the company building for work or gathered at a BBQ spot after long days of practice.

After weeks of the topic being ignored, you had finally had enough. Just this morning, you gave yourself a pep talk—even rehearsing the confrontation you’d give your members after today’s recording session. Lots of f-bombs to assert dominance, of course.

But long story short?

You wimped out.

You couldn’t find the courage to bring it up, not with producers constantly walking in and out, pulling members into the booth one by one.

So, when you arrived home, you rehearsed again.

As an idol, rehearsing was second nature to you. Yet, here you were, fidgeting on Jaemin’s couch as your members sat sprawled across the floor, their eyes glued to the screen while Jisung and Chenle played some random fighting game.

This was far from how the scenario had played out in your head during your shower earlier.

Then again, to be fair, you were the one who had kind-of-sort-of initiated this whole hangout in the first place.

(10:59) Y/N : did you guys see the tweet about the jihyuck divorce?

(11:00) HAECHANNIE ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ : Me and Jisungie are still happily together, what are you talking about

(11:00) SPIDERMAN : trouble in paradise already? Sheeessh

(11:00) NANA : Jealous, Mark? 👀👀

(11:01) SPIDERMAN : ??? and why would i be jealous?

(11:01) HAECHANNIE ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ : Ahh just admit it ... seriously, this is tiring

(11:01) SPIDERMAN : I seriously almost just blocked you

(11:02) ૮ .◜◡◝ ა : wouldn't be the first

(11:02) NANA : JENO LEE

(11:02) ૮ .◜◡◝ ა : that is my name 😼

(11:02) RJ : I thought I silenced this group chat.

(11:03) Y/N : hi renjoon

(11:03) HUANG : I don't like that.

(11:03) DAEGAL'S DAD : HA Renjoon ... i’m gonna steal that

(11:03) RJ : sigh

(11:03) NANA : WAH, we are almost all here, where is Jisungie?

(11:05) Y/N : i dunno

(11:05) HUANG : idk

(11:05) ૮ .◜◡◝ ა : you both live with him, how about you get up and go look

(11:06) RJ : No

(11:06) DAEGAL'S DAD : well that's just lazy

(11:07) SPIDERMAN : That's pretty rich coming from you 🤨

(11:07) DAEGAL'S DAD : I know you're upset about Haechan dumping you but you don't have to be mad at the world 🤦‍♂

(11:07) NANA : I called it, someone send money

(11:07) ૮ .◜◡◝ ა : mark if you need a shoulder to cry on …

(11:07) ૮ .◜◡◝ ა : sit up straighter and wipe your tears

(11:08) NANA : LMFAO

(11:08) Y/N : funniest thing you’ve said in my years of knowing you, dog man

(11:09) ૮ .◜◡◝ ა : just be normal and laugh please

(11:08) SPIDERMAN : ...

(11:08) HAECHANNIE ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ : Markkk, breakups are hard ... I know I know

(11:09) JIJI ☆ : we're out of kimchi stew

(11:09) HAECHANNIE ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ : JISUNGIE

(11:09) SPIDERMAN : you're alive I see 🤨

(11:09) RJ : I know, I ate it

(11:10) Y/N : no fair I didn't get any???

(11:10) NANA : I have some, baby. My mom dropped some off last night. Come over.

(11:10) ૮ .◜◡◝ ა : I'll be over in ten

(11:11) Y/N : mind you, he invited ME.

(11:11) HAECHANNIE ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ : SLEEPOVER

(11:11) SPIDERMAN : Yo, I’m down :>

(11:11) JIJI ☆ : i’ll ride with renjun and baby

(11:12) NANA : I did not agree to any sleepover???

You let your gaze fall to your lap, glaring at your sweatpants as you mentally prepare yourself.

It would be easier if you just blurted out, “So, when are we getting freaky?”

But that wasn’t exactly… professional

Then again, this whole situation was already wildly unprofessional.

Maybe you should’ve just gone into sex blind-minded anyway. Jeno had introduced you to Eric a few times—he seemed nice enough not to make fun of you if you sucked.

"Are you going to sit there and mope the whole time, or are you actually going to eat?"

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you look up to see Chenle standing above you, a lazy smirk playing on his lips.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Mark and Haechan teasing Jisung, who groans dramatically, covering his ears.

Looks like Chenle won that round.

"Come on," Chenle says, grabbing your hand and pulling you up before you can respond. You barely have time to process before you're being dragged toward the kitchen, the murmur of the others fading into the background.

Your attention snaps to Luna, quietly eating from her bowl in the corner. You squeal, immediately kneeling down to pet her.

"Oh my god, you're so big now!" You pepper kisses onto her head, earning a huff of annoyance but not a squirm.

Chenle chuckles, a knowing smirk on his face. "Daegal would have been betrayed to see you right now," he says, as he pours leftover kimchi jjigae into a pot on the stove.

You giggle, letting Luna go back to her meal as you dust off your knees. "She'd forgive me. After all, she likes me better than you," you say, playfully teasing Chenle.

He looks affronted, but you can see a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I'm her father. She doesn't like anyone more than me," he says, with a straight face. "Besides, I'm her favorite," he adds, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

You bite your lip, holding back a sly remark. "Right, right. I'll make the rice," you say, instead. As you wash the grains, you notice Chenle's gaze lingering on you.

“What?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

“What’s wrong?”

Your movements still.

“Nothing’s wrong, why are you asking that?”

He scoffs at your defensiveness, adding a few pieces of tofu that he must’ve cut when you were playing with Jaemin’s cat

“Because you’re being weird.”

Your mouth drops, “I’m being weird??”

“Uh Yeah?! I mean you’re barely around anymore ... it’s like ever since that night, you can’t stand to be around us– “

“That isn’t true– “

Chenle takes a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. "Then what is? What's wrong?" he asks, his voice softening.

You hate how you can't look him directly in the eyes anymore, your gaze shifting to your hands as you quietly put the rice in the cooker.

"Baby-" Chenle starts, his hand gently touching your waist, but before he can finish, the kitchen erupts with the arrival of the others.

Mark groans, "Can you guys cook any slower? I came here for free food, not to watch Jisung lose to everyone," walking in the kitchen with his hands ruffling his own hair.

Renjun and Haechan follow close behind, laughing, while Jisung bumps past them, heading towards you.

"Actually, I haven't played baby," he says, his arm stretching over your shoulders.

Renjun rolls his eyes, and Jeno waltz in, "That's cheating. She sucks just as much as you do."

You flash him a sarcastic smile, flipping him off, before pushing Jisung's arm off your shoulders. "Don't call me that. I'm literally older than you," you say, eyes narrowing.

Jisung scoffs, "And what everyone else gets to?"

"Well. no! You should all stop,"

Haechan chimes in, "Yeah, we should collectively stop calling her 'baby'."

You narrow your eyes but slowly nod at Haechan's very rare statement that you agreed with.

Jaemin walks in, his hair damp and a towel around his broad shoulders. "What's going on?" he asks, eyeing the scene.

Mark answers, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, "She wants us to stop calling her 'baby'." Jaemin pouts, "Why? It's a cute nickname."

Mark shrugs, "I guess she just doesn't like it anymore." You slap Jaemin's hands away when he tries to pinch your cheeks, "I always thought 'brat' was more fitting," Haechan says, earning a laugh from the others.

You roll your eyes, “That’s your title, not mine.”

“I agree, Haechan’s like a demon spawn and baby is a pure angel … sure, there's attitude here and there but we‘ve grown to tolerate it” Renjun hums.

The way they speak as if you aren't in the room will always bewilder you.

Jeno throws his head back as he laughs, “I don’t think she’s pure, she’s a pervert."

“Am not?! You’re the pervert– “

Mark shakes his head, tossing the now empty water bottle in the trash can. Another day of leading the dreamies.

“What about a few years ago, when you left those roleplay tabs open?”

Chenle cackles at the memory, and Jaemin snorts.

“Yeah, what was that about? I’m no kinkshamer ... but really?” Haechan tilts his head as he watches your reaction

"THAT WAS NOT ME?! " You exclaim.

“It’s okay if it was,”

Your neck snaps to Mark who just shrugs.

“Well, it wasn’t!”

The room falls silent as you face the others, scowl ever so prominent.

"What kind of roleplay was it?" Renjun asks casually.

“RENJUN??”

They burst out laughing, watching you pout over their teasing.

"Don't make it sound like we're asking for a confession or something." You shoot him a look, "Seriously though, if you know what you already like, it'd be nice to know before we start."

Your eyebrows shoot up after Renjun says that.

“…start what?”

Maybe you weren’t hearing him correctly, after all there’d been several times where you completely ignored the notification about your headphone volume being too loud.

Jaemin's expression turns serious. "Do you not recall your SOS call or what?" you sputter, trying to find your words. "I... I didn't think... um."

“Didn’t think what? that we still wanted you?”

Chenle, throws a piece of tofu at a smirking Jeno, “Stop doing that, you’re flustering her,”

Jaemin hisses, “Ah— not here, I have cats, Do that in your own home.”

“I don’t know, you guys just never brought it up, I thought ... I thought I made things awkward.”

Jisung hums, “I don’t think there’s any room for awkwardness.”

Haechan nods, “Yeah, and plus we were waiting until you felt comfortable, it isn’t like we could just come to your apartment like “Oh let the sex games begin””

You cackle at that. Haechan would definitely come to your apartment and say that but, you digress.

Mark interrupts, “Yeah but there will be no actual sex, remember.”

“Yeah, Yeah, you’re cockblocking once again, we get it.” Jeno nods off, throwing the tofu that landed on him away, but ends up hunched over coughing when Mark hits him in the stomach.

“So … do we plan this or...?” You nervously ask

“Well, that would be awkward ... just let it happen naturally.” Chenle shrugs

Right, naturally.

“Hey, ji?”

The younger boy hummed, not really listening as he lay on his back, his hands interlaced, lazily resting on his pelvis. You lay beside him, resting on your side, your head propped up on your elbow.

"When you lost your virginity, did it happen naturally?" you asked, your words hanging in the air.

He choked on his saliva, startled by the question. Usually, you'd tease him, but you were dead certain you'd react the same way.

He was wide awake now, and a hint of amusement played on his lips. "Is this why you wanted to sleep in my room tonight? Because you wanted to ask a cherry pop questionnaire?" he teased.

You dropped your head onto your hands, laughing at his silly comment. "Who even calls it that anymore? Popping the cherry?" You snorted. "I hate cherries."

He sucks in a breath, shaking his head, “You’re missing out,”

"Sure, now answer my question," you said, serious once more.

"I thought you'd forget about that," he sighed.

You scoffed. "How could I forget? I asked it seconds ago! Did you also think I'd forget all of the porn tabs too?"

He laughed and covered his face with his hands. You quickly grabbed them, holding them in place. "Yeah, and I'm still annoyed you let me take the heat at Jaemin's earlier!"

"They went easy on you," he whispered, meeting your gaze. "If they knew it was me, I wouldn't hear the end of it. You know that."

You'd always been jealous of his bright eyes, even in the dimly lit room, which was only illuminated by the TV's soft glow. "Whatever, you owe me one," you said, letting his hands go and adjusting your position so you were lying on your back.

The only sound in the room was your shared breathing, and the muted TV. He swallowed thickly before speaking up, his voice causing you to jolt slightly as you were drifting off to sleep.

"It was kind of in the heat of the moment... I think it's like that all the time," he said.

You turned to face him, "You think? Was the first time you lost it the only time?"

He nodded slowly, affirming your question.

You hummed, looking up at the ceiling. "Do you regret it?"

"I don't think so," he answered without hesitation.

“Maybe I’d prefer what you plan on doing, taking one step at a time ... I didn't get to try everything.”

Confused, you asked, "What do you mean?"

He sighed and brought his hand up to cover his eyes. "I've never gone down on someone before."

The room fell silent, and he quickly moved his hand to gauge your reaction. You attempted to hold in your laughter, but it slipped out.

He scoffs, his tongue brushing against the inside of his cheek as you laugh, leaning into his shoulder.

"I don't know why you're so nervous to tell me this stuff," he said. "I haven't gone down on anyone either."

He deadpanned, "Wow, I would've never guessed."

You hit his shoulder playfully. "Don't be a dick."

He laughed and shook his head. "My apologies."

Rolling your eyes, you leaned over his chest to grab your phone, which was charging beside him. It was four in the morning.

As you pulled back, you lay beside him, relieved that there were no schedules for the next few days. Maybe you'd visit that new café near Haechan's apartment.

Maybe you’ll go visit that new café that opened up near Haechan’s apartment—

"Can I try with you?" he asked, his words barely above a whisper.

"Pardon?" You were lost in thought.

"I'm not saying it again," Jisung groaned, turning over to face the wall in embarrassment.

"You want to try going... down on me?" he asked quietly.

He slowly turned back around, looking everywhere but at you. "Yeah... if that's okay...And maybe it could be helpful to you too."

You swallowed and nodded. "Okay."

Any and all thought you have of this whole ordeal being awkward was completely erased as you sat on Jisung’s lap, his hands tightly gripping your hips, as your hands ran through his hair as his tongue swirled against yours, he hesitantly pulled away when a whimper left your mouth, filling his.

Jisung’s breath was warm against your lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes flickering with hesitation. His fingers dug into your hips, grounding himself, and you could feel the way his chest rose and fell unevenly beneath you.

You swallowed, your own heartbeat hammering against your ribs. “You okay?” you murmured, searching his gaze.

He gave you a small nod, though his grip on you tightened just a little. “Yeah… just—this is…I’d never thought I’d be doing this with you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

A shaky scoff leaves your lips.

“Neither did I” was what you thought but not what left you.

“Do you want to?” your heart bangs in your chest when you ask ... to calm your nerves you start tracing your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp in a way that makes his breath hitch.

He let out a shaky chuckle, leaning his forehead against yours. “More than anything. I’ve… always wanted you like this”

“… I don’t wanna mess up.”

Jisung, despite his usual playful demeanor with you, was different.

Your heart clenched at his sincerity.

“You won’t,” you told him gently. “It’s just us. And I’m no pro at this either, you know”

He let out a shaky laugh then exhaled, nodding slightly before his hands shifted from your hips, sliding slowly up your sides as if memorizing the way you felt beneath his palms. His gaze dropped to your lips again, then lower. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Okay,” he breathed, more to himself than you. “I wanna try.”

You felt warmth creep up your neck, anticipation swirling in your stomach as you let him take the lead. His hands moved to the hem of your thin sleep shorts, fingers slipping beneath the fabric hesitantly, waiting for any sign of uncertainty from you.

But there was none.

How could there ever be?

You nodded, giving him silent permission.

Jisung sucked in a breath, eyes locked onto yours as he slowly laid you on your back, his fingers softly gliding over your cloth covered mound.

His eyes drifted to your chest rising and falling rapidly, cursing under his breath when he took notice of your perked nipples poking through the tank top you wore.

You suck in a breath as his hand softly rubs circles into your cunt. You wanted more.

Absentmindedly, your hips buck up into his moving palm, his lips parted slightly, as if in awe, and something about the way he looked at you made your stomach flip.

Neither of you spoke as he shifted, lying on his stomach, his eyes searched your face one last time, silently asking if you were still okay.

You cupped his cheek, thumb brushing against his skin, nodding.

His lips parted, a quiet breath escaping, and then—he kissed down your jaw, trailing lower.

And lower.

His breath was warm against your skin, and when his lips finally met the space just above your waistband, your fingers tightened in his hair.

Jisung exhaled shakily. “Tell me if I do something wrong,” he whispered.

Your heart pounded.

“You won’t,” you promised.

And then—he continued.

Jisung exhaled slowly, his fingers toying with the hem of your shorts as if giving himself time to process the situation. His hands were warm, slightly trembling, but determined.

You watched him with hooded eyes, your own breath uneven as his lips ghosted over your stomach. The anticipation was making every nerve in your body light up, heat pooling in your core as he finally—finally—started pulling your shorts down.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours, pupils blown wide with something between nervousness and hunger. “Still good?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

Jisung licked his lips, exhaling through his nose as he shifted lower. His hands squeezed your thighs gently before parting them, settling between them. You could feel the heat of his breath against the thin fabric of your underwear, and it made your whole body tense with anticipation.

You could feel your pussy, clench around nothing.

He hesitated for only a moment before pressing an experimental kiss against the inside of your thigh. Then another. And another. Each one slower, more deliberate, as he grew bolder.

No marks could be left on your neck, that was for sure, but your creamy inner thighs. No fan would ever be able to see that.

Soft love marks began to bruise the skin of your thighs as he sucked and licked.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, a shiver running up your spine. “Ji…” You weren’t sure what you were asking for, but the way he glanced up at you, lips slightly swollen, made your stomach flip.

“I just… wanna take my time,” he admitted, pressing one last lingering kiss to your thigh before his fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear. He pulled them down agonizingly slowly, his eyes locked onto the way you squirmed beneath him.

A curse left his lips watching your sticky cunt glisten in the dim room, your slick sticking to your panties as they came off.

Your breath hitched as the cool air met your heated skin, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of Jisung’s lips pressing tentatively against your pussy.

He couldn’t control himself once they were off, throwing them somewhere on the floor, before pressing his plump lips against your glimmering slit.

A sharp gasp left your lips, your back arching slightly. His hands tightened on your thighs, keeping you in place as he hesitated for only a second before licking a slow, tentative stripe up your slit.

Your fingers immediately found his hair, tugging lightly as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

“Fuck,” he murmured, almost as if to himself. “You’re so…”

He didn’t finish the sentence before he leaned in again, this time with more confidence, parting your pussy, his tongue flicking experimentally against your clit which he surprisingly found on the first try. The sensation made your hips jerk, and he chuckled softly against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

“Shit, Ji,”

The way your body was reacting, he continued, finding a rhythm—soft licks, slow circles, the occasional suction that made your head spin. Every now and then, he’d glance up, watching your reactions like he was committing them to memory.

You bit your lip, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Jisung—”

“Hm?” His voice was muffled, but the smirk in his tone was undeniable.

You groaned, throwing your head back as he pressed a kiss to your pussy hole, his finger slippery with your juice, playing with your clit, other hand gripping your thigh like he never wanted to let go.

Your hand roughly tugged on his hair as he messily slurped up your cunt, his tongue quickly flicking your throbbing clit.

He moaned, feeling the burning sensation on his scalp, the vibrations going straight to your pussy.

If you knew getting ate out felt this great, you would’ve explored a while ago.

Dare you say it felt better than those late nights where you couldn’t sleep and let your hand wander down your underwear?

Maybe.

A broken “Fuck,” left your trembling lips when his thumb traced your hole as he sucked your clit.

Yes. Yes, it was so much better than your own hand—

And then, just as you were starting to feel that familiar build in your stomach, he pulled back slightly, lips glistening, a dazed expression on his face.

“Was… was that good?” he asked, voice hoarse, lips slick and swollen.

You let out a breathless laugh, reaching down to cup his cheek. “Jisung… if you stop now, I might actually kill you.”

His eyes widened before a cocky grin slowly spread across his face that was shiny with your wetness.

“Well… can’t have that, can we?”

Biting your lip, you nod, watching him sit up on his knees, without blinking once, desperate for release.

His large hand lowered to his bulging cock that was practically begging for attention, through his sweatpants. You unfortunately didn’t look for long as he hovered over you, bringing his sticky lips to yours.

Your clit pulsed as you tasted yourself on his tongue once he swiped his with yours, deepening the kiss.

Maybe you were the pervert that Jeno thought you were.

Your eyes followed his hand that stroked himself through his sweats, you instinctively reached for him again, but he chuckled softly, shifting his hips back. "No sex, remember?" he teased

A snarky remark was plotting to escape you, but you immediately shut up as his hands slid to the back of your thighs, pushing them up to your chest.

The shift leaves both of you breathless.

You swore a moan left him, as he licked his lips gazing at your puffy cunt shiny with your own slick and his spit, even in the little light that the tv was providing.

His starry eyed gaze met yours again, “you’re perfect,”

Usually, you’d find some slick comeback for the members whenever they complimented and flustered you but considering the current situation, you had no choice but to pull out the default.

“Shut up,”

“I’m serious,” he mumbled, his finger sliding down to your cunt, pressing against your clit, watching as your cunt continued to leak with arousal.

Your eyes begin to flutter shut as he works small circles into your clit before your approaching orgasm is interrupted once again.

BANG

RATTLE

BANG

“Yo, Park Jisung—why is the door locked? Since when do we lock doors around here? Oh—wait, are you jerking off?”

Of course … Lee Donghyuck, the bane of your existence.

You completely forgot that he and Mark decided to crash at your place—well, technically Renjun and Jisung’s since you didn’t bother to pay the rent—after Jaemin kicked everyone out. Something about you all trying to serenade him into letting the sleepover happen and then spilling beer on his pink rug.

The doorknob rattles aggressively again, and you sigh in defeat.

Both you and Jisung know Haechan isn’t going to quit unless he gets in.

Jisung sighs as well, pulling back from you with a quiet, “Sorry.”

SIGHHH.

“Go away, Donghyuck!”

“You’re in there too? Why are you two locking me out? What did I do? Let’s all cuddle and make up,” he dramatically whines, and you hear the sound of him sliding down the door.

You groan, sitting up with a cringe at the mess between your legs and the damp spot beneath you. Jisung laughs, helping you stand and pull your sleep shorts back on.

He takes note of the grumpy pout on your face, about to say something—

But he’s interrupted by Haechan’s loud, off-key rendition of All by Myself, inevitably butchering a few words.

Your frown doesn’t last long as Renjun yells from the hallway, telling him to shut the hell up.

With a sigh, you look up at Jisung, who’s watching you with a soft giggle as you lift the hem of his shirt to wipe his wet face.

“Hey—what’s so funny in there? Let. Me. In.”

The two of you ignore your dramatic member, Jisung, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Just come back to my room when everyone’s asleep.”

Your heart stutters in your chest as you nod, pursing your lips, which he gladly accepts, kissing you back.

With a deep inhale and exhale, you make sure you’re presentable before walking over to the door. Turning back, you see Jisung hurriedly stripping the sheets off his bed, tossing them into the corner.

Unlocking the door, you’re met with a disheveled Haechan sprawled out on the floor, wearing the shirt you gifted Renjun for his last birthday.

He sits up, squinting at you suspiciously before peering past you into the room—immediately locking eyes with Jisung, who freezes on the spot.

Right. The whole ordeal had made you forget just how much of a scaredy-cat he was.

You don’t stick around to witness the aftermath.

“Hello, CHEATER!” Haechan shouts behind you as you walk off.

Reaching the body-length mirror in the hallway, you frown at your flustered reflection. Your hair is a mess—no doubt from being sprawled out on Jisung’s bed. You try to smooth it down quickly.

“The hell happened to you?”

Your eyes snap up, meeting another set of eyes in the mirror.

Jeno.

“Nothing,” you blurt. “Why would you ask that? What happened to you? And why are you even in my house? You—You—nothing happened. Don’t ask me that.”

He raises a brow, trying (and failing) to fight off a smirk.

Nice. Real nice save.

Jeno inhales sharply, turning away—but not before muttering a sarcastic, “Right… My bad.”

You need a shower. And a hole to dig yourself into. Fast.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Moon

summary: So, Claire had been working with Mr. Anderson, you and Xavier hadn't been speaking, the Homecoming dance had been on the horizon, and no one had been any closer to getting answers. But, hell, you and Wally had made progress in...other ways.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smutty smut smut. mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER MOON pt.1

Aurora chatted merrily at you as she drove you to school, the radio playing Top 40 hits between the DJs' try-hard youthful banter and super exciting, don't miss out contests to win tickets to things you couldn't summon an interest in. Which was apparently suspect, because Aurora kept shooting you looks of sisterly concern.

As she turned into the school parking lot, she lowered the volume and said, "You know the answer to that question," as if she'd peeled back your layers and uncovered your growing treasury of secrets. She pulled into the drop-off zone, put the car in park, and turned to you, "Are you and Baxy still fighting?"

Yes.

And no.

Band practice on Saturday had been tense and awkward, but you and Xavier had made it through without Hana or Lucas or Eli commenting on it. Of course, they'd probably been pretending with everything in them that nothing was wrong for the sake of the upcoming performance. Whatever. You hadn't had to spin another tale of deceit and Xavier hadn't had to confess to cheating on Maddie to your face, so win-win.

Neither of you had even attempted to speak since, barely making eye contact when you happened to be in the same space. Mathilda had informed you that Xavier had been spending his free time with Sandra Nears, which had caught you off guard, because what? Why?

"Sort of," You finally said, tilting your head back against your seat and closing your eyes. "We're not fighting but we're not talking," you summed up as you rolled your head to the side to look at Aurora. From the corner of your eye, you saw Ajay step tentatively up to the driver's side. Hands in his pockets, gaze soft, peering at Aurora like a long-lost friend who needed to remember what it felt like to be known by someone.

And, as it had been every day since Aurora had started driving you to school, she simply sniffed the air, frowned in thought, and then shooed you out of the car with a final statement. Today's was, "You guys will be fine. Things feel a lot bigger at your age than they are. Trust me."

"Thanks for the pep talk, Rory, you nailed it." You muttered, climbing out and giving Ajay an apologetic look. Part of you understood why Aurora couldn't acknowledge that she sensed Ajay. The "Golden Rule" and a lifetime of family gospel. But. But...there was a twist in your gut as you watched her drive away, the stink of her tea clung to your hair and clothes after you'd had to sit in it for the fifteen-minute drive. Something wasn't right.

What else is new? You thought. The sheer amount of holy fuck that had cascaded into your life over the last two weeks had numbed you to anything that should be a shock or surprise. A literal alien could pop up and declare that it'd burgled Maddie's body to blend into the human ecosystem. It could return it and then rocket back to outer space to report its findings to the Mother Ship, and you? Wouldn't be fazed. Thanks so much for stopping by, dust your hands off, onto the next thing.

Or maybe you were strung out on that awful tea stench and needed to diffuse it with real coffee and one of Wally's deep, handsy, distracting kisses that you'd been indulging in all week. The connection between you and him had remained rampant and alive in the wake of last week's mass hysteria. You could feel it even now, tugging you toward the back of the school, eager and impatient to find Wally.

"She didn't say anything, did she?" Ajay's voice interrupted your pining, solemn as he stared after the car.

You didn't reply for a moment, pondering the lips-sealed angle Aurora could be taking with Ajay's presence. "She probably doesn't want to say anything. Our family takes keeping secrets very seriously," you offered, yet that didn't sit right with you.

Ajay glimpsed down at you, "Even from each other?"

No. Not usually. Although no one discussed the ghosts at Split River High (or anywhere else around town), it was more out of mutual understanding than considered outright taboo. In the past, you'd shared a few crush-riddled anecdotes with Aurora about tricks you'd seen Wally do on the field that would've landed a living person in the ER. Those days felt like forever ago. She'd still been based in New York, pursuing a career in public relations. You'd called her every week to fill her in on the shenanigans you'd seen the ghosts commit and she'd giggled along and teased you for the obvious heart-eyes you'd had (have) for the Devils' Number 57.

A year later, she'd moved home, Dave in tow, and things had shifted. Your mother's business had expanded, Uncle Andrew had relocated to an apartment in Milwaukee—only home every other weekend—and no one talked about connectedness or magic or ghosts unless it absolutely had to be discussed. Usually to the tune of, "don't let them know you can see."

You sighed and rocked sideways, knocking your shoulder into Ajay's arm. "She remembers you," you assured him, grinning, "She brought home Bollywood Grill on Tuesday."

"That's not offensive," Ajay rolled his eyes though he snickered, clearly amused by the thought that Aurora's cravings were dictated by the smell she associated with him.

"I'm just saying, she obviously sensed you."

Ajay hummed, stood for a moment longer, and then, "It doesn't feel like it did," he conveyed. "The air is thicker around her." When you gave him a confused look, he shrugged, "I don't know how to explain it better than that."

"Fair enough," You supposed.

As you and Ajay turned toward the school, Simon jogged up to meet you, nodding his head cordially at Ajay before telling you, "I followed Claire home yesterday—"

"Terrifying."

"—and she stopped at Mr. Anderson's again. She waited outside his place for twenty minutes before she gave up. He never came out."

Ajay chewed his lip before asking, "Do we still think they're part of a newly reestablished Something-Something of Dagda?"

"You mean The Emerald Order," You supplied.

In the subsequent days after the nightmare in the theater, you'd managed to gather scraps of information about the cult. Archived forums online and newspaper clippings at the town library. There wasn't much apart from one headline, "Scandal at Maheive Manor". Several wealthy and influential men and women had disappeared during a party they'd all supposedly attended in 1925. It wasn't until 1926 that the bodies had been discovered, one at a time, over the span of a month. The blame had been laid at the feet of three former Maheive estate staff who'd pled their innocence right until the firing squad had pulled their triggers.

You glanced between Ajay and Simon, "I think it's too soon to say for sure. Amelia and Anabelle had a lot of help to get them to the final ritual. If Amelia's still around, she'll need more than a high school cheerleader and her English teacher to get things moving."

Simon see-sawed his head as he contemplated your statement. "Don't forget Claire has her little army of Chanels. And her step-dad definitely has the money to bankroll a shadowy organization like the Something-Something."

"Emerald Order," You corrected, and then, "You think Claire is smart enough or convincing enough to singlehandedly assemble that many people?" You asked.

"If they're gullible, sure." Simon said.

Ajay, pointed out, "And wasn't Alastair able to singlehandedly do that? That's what Amelia and Anabelle used him for. Claire herself might not have the right connections, but her parents probably do. Claire could just be the next tool in Amelia's culty kit of malice."

Simon smirked at Ajay, "Poetic."

Grateful, "I try."

You and Simon parted ways at your lockers with a promise to catch up at lunch. Ajay lingered for a moment longer, mind as distant as his gaze.

"Still no sign of Mina?" You asked quietly. Despite everyone assuring you that last Friday's events weren't your fault, you carried the guilt of it all the same. Those had been your memories, Aiden had been your brother. And if Mina, like the others, had been subject to a piece of your past so terrible it'd spooked her, you couldn't see how it wasn't your fault she'd gone into hiding.

"Not even a glimpse," Ajay reported, mouth weighed down at the corners, "I've looked everywhere...it's like she vanished."

A hand on his shoulder, "We'll find her," you promised.

Ajay pressed a tight smile to his lips and nodded in thanks, but you could tell that, as much as he wanted to, he didn't believe it. Eventually, he cleared his throat and changed the subject altogether, informing you, "Wally's outside. He's doing drills."

You chuckled, "Ah, yes, the big game's tonight."

"You'd better be there," Ajay warned with a slight glimmer in his eye, "He wants his girl to see him bring the Bandits to victory." For the last part, Ajay impersonated a hyped sports commentator and then a roaring crowd, shaking his fists in the air like he'd just won the Super Bowl.

You guaranteed, "I wouldn't miss it for the world," because you wouldn't. A kid at Christmas, Wally had been amped since Monday, pulling you onto the field after school to show you how to toss the ball well enough for him to practice catching. It was fun, although you refused to admit it. Every time you stubbornly announced, "Sports are sooo dumb," he could read through you and would tackle you (gently, playfully) and tickle you until you submitted. Laying under him, giggling, before he'd stop, breathless, grinning, and gaze into your eyes, lean down, brush his lips to yours—

The fact was you were looking forward to it. To the game, to the celebration, to the dance; it would be a welcome reprieve from the stress and uncertainty you'd found yourself up against recently.

"Tell him to be in the gym in half an hour," Ajay said as he gave you a quick side hug, dutifully checking to make sure the coast was clear. He then sauntered off to join his fellow Group members to prepare for Wally's big night.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally was halfway through a set of burpees when the connection between you and him exploded in his chest, causing him to almost fall flat on his face. Thankfully, he caught himself and snapped to his feet, wiped his forehead with a towel that he draped over his shoulder, and turned to watch you walk onto the field.

Fuck. You looked good. You always looked good, but today you looked particularly edible. Short skirt, curve-hugging top, hair tied up to show off the soft curve of your neck. He licked his lips and openly stared as your hips swayed with every step. Wally was keyed up, he knew, because of the big game, but so much of it was also the time he'd finally been able to spend with you without constant interruptions and impending doom.

"Hey pretty girl," He said as you got close enough for him to hook his arm around your waist and yank you into him. His eyes went heavy and dark, his hand sliding down your back to the curve just above your ass, "You come to see me workout?"

You blushed so pretty, pink cheeked and Bambi eyed. "I came to tell you that you have thirty minutes before you gotta be in the gym," You replied, a sweet little smile on your lips that Wally wanted to bite. "You're getting your sweat all over me," You complained, scrunching your nose up at him.

Wally leaned in close, nipped your earlobe, his voice low and husky, "Don't pretend you don't like it, baby." His hand slipped lower to sneak under your skirt while his lips grazed the soft skin on your neck. He heard you gasp, your body arching into his, and he grinned victoriously.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Clark," You advised in a light, breezy tone, leaning back to look him in the eye. "I have class in ten minutes."

Wally pouted, "I don't even get a kiss?"

You laughed, head thrown back, beautiful, "Fine, one kiss, but then you'd better freshen up and make an appearance. I hear there's a banner you're responsible for."

"There is a banner," Wally agreed with pride. "And balloons." He narrowed his eyes in thought, "And I'm thinking of a crown of sparklers."

"Because that's safe," You scoffed playfully.

Wally shrugged, "Can't get more dead." And then he dipped his head and captured your lips with his, the connection between you like fireworks behind his ribs. He kissed you until you and he were breathless, rested his forehead against yours, willing his body to cooperate and calm the fuck down otherwise he didn't know what he'd do. Well, that was a lie. He totally did. He'd pin you to the grass and remind you of the effect you had on him. Twice. "Fuck, baby," He murmured before he licked into your mouth and kissed you hungrily, hands gliding over your waist and hips and lower.

You broke the kiss with a whimper that went straight to his cock, petitioning, "Class. Test. Seven minutes." The connection flared as if it refused to believe that that was a good reason to stop things from progressing.

Unfortunately for the connection, Wally was raised a gentleman and offered, "I'll walk you to class, pretty girl," letting you go with a pinch to your ass cheek and a boyish grin.

"You wanna carry my books, too?"

"And see your teacher freak out when they appear out of thin air?" Wally chuckled, "Absolutely."

He didn't do that. He knew better than to mess with the status quo. But he still enjoyed the banter between you and him as he walked you to the third floor.

"You're coming tonight, right?" He asked just as you and he neared your math class.

You stopped and turned to him, "Of course I am. And, I have a surprise for you. So you have to meet me before you get on the field, big guy."

Wally perked up, "A surprise?" And then he recalled the surprise you'd brought him and Charley yesterday. "Is it Max's?" He asked, excited. Max's Diner had been his favorite spot when he'd been alive. An old-school greasy spoon even in the '80s. Wally's parents had worked there when they'd been teenagers; it had been how they'd met. The diner held a special place in Wally's heart and he'd almost cried when you'd presented him with his go-to order: Double cheese burger, extra pickles, extra fries, and a large coke.

"Not quite," You said with a wince, "but I think you'll like it just as much..."

"Then I can't wait, baby," Wally said, glancing up and down the hall before leaning in to press his lips to yours once more. It was turning into an addiction. And since he was going to get caught up in game prep and might not see you for the remainder of the day, he took his time, impressing everything he felt into that kiss and smiling when he heard you release a pleasured sigh.

"You suck," You groused when he finally released you, "I'm going to fail and it'll be your fault."

Wally smirked, admittedly proud of himself, yet he maintained, "You'll be fine, you've got this. We went over everything three times yesterday and you got everything right."

God, there was that blush he was starting to love so much, "You are a good tutor. Even if you can be distracting."

"Get in there and kill it, baby," He encouraged, winked, watched as you disappeared into the classroom, and then he turned to head to the gym as instructed, fantasizing about what your surprise later could be. However, as the connection between you and him dimmed, his senses flooded back in beyond how you felt and tasted and...smelled—he caught a whiff of something off-putting and familiar.

Pinching his shirt, he brought the fabric to his nose and sniffed.

Heady.

Floral.

Like licking soap.

Without a second thought, Wally spun around and rushed into the classroom. The teacher was already behind his desk correcting another class's papers, the room study hall hushed as everyone read over their test sheets. Wally hurried to the back of the class where you were sat, hunched over your sheet with the eraser end of your pencil between your teeth.

The connection between you and Wally sparked to life again and caused you to glance up before he even reached your seat. Your eyes widened when you saw him approach in a panic, but you otherwise remained still, as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. He crouched beside your desk, careful not to touch you, gaze supplicating.

"Why do you smell like that?" Wally asked in a whisper though no one else could hear him.

He watched you surreptitiously sniff your hair, make a face of revulsion, and then write in the corner of your test sheet, Aurora's tea which you erased as soon as you knew Wally had read it.

Wally swallowed, nervous, and looked back at you, "I smelled that in the cellar the night Aiden died." He explained, "It was on your breath. And in one of the glass things I picked up."

You stared at him, dumbfounded, for a split second before taking a deep breath and raising your hand. Wally had no clue what you were thinking as you slid out of your desk, leaning most of your weight on your other hand that held the back of your chair.

"Mr. Davis?" You said, and Wally was shocked at how weak you sounded, like you were—oh. "Mr. Davis, I don't feel well, may I please be excused?"

Mr. Davis stood and scrutinized you, brow deeply furrowed, "Are you sure this can't wait?"

You shook your head, took one, two small steps and then, whoops, fell forward. Or, your body did. Your ghost remained upright, freaking out at Wally, "You're sure it was the same smell?"

Wally nodded, his eyes on your unconscious form on the floor. "Did that hurt?" He had to wonder.

"Probably. I won't feel it until—"

And there you went, back into your body as soon as Mr. Davis' hands were on you to check you over. The class was in chaos, students shifting and hovering over your limp form. Mr. Davis instructed someone to fetch the school nurse and three students took it upon themselves to do the honors. By gentle degrees, your eyes fluttered open and you came to, looking for all the world like you'd genuinely fainted due to some unknown affliction. A sad Victorian child, pale and weak.

Oh, you were good, Wally mused, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing.

You sat up, blinked at Mr. Davis, and again asked to be excused. The school nurse dashed in and fussed over you for a moment until she discerned you could stand on your own two feet, "No need to call an ambulance," she said when you'd answered a series of questions she'd posed. "Probably dehydration or stress."

To be on the safe side, Mr. Davis dismissed you. Wally accompanied you to the nurse's office where you were given a glass of water and orders to lay down on the sofa for ten minutes. Wally sat on the ground, back against the bottom of the sofa, shaking his head at your sad panda-like reflexes.

"You just dropped like a sack of potatoes, baby, what were you thinking?"

Peeking out from beneath the cold compress the nurse had handed you, you noticed the nurse had left the room to speak to someone in the hall. Free to answer, you justified, "I was thinking that someone told me they smelled my sister's gross tea the night my little brother was killed by a woman wearing my friend's dad's body." You sat up to give Wally a significant look, "What else was I supposed to do without possibly failing that test?"

Wally conceded that that had been the best way to leave and avoid a bad grade or accusations of cheating. "Next time, maybe don't do something that'll leave a bruise," Wally said softly, reaching up and brushing the backs of his fingers down your cheek where a red mark was blossoming into a bruise from the angle at which you'd hit the floor.

"No promises," You grinned.

Ten minutes later, the nurse cleared you and gave you a note to give to the secretary to dismiss you for the rest of the day should you feel you needed it. Wally wished you could use it just to spend that freedom with him instead, but you reminded him that Mr. Martin would be heavily involved in the rest of Wally's day and that might not go down so well.

Hey, Mr. M, this is one of now three living people who can see us that we lied to you about. Also there's a cult and, oh, hey, did you know Janet was evil or did she move on by complete coincidence right when things got crazy?

Wally agreed, "Yeah, let's not do that." He led you into an empty classroom where you and he could brainstorm what the hell that smell meant, if it meant anything, which...it had to, right? He was quickly learning everything was connected in some random way, no matter how absurd.

"You're sure it's the same smell?" You wanted to know, propped against the wall, thumbnail between your teeth.

Wally leaned in close and breathed in your hair, "Yeah, exactly the same. It smelled a lot stronger in the science glass than it does on you now, but it's identical." He confirmed.

A few beats as the gears turned in your head, "My Nanna drinks that tea, too. So does Dave. And, honestly, I haven't noticed anything different about anyone. They're all still them." You said, appearing to have trouble connecting the right dots.

"It could mean nothing," Wally rationalized, "Maybe there's an ingredient missing that was in the stuff I smelled versus what's in your sister's tea, who knows."

He saw you process that and then something seemed to come to you, "When I was in that...memory or whatever, the kids Amelia and the others transferred into...they smelled kind of like it." Your gaze caught Wally's, brows knitted in worry, "It wasn't exactly the same but it was close enough. Really flowery. Like—"

"Licking soap?" Wally finished. "It might be related."

"Or it might not." You groaned, pressing your fingertips into your eyes. "Why do I feel like we have all the pieces, but we're putting together two puzzles that might not have anything to do with each other?"

Stepping into your space, Wally took your hands in his and lowered them, kissing your forehead before resting his against it. "We're getting there, baby. We'll figure it all out."

"I hope so," You murmured and Wally could tell you were overwhelmed. "Do you remember any of the ingredients you saw on the shelf?"

"Yeah, a lot of them." He leaned back and searched your expression. "Want me to write them down for you?"

You nodded, "Yes please."

With a gentle smile and soft eyes, "I got you, baby girl," Wally assured. "I'll give it to Maddie to give to you." At your adorably lost face, Wally said, "Like you said, Mr. Martin is gonna be heading my hype committee and will probably want me around for my input all day. Maddie, on the other hand, has a habit of disappearing at random."

You chuckled, "Gotchya," and drew Wally into a short, but very hot kiss. One that got Wally's everything running. He moaned against your lips, hands trailing down your hips to your thighs then under your skirt, pressing you more firmly against him.

"You gotta stop doing that," He said with a heavy exhale.

"Doing what?"

Wally nipped your lower lip, flicked his tongue to soothe the sting and kissed you dirty and deep before telling you, "Making my god damn brain melt."

You giggled and told him in no uncertain terms, "Definitely no promises..."

💀___________________________

PROLOGUE - PART TWO

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Angel Dust: “D’ya ever get a weird feelin’ about this place?”

Husk: “Yeah. Sweet an sickening. Like fucking syrup.”

Angel Dust: “NEVER fuck usin’ syrup UGH.”

Niffty: “I think the floor right under the second story banister railings feels weirdest! Almost bouncy when you SMASH into it!”

Angel Dust: “Not what I meant, NFT. It’s more like-”

SOMETHING: (blurs past the open door behind them)

Door: (...crreeeeks softly on it’s hinges...)

Them: (turns and stare)

Angel Dust: “…it’s like, a cold draft, innit?”

Husk: (spooked) (fur fluffed) “Cheap as fuck place. Run down.”

Niffty: “Prime roach real estate!”

Angel Dust: “Unsettlin’. The word I’m lookin’ for is, unsettlin’.”

EYES: (blink open and glow in the shadowy corner above them.)

Angel Dust: “Creepy, even.”

EYES: (rotate 360 degrees) (still staring)

Angel Dust: “I dunno. Don’t ya just get the shivers sometimes in here? Brr.” (shudders)

Husk: “Guess the eternal pep can be kinda fucked up from the owner. No one in hell is really that fucking happy all the fucking time.”

Niffty: “I AM!!!”

Husk: “No one who’s not fucking Niffty is that happy in hell.”

Niffty: “I LOVE it here. You only got to die ONCE back in the living world.”

Angel Dust: “Once should be enough for anyone, Niffters.”

Niffty: (giggling) “Not for me! Not when it's comes to eating spiders.”

Husk: “Oh FUCK that-”

Niffty: “Think the thing watching us right now also eats spiders?”

Husk: “…”

Angel Dust: “…”

EYES: (blink) (vanish)

The Three of Them: (turn and stare)

Angel Dust: “….Husker? Any room in ya bed for guy who doesn’t wanna be alone tonight?”

Husk: “Fuck no. Anyone tries getting in my room tonight is being served a motherfucking Molotov cocktail on the house.”

Angel Dust: “I can make it worth ya while. Tire us both out so’s maybe we can get some actual sleep.”

Husk: “You think I’m gonna fucking sleep?”

Niffty: “Sometimes I eat the spiders in my sleep…”

Husk: “Niffty, I need you fucking shut up talking in that creepy little girl voice.”

Niffty: “Okay! But whyyyy~?”

Husk: “THAT’S fucking WHY.”

Angel Dust: “-shh! SHH SHHHH! D’ya hear that!?”

Husk: “Wh- don’t fucking touch me-”

Angel Dust: (strangling him a little with holding) “Husk holy shit!”

Husk: (claws out) (super floofed) “What? WHAT??”

Niffty: “Ohhh…..”

Angel Dust: “It’s COMIN’!”

Niffty: “Nooo it’s naaaw-auuuught~”

Husk: “WELL WHICH THE FUCK IS IT-!?”

Niffty: “It’s Here~”

SOMETHING: (drops in from the open window)

Them: (SCREAM)

Vaggie: “Have you guys seen- Stop screaming it’s just me- have any of you seen Charlie around?”

Husk: “FUCK! FUCK!!!”

Angel Dust: “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, MISS I CUNT USE THE FREAKING DOORS!”

Husk: “FUUUCK ME FUCK YOU FUCK ALL OF THIS-”

Niffty: “Aww.” (slumps) “Hi Vaggie….”

Vaggie: “Yeah hey… What’s got into you all?”

Angel Dust: “Into US? YoU-”

Niffty: “We’ve been terrified. It’s been fun!”

Husk: “YOUR FUCKING SHIT HOTEL IS FUCKING HAUNTED! Shit!”

Angel Dust: “You and ya rich girlfriend have hell’s worst unpaying guest creepin’ around, and ya wonder what’s up with US?!?!”

Vaggie: “Oh. So you have seen her.”

Niffty: “Ohhh…! It’s a her!”

Angel Dust: “HER WHO WHO HER YOU KNOW THE WHORE OF HAUNTING?”

Vaggie: “Sure. And don’t fucking call her that.”

Husk: “I don’t wanna fucking know I don’t wanna fucking know I don’t wanna I don’t wanna no no no fuck NO-”

Vaggie: (rolls eye)

Vaggie: “Sweetie? Can you stop with the friendship notes and come out now?”

Something: (from shadows) “I’m bi!”

Vaggie: (smiles) “Out in the open where they can see you, babe.”

Charlie: “Aww, Vaggieeee…” (slips out of shadows with notebook and pout) “You’re messing with the sterile observed conditions and data collection. They were bonding!”

Angel Dust: “TOOTS!?”

Husk: “Oh.. fuck… you.”

Vaggie: “They sure were clinging to each other at least.”

Husk: “Fuck you MORE I fucking wasn’t.”

Angel Dust: “TOOTS I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DIE!”

Vaggie: “Weren’t stopping him from climbing you like a tree though, were you?”

Charlie: “Sorry about that, Angel Dust. I just got so excited-”

Husk: “Get. Fucked.”

Vaggie: “My girlfriend takes care of that already thanks.”

Angel Dust: “EXCITED? To be stalkin’ a guy like he’s a freaking gazelle on a shitty nature doc that skips all the fucking an’ only shows the non-sexy rippin’ an tearin’ an eatin’ alive bits!?”

Charlie: “Well-”

Niffty: “Hi Charlie! Were you watching us like bugs in a bug trap? Right before they get SQUISHED?”

Charlie: “-um no. No I wasn’t-”

Niffty: “Awww why nooooooooot?”

Charlie: “I wasn’t... trying to?”

Husk: “Oh that’s not fucking terrifying to fucking hear.”

Angel Dust: “TRY HARDER NOT TO NEXT TIME! Ugh! I’m too shaky to even make a hardness pun- AND I think this gave me STRESS WRINKLES. I WORK WITH THIS FACE! Among other body parts- I cannot fucking AFFORD wrinkles, Charmeleon!”

Charlie: “Aw guys I’m sorry! I just saw you three chatting together and.” (waves notebook) “Y’know?”

Vaggie: “I know, babe.”

Angel Dust: “NO!?”

Husk: “Fuck. No.”

Niffty: “Nope! I would’ve gone STRAIGHT into hunt and kill mode!”

Husk: “Which is what it fucking FELT like you fucking did.”

Charlie: “Ooookay then, my bad. But! You all feel better now you know it was just me, right?”

Them: “….”

Charlie: “B- because you know I’d never actually hunt any of your through the halls of my hotel. Right?”

Them: “……”

Charlie: “…you, you guys know you’re safe here and I didn’t bring you here for some fucked up creepy personal murder torture reason… right…?”

Them: “……….”

Niffty: (raises hand) “I-”

Charlie: “NIFFTY THANK YOU!! See? She believes-”

Niffty: “I felt really GREAT thinking you were hunting me for sport! Can I go back to thinking that?”

Charlie: “-that, you, oh. No that’s-” (droops) “…sure … whatever makes you happy, Niffty.”

Niffty: “YAY FEAR!” (hugs Charlie’s knees) (skitters away)

Angel Dust: “Oh yippie. Getting’ high off my ass and blackin’ all this out from my memory will make ME happy.” (flounces off) “Sweet dreams, toots! I sure as hell won’t be havin’ ‘em!”

Charlie: “I’m sor-”

Husk: “Anyone fucking needs me, don’t.”

Charlie: “Husk, I really-”

Husk: (already gone)  

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “….. fuck.”

Vaggie: “It’ll be fine.” (pats Charlie gently) “Don’t freak out about it. They’re just, shook up.”

Charlie: (tired) “Except Niffty.”

Vaggie: “Niffty’s uhhh, she seems like the exception to most things yeah.”

Charlie: “She likes being scared of me.”

Vaggie: “Well. Thrilled? By you? I mean she gets her kicks out of it, so…”

Charlie: “I don’t like being scary.”

Vaggie: “You’re not.”

Charlie: “I scared them.”

Vaggie: “Startled and creeped out a little. It’s not the same thing.”

Charlie: “Isn’t it? I’m- I hate that I'm-”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “You. Are. Not.”

Charlie: “But-”

Vaggie: (takes hand) “You’re a lot of things, Charlie Morningstar. Sometimes you’re a lot of those lot of things- which I love-”

Charlie: “Heh.”

Vaggie: “But being scary just by existing? Isn’t one of them. You can be you, all the way, the whole demon princess Charlie package- and not scare anyone. I promise."

Charlie: "Tell that to my ex..."

Vaggie: "I'll carve it into his stupid fucking skull- kidding! I'm kidding."

Charlie: "I'd believe that more if you hadn't already tried."

Vaggie: "Well believe me NOW when I'm trying to say- You can get scary when someone you love is hurt or threatened, sure. That's, not a bad thing. There's nothing about you that you need to hide to have people in your life. Living with you, every part of you, is great."

Charlie: "....."

Vaggie: "Charlie c'mon- I should know. If we’re talking observed data and stuff, I’ve already got three years of it. Right?”     

Charlie: “…right.” (weak smile) “I did it again though, didn’t I?”

Vaggie: “What, the intensely following around someone you’ve invited into your home trying to figure out how to make them feel more comfortable without bothering them or spooking them, working hard not to let them see how you spend hours just staring at them, taking in every little detail you can, but staring so hard they can feel it on the back of their neck anyway?”

Charlie: “And you’re sure that’s not scary. Like at all.”

Vaggie: “I always thought is was cute. Intense and a kinda worrying sign of how alone you’d been, sure, but cute.”

Charlie: “Hmph.”

Vaggie: (leans up to smooch her) “And our hazbins will too. Just give ‘em time.”

Charlie: “Our hazbins?” (grins) “Our? Oh now THAT’S cute.” (opens book and scribbles note) “Today… Vaggie.. bonded with…”

Vaggie: “I did not.”

Charlie: “…OUR- underline underline add some hearts- hazbins!”

Vaggie: “Charlie I didn’t. I barely even spoke with them.”

Charlie: “You’re comparing them to your past self and making connections between you when we first met and them now, aren’t you. You’re empathizing with them! That’s bonding! That’s ADORABLE!!”  

Vaggie: (sigh) “That’s my cue to drag you off to bed.”

Charlie: “You’re adorable~”

Vaggie: “Says the cute demon lady lovingly stalking her new friends.”

Charlie: “Do you think they’ll be friends with me? I mean I’m friends with them, but-”

Vaggie: “Charlie, they’ve met you. It’s inevitable.”

Charlie: “Heheh. Juuuust like this kiss~”

(smooch)

(smooch some more)

Vaggie: “Whoa there!” (chuckling) “Save it for the bed sweetie, or we’ll never get there.”

Charlie: (giggling) “Sorry. I’m not used to not having everything all to ourselves. And I suppose making out in the public areas wouldn’t be very polite, even in the middle of the night with no one around.”

Vaggie: “Probably. We’ve freaked them out enough for one day I think.”

Charlie: “There are definite downsides to having a hotel with actual other people living in it, huh….”

Vaggie: “Worth it?”

Charlie: “Mm. I hope so. I hope they’ll think so too.”

Vaggie: “They will, babe. They will.”

-Next Night-

-Alastor’s Radio Tower-

Alastor: (humming and happily prepping the next track for broadcast)

SOMETHING: (slowly rises up beyond the window behind him)

Alastor: (ears twitch) (adjust audio balance knob)  

SOMETHING: (presses against window)

Window: (Distinctive flesh-dragging-across-glass sound)

Alastor: (stops)

SOMETHING: (fades into shadows)

Alastor: (turns)

Window: (has smudge mark on it)

Alastor: “….hmm…” (walks over) (wipes window) (smudge stays bc it’s on the outside) “Interesting...”

Alastor: (goes back to disc jockeying)

SOMETHING: (reaches up and drags finger through smudge mark)

Alastor: (stops and turns)

Alastor: “Ohoho? My my my, now isn’t THIS just droll! Who COULD have left a message here for me. On my own radio tower! Smudging my glass! (smirks and walks over) “Hmm? Something dire and THREATENING no doubt? Not something they will REGRET I am SURE ha ha ha!”

Alastor: (bends down to read) “It appears to say…”

Window: (smudge has the word ‘FRIENDS’ written through it)

Alastor: (snaps back upright) (stares) (steps back) (stares harder)

Alastor: “…how… amusing.”

Alastor: (goes back to control panel)

Alastor: “….”

Alastor: (relaxes) (picks up microphone and holds it casually at the ready)

Alastor: (reaches for a record-)

SOMETHING: (slips past window behind him)

Alastor: (turning) (Shrieking) “KKKKSSSSSSSSFKKKSST” (yeets record out through window)

Window: (shatters)

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “….hope that one wasn’t important, pendejo. It’s on the first floor now. In about a hundred pieces.”

Alastor: (lowering microphone) “Oh my dear I DO apologize!” (simpering) (Glowering) “Poor thing. Not hurt, are you? Not frightened at all I hope? Really I don’t know WHAT would have happened if I had happened to HIT you!”

Vaggie: “Me frightened? No.” (tosses cleaning rag over shoulder) “The scary little smudge is gone anyway, so I’m off. Bye.”

Alastor: “Oh delightful! You KNOW ABOUT-”

Vaggie: (gone)

Alastor: “……hmmmmmm….”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “She’s so hot when she’s all ‘doesn’t even blink when something almost would've decapitated her if she hadn’t casually leaned back’ isn’t she?”

Alastor: (shriek is broadcast all over Pentagram city, shattering the remaining windows in his radio tower)

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

Pairing: Han jisung x Female reader

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: angst

Warning: talks of depression and loss

Since the moment she walked out of my life, sleep has eluded me completely. Each night stretches into an endless cycle of tossing and turning, as my restless mind races with memories and imagined scenarios. Every thought seems to spiral back to her, replaying moments we shared and the laughter we once exchanged. It feels as if my brain has become a revolving door for her presence, and no matter how hard I try to focus on anything else, her image refuses to fade from my consciousness.

*knock knock*

“Han?” Minho's soft voice echoes through the door.

“Dude?…..are you awake?” he asks

Though I find myself awake in the physical sense, I can’t help but question whether I am truly present in the moment. The answer to that introspective inquiry is clear: not even remotely. I feel a profound sense of numbness enveloping me, as if I’m merely a spectator in my own life, detached from my surroundings and experiences.

“Han…please….im worried about you, its been days”

There it is, a reminder of my loss, my love, my everything. She’s gone, and the weight of that reality crushes me. I can still hear her laughter, feel the warmth of her presence, but it’s all gone. I pushed her away. Looking back, I realize how my insecurities and fears built an invisible wall between us. I wasn’t strong enough to hold on, and now, with each day that passes, I grapple with the haunting knowledge that I could have fought harder to keep her by my side.

“Get up…. Grab your shit we are going out” Minho says throwing my jacket at me.

“Do I really have to?” I ask, my voice laced with irritation, the frustration evident in my furrowed brow.

“Yes,” Minho snaps back, his tone sharp as a knife. He pauses for a moment, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips before adding, “Oh, and Han?”

“What!” I retort, my annoyance escalating.

“Shower, will you?” he says, his expression turning serious. “You smell absolutely disgusting.”

……

“Seriously, dude… you need to snap out of this,” Minho said, his voice edged with frustration as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, the leather creaking under his palms. The radio played softly in the background, but it felt distant and insignificant compared to the knot of emotions churning in my stomach. “She dumped you; it isn’t the end of the world.”

I stared out the window, watching the blurred landscape fly by, feeling every single word he said ripple through me like waves crashing against a rocky shore. How could he understand? He had never experienced the kind of love that tore your heart out and laid it bare, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. It felt as if she'd taken every cherished moment we've shared and smashed it in front of me, and there was no way to pick up the pieces. The pain was raw and fresh, and no amount of pep talk from someone who had never truly loved would change that.

I’m feeling completely drained; I didn’t even take a moment to brush my hair this morning. Honestly, I can only imagine the wild state it’s in right now—probably a chaotic mix of tangles and frizz.

“Where are we going anyway?” I finally say.

"Out… you really need to step outside those four walls, man. I can't stand watching you like this anymore. It feels as if someone has just kicked a poor, helpless puppy," he said with a mix of concern and frustration. As he turned and headed toward the exit, I caught a glimpse of my favorite coffee shop in the distance. It stood there like a cozy oasis, a charming little family-owned place nestled away from the bustling streets of Seoul. The warm glow of its inviting lights and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee reminded me of simpler times, moments of comfort I desperately craved right now.

“We are here” he smiled as he pulled into the parking lot.

Getting out of the car felt like an uphill battle, each movement requiring a renewed effort that left me breathless. Lately, everything seemed to bear the weight of that same struggle, as if I were trudging through thick mud. The absence of her presence loomed heavily over me; nothing felt familiar or comforting anymore. Even my favorite spot, once a sanctuary filled with laughter and shared moments, felt desolate and empty without her bright smile and warm company. I longed for the days when simple outings were filled with joy, but now they were simply reminders of what was missing.

As we stepped through the door, a warm smile from the owner welcomed us. The atmosphere inside was surprisingly quieter then normal. I glanced around and noticed that aside from us, there was only a single woman seated at a table, her back turned to the register as she focused intently on her phone. The subtle hum of soft music played in the background, adding to the inviting ambiance of the place.

“Just your usual?” the owner asks with a friendly smile as he moves toward the register, the familiar sound of the coffee grinder humming softly in the background.

“Yes, please,” I respond, feeling a warm sense of comfort in this cozy café. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries fills the air, stirring memories of many mornings spent here. As he prepares my order, I glance around, taking in the soft lighting and eclectic decor that makes this place feel like a second home. the first time in what feels like forever I smile.

“Lets go take a seat” Mingo says leading me towards the stranger in the corner of the cafe.

“Dude, what are you doing?” I ask, my voice laced with hesitation as I reach out to grasp his arm, attempting to gently pull him back from the edge of the situation.

“It’s about time you stopped indulging in this melodramatic nonsense you’ve been milking,” he said, his voice steady and firm as he closed the distance between them with purposeful strides.

“Are you really trying to set me up on a date? Minho, I can’t believe this! I’m not even four days into my breakup,” I whispered fiercely, glancing around to ensure the stranger nearby couldn’t overhear our conversation. My heart raced with a mix of disbelief and frustration, the weight of my recent heartbreak still heavy on my chest.

Just like that, as if the stranger had a sixth sense about my thoughts, she suddenly turns around and our eyes lock in an instant. There she is—my love, my everything. Her hair cascades down her shoulders in soft waves, catching the sunlight and shimmering like spun gold. She’s wearing those adorable overalls that fit her perfectly, with tiny patches adorning the pockets that give her an effortlessly cute vibe. My heart begins to race, pounding in my chest like a drum, and I can feel the warmth of a blush creeping onto my cheeks. Everything around us fades away, and in that moment, it feels like just the two of us exist, suspended in time.

“Before you decide to punish me, just take a moment to talk to her,” Minho urges, his voice filled with urgency. Yet, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from her, captivated by the way she stands there, a mixture of vulnerability and strength in her demeanor.

“What do I even say” I answer back.

“The truth… oh, and don’t forget your apology,” he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. With a friendly pat on my shoulder, he turned away and made his way across the room to engage in conversation with the owner.

As I approach her, the golden sunlight bathes her face, casting a warm glow that highlights her features in the most enchanting way. She resembles an ethereal angel, so captivating that I can't restrain my admiration. “You look absolutely beautiful,” I find myself saying, the words spilling out with an earnestness I can't contain.

“Thank you,” she says with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling as she gracefully settles back into her chair. With a welcoming gesture, she motions towards the vacant chair opposite her, inviting me to join her in the conversation.

Before she has the chance to utter a single word, I take a deep breath and start to explain. “I’m really sorry, y/n. I know I was a jerk….what I did—”

“Was disgusting…disrespectful, and utterly wrong,” she interjects, her voice sharp with hurt. Her eyes blaze with emotions, making it clear just how deeply my actions had affected her.

"You’re right," I murmur, my gaze falling to the ground, unable to meet her eyes.

"I came here to tell you that... to tell you that every decision you made that day... it made me physically ill," she continues, her voice trembling with emotion. A wave of guilt crashes over me as I realize the weight of my choices, the hurt I've caused. How could I have done this to her? The thought spirals in my mind, gnawing at the edges of my conscience.

“I can’t believe you would ever think that you couldn’t come to me for help,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and hurt. “Did I mean so little to you, Jisung? Is that how you truly see our relationship?”

“No, not at all,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t want you to—”

“What! Find out?” she shot back, her eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and anger. In an instant, she stood up from the table, the chair scraping sharply against the floor, and stormed out, leaving a heavy silence in her wake.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered under my breath, my heart racing as I glanced toward Minho, who wore a look of concern. Panic surged through me as I pushed away from the table, my footsteps echoing against the cold tiles as I hurried outside, desperate to stop her before she disappeared completely.

“Y/N, wait!” I call out, my voice echoing as I rush after her, my footsteps quickening against the pavement. I can see her reaching the car, her movements hurried, and I feel a sense of urgency gripping me.

“What is it that you want?” she screams, her voice echoing with a mix of frustration and desperation, her eyes wide with a blend of anger and fear.

“You!” I pant “Your face is etched into my brain. No matter how hard I try to remove it or forget, there you are, just…” I tap my temples vigorously with my index finger. “I’m stuck, bound by memories of you—your touch, your voice. It’s enough to drive me mad!” My eyes widen, reflecting my intense emotions. “I sit here wondering if it’s just me going through all this pain, or if you feel the same way.” my body shaking “everything reminds me of you y/n, everything”

“You don't get to say that Han, I gave you the world and you broke me”

In that moment, the weight of the world crashed down upon me—this was the final blow. You broke me . I lowered my gaze, embarrassment washing over me like a dark tide. “I know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, a fragile acknowledgment of the pain that had unfolded between us.

“How dare you,” she breathed, her voice a venomous whisper as fury danced in her eyes. I felt the weight of her accusation settle heavily on my chest, and all I could think was that I deserved this searing tongue-lashing. “You don't get to hurt… not after what you did. How could you?”

Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, glistening like fragile glass as they fell. Each sob seemed to echo in the space between us, a haunting reminder of the pain I caused. My heart twisted painfully as I took a step closer, instinctively wrapping my arms around her in an attempt to offer comfort, just like I used to before the callousness took over me and I lost my way.

“Shhhh,” I whisper softly, cradling her in my arms. I place gentle, warm kisses on the crown of her head, trying to ease her worries and calm her racing heart. The soft rhythm of my voice mingles with the quiet of the room, wrapping around us like a comforting blanket.

“How could you ji?” she keeps sobbing.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I repeat the words like a mantra. Each time I say it, I yearn to convey the depth of my longing for her, the aching void she has left in my life. I miss her more than I can express—every moment apart feels like an eternity. I crave the warmth of her touch, the way her fingers would glide over my skin, igniting sensations I can't forget. I long for the sweet taste of her lips, the intoxicating blend of intimacy and desire that left me breathless. Each thought of her pulls at my heart, reminding me of the connection we once shared.

"I will spend every moment of our lives trying to make it up to you… I promise," I say, my voice filled with conviction. Gently, I nudge her back a bit to create a bit of space between us, then I lift my thumb to tenderly brush away the tears that glisten on her cheeks.

“I loved you,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her body shuddered in the struggle to contain the tears that threatened to spill over.

“Please, I beg you… no more secrets, no more lies… just grant me this one chance to make things right. I know you may have loved me once, but my feelings for you have never faltered, not even for a moment. I was foolish, thinking I could navigate this alone without reaching out for your support. I see now how wrong I was. I’m pleading with you—find it in your heart to forgive me, just this once more”

Her eyes lock onto mine, a magnetic pull that sends a jolt through me. I gently trace my thumb across her bottom lip, my mind racing with the desire to press my lips against hers at that very moment.

I can see a flicker of longing in her gaze as it darts between my eyes and my lips. The air between us crackles with the tension of unspoken wishes. Leaning in closer, I lower my lips, hovering just inches from hers, and whisper softly, “Your turn to make the first move.”

With that invitation hanging in the air, she closes the distance between us. Our lips collide, a perfect union that feels as though they’ve been yearning to meet for ages, igniting a warmth that spreads throughout my entire being.

I gently pull away, my voice barely above a whisper as I say, “my love.”

With a tender smile, she gazes into my eyes and replies, “my everything.”

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