#that sounds like a bad idea to him. there's no way he's going to be any good at this
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So there is that headcanon where Captian Marvel looks a lot like teth Aman (Black Adams kid) and him mistaking cap as his kid and trying to reconnect in a way making people think that Black Adam is Captain Marvels dad
*throws this idea at you and runs away*
*idea smacks me in the head*
Teth was furious. For good reason too. The Wizard literally sealed him away for nearly five thousand years. Then, the old man replaced him with some, from what he’d heard, bumbling idiot. So yes, he was furious, and he also wanted his job back. Something he could only get if the current champion was put down. Which he was on his way to this place called Fawcett to do.
When he got there, he could practically feel the magic emanating from the city. Were there magic ley lines here? Then it’s a no wonder the Champion chose to set up base here rather than one of the major cities. As of now, Adam was above the city surveying the terrain. Meanwhile, Billy in Marvel form is sitting on a roof, wondering who that weirdo hovering above the city.
Solomon: “Oh… Billy you have to kill that man.”
Marvel: “WHAT?” *gobsmacked and concerned because other than a couple times, Solomon has never been one to hop on the ‘kill that villain’ train*
Achilles: “Yeah, we’re sorry, but like, no joke, you actually gotta kill him.”
Marvel: “The other times were jokes?”
Mercury: “Kinda, but you absolutely have to kill this guy or he will kill you.”
Marvel: “Oh. Uhm… okay?” *sounds extremely nervous as he stands up* “So what do? Do I just…?”
Hercules: “Yeah, just like charge him, and beat him. To death.”
And that’s how Adam literally blinked and the next thing he knew, he was hurtling through the air and to the ground, far from the so called Fawcett. Damn it. The current Champion had found him first. When Adam crawled out of his crater, he was met with a face he didn’t think he’d ever see again. Aman.
Had that blasted Wizard brought his son back from the grave? Adam didn’t know whether he should be grateful, or enraged. On one hand, the Wizard brought his boy back. His boy whose life had ended too early. On the other hand, his boy had been thrust back into a life of danger as the Champion. Gods, how long had Aman been the current Champion? How long had the Wizard waited until he decided that doing this was acceptable?
As for Billy, he just stared down at the guy wearing black in confusion. Why did the Gods want him to kill this guy so bad? He isn’t attacking anyone. He’s kinda just there, staring up at up at Billy with the same confused expression Billy has. He also has the same lightning bolt? Billy had thought that was only reserved for people connected to the rock. The Wizard had never mentioned this guy before if that’s the case.
Black Adam: *mistakes Billy’s confusion as recognized* “…Aman?”
Marvel: *heard “a man” and just thought Adam just had some type of accent* “Yes…?” *now extremely confused*
Black Adam: “I can’t believe it.” *flies over to him and tries to reach out to him*
Marvel: *moves out of his reach because he does not know this rando*
Black Adam: *sounds slightly annoyed* “What did the Wizard tell you?”
Marvel: “Nothing? I just don’t know you.”
Black Adam: *looks absolutely disturbed* “He erased your memory?”
Marvel: *just about to answer when some monster starts attacking Fawcett* “Look, I gotta go. We’ll talk later.” *flies off to the monster*
Zeus: “How interesting.” *probably stroking his beard* “He didn’t immediately kill you.”
Solomon: “Be on watch Billy. He could still attack.”
Now, Adam obviously didn’t do that. He immediately went to Kahndaq, made himself pharaoh again and remodeled the palace as best as he could in such a short time. It wasn’t until about a week later that Adam came back to see his boy again.
Marvel: *finishes helping an old lady cross the road*
Black Adam: *lands beside him and clears his throat*
Marvel: “Oh, it’s you again!” *smiles*
Black Adam: “Yes. It is I.”
*silence*
Marvel: *desperate to fill the awkward silence* “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I caught your name the last time we met.”
Black Adam: “I am Teth Adam.” *is super hurt that his boy doesn’t remember him and is plotting on the Wizard*
Marvel: “Cool. I’m Captain Marvel. I’m fine with Cap, or Marvel, or whatever you can come up with.”
Black Adam: “So that’s what he has you going by…”
Marvel: “What?”
*another silence*
Black Adam: *clear throat again* “When… are you coming home?””
Marvel: “Home?”
Black Adam: “Home. Kahndaq. If you’re worried about becoming a slave again, after your…” *clears throat* “The point is, I worked to get rid of it.”
Billy honest to the Gods just assumed this guy was both lonely and another Champion.
Marvel: *confused at the mention of slavery* “Sure, I’ll come by. That’s in like Africa, right?”
Black Adam: *a little relieved that he’d visit, but also filled with a little dread because Marvel not knowing where Kahndaq is kind of supports the memory wipe theory* “I believe so.”
Marvel did visit. And sure, he might’ve had to work himself up for the awkward afternoon, but it wasn’t that bad. Teth seemed a little happier after the whole thing. Billy’s pretty sure at least. It’s a little hard to get a read the guy’s emotions.
Also, someone caught the end of their conversation, more specifically the coming home bit. Thus, the rumors of this new guy in black being Marvel’s father were born. These rumors were fueled by Adam trying to be fatherly, albeit awkwardly, and Billy just accepting it because he just thinks Adam is being nice.
Like the time Adam brought him a modernized version Aman’s favorite food because he thought he might still like it.
Achilles: “WAIT BILLY IT MIGHT BE POISONED-”
Marvel: *takes a big munch* “Wow, this is really good!”
Black Adam: *relieved* “It’s good you still like it.”
Yeah, Fawcitizens are like ninety percent sure Adam is their hero’s dad. And they’re here for it. They just want their big guy to be happy.
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Okay- I adore the Mecha AU.. so now I have to share MY terrible idea, dunno if anyone has said this yet but- you remember that in pacific rim when Raleigh & Mako DRIFT and they both experience each other’s trauma?
What if that happened with Jazz & Prowl?
Like-
One day Prowl starts noticing a difference in Jazz's behavior, noticing how he would suddenly tense up or flinch whenever somebody suddenly started speaking loud or in the morning he’d notice how he was soaked in sweat and shakily making his way to the wash racks. Whenever he’d ask if he was alright he was always met with a smile and a reassuring remark, yet he knew something was off and he wanted to help.
So then (once he’s fully healed) he suggests to Jazz that they should do trust exercises under the guise that since he doesn’t have another Mecha so they should strengthen their own bond for any future battles. Jazz is hesitant, especially since he blames himself for Prowl being in that situation in the first place, but he also wants to spend time with Prowl so he agrees.
Prowl probably would go to a secluded spot in the forest they’re in, somewhere safe where, once Jazz is relaxed enough he can ask him about these strange behaviors he’s recently been exhibiting. Surely nothing bad will happen and surely Jazz will be fine like he usually is…
The training exercises go well, Jazz is feeling fine and they’re both in the zone when suddenly a bad memory spontaneously starts to haunt Jazz and it triggers a PTSD-esque Episode where Jazz freezes up and is suddenly taken back to that horrible time..
The time he was strapped down to a bedbunk, his body writhing in agonizing pain, the constant sting of needles piercing his skin followed by an intense burning sensation that can only be likened to being burned from the inside out, his vision going blurry and his throat raw and bleeding from screaming and crying, his body shaking and shivering as a thick sheen of sweat coats his body.
And right now… because of the DRIFT.. Prowl sees it too, he not only sees it but he’s there, standing over Jazz's restrained body, he hears screams and sounds he never EVER wanted to hear, not from Jazz of all people. His precious partner, he’s looking down at him unable to help or protect him from these strangers, these monsters who are ignoring the ear piercing, spark-wrenching screams of pure agony. Worst of all? He can’t move, he’s frozen in place, forced to stand there helplessly as Jazz is begging for mercy, begging for someone to help him… and. he. can’t. move.
It lasts just for a moment but for both of them it felt like an hour until Jazz screams himself back into reality, freeing both him and Prowl from his nightmare. Prowl drops to a knee, his mind racing as he tries to figure out what the actual hekk he just saw until he feels Jazz pounding his fist against his chest, he can vaguely make out his choked up plea which scares Prowl as he’s never heard Jazz make that noise before. Prowl opens it and barely manages to catch Jazz as the man tumbled out into his own shaky servo in a trembling heap.
Jazz is slightly pale and tears are in his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath, he knows he’s not there anymore but he still feels it.
Prowl rushes back to Ratchets hideout where he the others are and calls for him, fear gripping his tanks as Jazz is still huddled in a fetal position, hyperventilating as he grips his soaked hair. Ratchet immediately recognizes what’s happened and quickly moves to help Jazz calm down before he has a heart attack which he is very close to having with how high his pulse is. It works but the man is so worn out from the stress that he just passes out.
I don’t know but that’s been plaguing my mind since I started reading your AU and I just HAD to share it lol, what do you think? How do you think Prowl would actually react to that? I figured he’d freak out as humans and their fragile bodies are still new territory for him.
Also sorry if it’s all a bit unclear or confusing or like- boarderline rambling I’m not good at storytelling and just stick to RP and making RP plots lol.
OH MAN. OH FUCK. YEP UH HUH YEAH. THIS. oh my god
Knowing Prowl, he would probably rush to learn every bit of information he can access about. You know. How to help someone in that scenario. Because he’s scared that something would went wrong while he has zero knowledge about humans.
But also. I think it would make him realise just how strong despite his small size Jazz actually is.
Jazz might drop something about his brain being over dramatic when it’s not helpful at all. While Prowl is just are you fraggin serious you’re a superhuman
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Alastor Hands You the Aux Cord - Alastor x f!reader
Anon asked for: Hello! Love ur work :) Alastor x f!reader fluff & heavy smut inspired by the song “soaked” by shy smith???
Honey, you got a lot more than you bargained for, and even then I¨m not quite sure that I did it correctly. Alas! I hope you enjoy it either way. So sorry this took so long, it was an undertaking.
Summary: I suck at these so just be patient and kind. Reader was a radio/sound engineer in life and begins to work with Alastor rather closely.
Dividers by @konatasoup
Warnings: Listen, we all know Alastor is a Bad Man(tm). In this story and many, many others, Fucked Up Alastor is going to say Fucked Up Things. Alastor is a sentient red flag. I would like to kindly remind you that you need to carefully decide whether or not that's too much for you before you begin to read. I'd hate it if you read and got triggered by some possessive or otherwise red flag dialogue/prose! If it’s not for you you can simply block me and avoid my other fanfiction. You're responsible for your own reading experience! If smut is not for you, this is not for you. Other warnings include briskets, sandwiches, p in v intercourse, I don't know, standard fare, Alastor is a deeply jealous and possessive man, colleagues to lovers, Alastor’s fluffy, fluffy ears are an erogenous zone I don’t care lalalalala
Words: 9521
Tell me if you want to be added to the tag list! Requests are open and the guidelines are in my pinned post! I
It would be VERY helpful for your reading experience if you listen to the provided music! If the response is good there will be a part two :)
SMUT
Masterlist
It was the sensible thing to do, and took surprisingly little effort to get him to agree. All you said was that radio lived on in your lifespan, nearly one hundred years after his death. You asked if, in life, he would have happily adjusted to innovations in radio technology, and you remember the way he looked down at his claws, all tightened into fists that slowly unfurled. He begrudgingly admitted that he would have.
“That type of microphone you’ve got there wasn’t invented until after you died,” you pointed out.
Radio had been your life’s passion in the living world just as it had been for Alastor. You began in university as a DJ, then changed your major to reflect your newfound love. You started off with communications engineering in undergraduate studies and moved on to wireless communications engineering. Twelve years of your life, you had dedicated to radio.
You were the perfect candidate, and best of all you could make yourself obsolete by teaching him what he needed to know, so it was a win all-around. Kinda. It remains to be seen what he would do with you once you became obsolete.
You did, however, strike up a friendship. Alastor would admit readily that you were a good sound engineer and constantly upgraded his equipment. He would also admit, not quite as readily, that speaking to you was pleasant. You never batted an eye while he ripped apart souls, which he found surprising at first, but when you pulled out a sandwich to eat whilst he did so it elevated to…cute. He typically hates things that are cute.
Okay, fine, you’re cute.
As time passed, you grew more comfortable with each other. Sometimes you even offer him pre-soul breaking sandwiches, and Alastor eats them simply because they were offered by you. He has no idea what a “PB&J” is, only that whoever created it must surely be living amongst you all in hell. He always eats them, though. Every last morsel.
Then something quite remarkable happened. Alastor sat you down after an unusually long broadcast, took the pistachios that you offered him, and gave you the best gift you had ever received.
“Only one,” he said, poking your chest several times. “One song of your choosing at the end of my broadcast. Do you understand?”
You remember nodding so hard it almost hurt.
You had tried not to seem too enthused, so as not to betray your true excitement to your finicky friend, but shouted joyfully into a pillow when you got to your hotel room. You rolled all over your bed, still screaming into the pillow, and spent the rest of the night curating various playlists for the post-show tunes.
The two of you became inseparable. When you weren’t on air, you were still working together on scripts, advertising campaigns, marketing strategies, even merchandising, a pencil stuck through your hair, sandwich wrappers discarded haphazardly.
‘I got my soul ripped apart by the Radio Demon and all I got was this fucking shirt’.
You’re more excited about this than him by far, but it was becoming harder and harder to deny you a thing. He’s always criticised Vox’s use of petty merchandise to belittle him, but this was different. Entirely.
It had been a rather destructive day in the radio tower the first time you played a song. There were three soul rendings today, so everything but you was covered in blood and viscera. Alastor, with a small smile, offered you his staff, and explained all you had to do was play a song on your phone while holding it.
It felt special. It almost made your cheeks warm, but that crisis was thankfully averted and you chose a tribute to radio itself as your first ever post-show track.
‘Radio, someone still loves you.’
Alastor didn’t look particularly happy with what he’d heard, but he did give you an amused little pat on the head before taking his staff and leaving the radio tower, still covered in blood.
You remember all of that fondly and take a bite of your sandwich. Alastor takes one bite of his and goes feral.
“Calm down over there,” you chastise. “It’s just pastrami.”
He swallows. “You know my feelings about brisket, darling.”
“Well, I’ll bring you more pastrami in the future, then. Maybe I’ll even make you a brisket someday.”
“Yes, you should,” he almost snaps. “And I’ll have no more ‘peanut butter’, by the way.”
“Do you like the almond butter better?” you ask, offering him another sandwich from the basket you brought with you
“…I prefer the pistachio and cashew one.”
“Okay, I’ll find more of that,” you say before passing him a napkin. You sigh and grab the clipboard set to the wayside. “No souls today.”
“Yes, I am aware,” he says.
“Isn’t that less fun for you?”
Alastor ponders over his answer for a moment. “It is more fun to murder. However, not having one or more to murder also means that no one has challenged or crossed me. That is better in the long run.”
“I can see that logic.” You nod, then go back to the clipboard. “Oh, I can’t be here on Saturday.”
His expression sours and his eyes narrow. “And why is that, darling?”
You smile at him, arms up. “I’m going to Lu Lu World!”
“What in the world is that, darling? Wait a moment.” His eyes narrow anymore. “It has nothing to do with that circus freak does it?”
You purse your lips and tilt your head, staring at him. “You’ve lost me.”
“The hell I have. I find it absolutely unacceptable that you would leave work behind in order to prance around in an amusement park.”
“I don’t plan on prancing, so we’re good,” you say. You wrinkle your nose and chuckle a little at his steadily souring expression. “Tell you what. I’ll make you that brisket.”
“Two briskets,” he’s quick to demand. “No, three. Three briskets, and I’m not sharing with the others like you made me do on Beignet Day.”
“That was never meant to be just for your enjoyment!”
“Well, it should have been!” he snaps.
You laugh again and fold your hands over the clipboard. “I will miss work on Saturday to be escorted around Lu Lu World by its namesake and you will receive three briskets at a time of your choosing. You’re in for a treat, I make the best brisket. My husband loved it.”
A pregnant silence fills the radio tower.
“I find it equally unacceptable for you to have a husband. No, no more of that,” he says finally.
“I’d like to think I’ll find love again someday!” you say, laughing.
He huffs. “Is it a date?”
“Is what a date?”
Alastor rolls his eyes. “Your petty little outing to the amusement park with the circus freak!”
“He’s the King of Hell, not a circus freak!” you exclaim.
“If he doesn’t want to be called a circus freak he should dress like an adult male,” he says.
At that, you sit up straight, arms folded, and stare at him. “Do you really want to go there? Making fun of how he dresses?”
“My manner of dress is unimpeachable! Everything is just so!” Alastor gestures at his suit, then narrows his eyes again. “You will not marry him.”
“Marriage isn’t on the table, I’m just visiting his park with him. It’s closed for the day, no one but us! Oh, but also you can’t tell me who I can and can’t marry,” you say.
“There will be no marriages at all! We have work to do, important work!” He closes his eyes, touches his forehead, and growls. “Do not sass me.”
You take another bite out of your sandwich. “So I won’t be here Saturday.”
“…Fine. I can go back to the Stone Age for one damn day.”
You groan. “I’m glad no one else knows of your flair for the dramatic.”
“And you’d do well to keep it that way,” he says. He holds up three fingers. “Three briskets. I want them all at once.”
“I don’t have the time to do them today, as you said, we have important-ish work to do,” you say.
He eyes you again. “Three. Briskets.”
You throw your hands up. “Fine! I hope you get a tummy ache!”
“I will not! I will enjoy the briskets and be fine!” Alastor adjusts his butterfly tie and stands up from his chair. “And you will make up for lost time from your Saturday outing.”
“No I won’t,” you say. “I’m under no such obligation to work every single day with no breaks. I just haven’t had anything better to do in a while.”
Alastor’s hand smacks against a panel. “No! You’re to work with me every day, that is the arrangement! Good god, woman, you are so insolent today. All of hell listens to these broadcasts. I do not know how to do what you do. You have made yourself necessary and now you want to cut and run so you can have intercourse with that circus freak in a hall of mirrors.”
You tilt your head back and laugh.
He looks unamused by this. “What? What is it? Why are you laughing?”
“I suppose I’d better fuck him in the hall of mirrors, then, if you think the opportunity presents itself.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and put everything else in the garbage for Niffty to collect.
Alastor’s ears flatten. “I do not like you today.”
“Nah, you adore me.” You look closer at the agenda for today and begin warming up the necessary equipment. You pull on your headphones “Thirty seconds, Al.”
He nods and repeats it back to you. “Thirty seconds, Al.”
By the end of the show, you’ve already got your topical track selection queued up. Alastor stands up and stretches before giving the staff to you and rifling around for more sandwiches in the basket.
‘They come running just as fast as they can ‘cause every girl crazy bout a sharp-dressed man’
You lip sync along, not realising you’re being watched. Alastor smiles to himself and waits for his staff to be given back to him. When it is, he almost remarks about your Saturday outing. Almost.
In your bedroom, you stretch and yawn. It’s late and you need to be with Alastor relatively early, so you go about your nightly routine. Brushed teeth, silky pyjamas, all lotioned up, feeling amazing. That is, until you walk back to the area with the bed. You scream and jump, but your surprise is quickly replaced by anger. Alastor laughs from his comfy position against your pillows.
He points at you. “You are the chicken in this relationship.”
You get in beside him and try to shove him out of the bed, chuckling as he easily resisted. “What are you doing in here?”
He’s still laughing. “I came to collect you! Emergency broadcast.”
You groan loudly. “Absolutely fucking not!”
“Yes!” He wraps an arm around you and drags you up from the bed. “It won’t take too long.”
“Who the hell pissed you off this much that you have to do this right now, at two in the morning?” you asked.
The answer makes your stomach drop.
“Husker!” he says excitedly.
You flail. “No. No! No, Alastor, you can’t do that!”
“I assure you that I can,” he says, now picking you up and carrying you towards the radio tower. “Husker’s soul is mine to do what I want with it, and he knew that before he started making trouble tonight.”
“Alastor!” you shout. “Put me down!”
He looks confused, but carefully sets you down. There are tears on your face that confound him. “What is the matter, my dear?”
“You can’t kill Husk.” You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “You can’t. I know you can in the literal sense of the word. I know that you can, but you can’t, please, I am begging you not to do this. Please, Alastor.”
“Do not mourn for him,” Alastor says. “No one mourned him in life.”
“I think that’s not true,” you say, but take his hands, squeezing them. “Just, just tell me what he did. I’ll fix it. I swear, I’ll fix it.”
Alastor looks down at your hands, so much smaller than his, trying to calm him down. “You really care, hm?”
“Alastor, please, please,” you whisper, squeezing his hands again. “Alastor, don’t do it. I have never asked you for a thing and I never will again if you just please don’t do this. Please don’t kill him, he’s my friend. He’s a soul in the bank for you, but he’s my friend.”
He’s quiet for a very long time, watching your breakdown. You know how it looks. He hates weakness, he hates vulnerability—
Alastor puts his hand on the side of your face and pushes hair away. “Okay, darling. If you want Husker to keep dusting bottles and consuming their entire contents, then that you shall have.”
You feel embarrassed all of a sudden and wipe your eyes. “How about I make you a brisket instead?”
“No brisket is required,” he says. “If you want it then you will have it. I am a man of my word. I will find other means to discipline Husker.”
“Don’t hurt Angel,” you say immediately. “Please. They’re all afraid of you already, you don’t have to do anything to keep them in line. I don’t know what Husk did, but I don’t believe it warrants his death and it definitely doesn’t mean you can do something bad to the only thing he loves more than booze or gambling.”
“Okay,” Alastor agrees.
You blink. “I know it’s not that simple. What do you want?”
“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?” he asks.
“Me? Personally?” You think for a moment before shaking your head. “No. But—“
“I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me,” Alastor says. “I have worked with you closely for months now. I do what I say I will do. If you want that damned cat and his spider to live and be unharmed then I will give you that.”
“What do you want in exchange? Don’t say my soul, I’m not giving it.”
“No, not your soul,” he says. “A simple deal.”
You stand up straighter. “A deal? What?”
“I let Husker and the spider go unharmed and you will in exchange never have intercourse with the circus freak.”
Your arms cross. “Alastor, that’s fucked up.”
“I know!” he says warmly.
After a moment, you reach your hand out towards him. He takes it in his and squeezes it, gentle and warm. You’ve seen his power, the green flashes of light.
But there are no green lights. His tentacles remain hidden. The floor doesn’t shake.
It wasn’t a real deal, but you said nothing about that. This was all very strange, and you didn’t know what to make of it. Taking his hand, you give it a pull.
“Come on,” you say. “Let’s go on air anyway. Come.”
He tuts at you. “Rather bossy tonight, my dear.”
“I’ll make sandwiches,” you offer, and he nods.
“Yes, you will make sandwiches—pastrami.”
‘I am just living to be lying by your side but I'm just about a moonlight mile on down the road’
Once Alastor takes the staff from you, he notices that you’ve fallen asleep in your chair. He rides the dark with you in his arms, depositing you safely into your bed.
The next night, for some reason, Husk makes sure your dirty martinis come with two olives and no complaints.
“You will go away from the hotel.”
You look up from your phone, your feet up on one of the panels you’ve been working on. “Excuse me?”
Alastor is stern, serious. His eyes betray no laughter, not a single joke. “You will leave the hotel.”
“No,” you say immediately.
“The Extermination is exactly one week from now, and you will leave the hotel. You will go someplace safe.”
“No,” you say again. “No, hell no, I’m not leaving you all by yourselves.”
“You would be more of a hindrance than help,” Alastor says, and ooph, that one hurt.
“You don’t even know how to defend yourself,” he continues.
“I’ve been doing my best,” you say.
“And that is not good enough, darling.”
Your chest falls and rises. “So you think I have nothing to offer to protect my friends and this hotel?”
Alastor pauses for a moment. “No. I know for a fact that you do.”
“Then what?” you ask. “Why do you want me to leave?”
Again, a few moments pass in silence before Alastor sits beside you. “You would trade something very precious to save this hotel and all of the fools who reside in it.”
”What? What is it? What am I going to give up that’s so special?”
“Your life,” he says. “If you are here, you will sacrifice your life in a trice just as soon as you see someone else is in danger. And I cannot have that. You will leave, this is not a request.”
Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No. This is my home. This is where I work. This is my family—“
“You will listen to me now and you will listen good,” he says gravely. “I can protect this hotel and kill Adam or I can protect you. Those are the choices. I trust you will not make the selfish one.”
You close your eyes and let out a deep breath. You feel a cry coming on, but head it off at the pass. “What about you?”
“What about me, darling?” Alastor asks. “There is no way for you to help me. You know that.”
“I’m going to look like a coward,” you say.
“I do not care,” he says. “And you shouldn’t either. My priorities are to kill Adam and to protect you. Therefore, you will leave to someplace safe and you will wait for me to come for you.”
You scoff. “Where’s safe? Where’s safe during an Extermination?”
“They are coming to the hotel first and we will not allow them to go any further. You will be safe where I send you and you will stay there.”
Then he does something he’s never done before. Alastor pulls you into his embrace. “You have no idea what I would do to save you. No idea, you stupid, silly girl. You must go. You must.”
“Okay, okay,” you say finally.
“I could give or take almost anyone else in this boring little hovel of a hotel, but I can’t give you. I won’t. It’s very likely this radio tower will need some manner of repair. Who else would do it but you?” He holds you a little tighter.
You close your eyes and lean against him. “I really don’t want to leave you.”
“Because you are an idiot.”
At that, you start hitting him anywhere you can, but the two of you dissolve into laughter.
Eventually, you sigh. “When am I leaving?”
Alastor hums. “Tonight.”
“What?” you look at him again. “Why tonight?”
“I will have time to prepare. I won’t spend days worrying about getting you to leave. It is better that I have this time to focus,” he says. “I will take care of everything. Think of it as more of a vacation than anything else.”
“I won’t, but thank you,” you say. “What will you tell everyone?”
Alastor tilts his head. “About what?”
“About forcing me to leave the hotel because I’m apparently too weak and stupid to fight for it,” you say.
He tsks and shakes his head. “I do not care. Neither should you. But I suppose I will just tell them approximately one-quarter of the truth.”
“Which is what?” you ask.
“That I put my foot down and wouldn’t allow you to die for any of them.” Alastor rubs his face against yours. A confusing gesture, but not altogether out of place, given the tenor of the rest of the interaction.
“I don’t want to die, but—“
“But nothing,” he says. He gives you his staff. “Play one last song.”
You wince. “Okay, grim. No. I’m not playing a ‘last song’.”
He huffs. “The last song until next week, when all of this is over.”
“When all of this is over…” You lean back in your seat, tapping the staff as you think. “Can you…can we hop on the broadcast? For a while? Make it my last proper show until all of this is over?”
You swallow, your throat feeling tight.
“No, darling,” he says. “Not this time. Pick a good song.”
‘Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!’
Alastor stares at you strangely throughout the entire song. He never once tries to take the staff away from you, not even during the repeated profanity—something that was forbidden. He says nothing of it when the song is done and he takes his staff back into his possession.
“Come.” He holds his arm out for you and you take it. You let him lead you out of the radio tower and you become unsettled as you descend the steps.
“Alastor, I don’t like this,” you say nervously.
“And neither do I,” he says as he guides you to your hotel room.
“Where are you sending me?”
He suddenly stops you once you’re inside the room, his clawed hand coming down to grip your shoulder. Hard.
“Alastor,” you chastise.
His grip only tightens. “I made a bargain for this and you will not piss it away.”
The night crashes down on you in the quiet of your bedroom.
“But where? You made a deal?”
“No, not a deal. More of a…trade which does not benefit me at all, save for it keeping you safe.”
“Alastor, where?” you ask, softly yet firmly.
“In an underground bunker beneath Rosie’s Emporium,” Alastor says finally. “No one would ever think to look there, not with all of Cannibal Town at the hotel, stupidly giving their own lives. Those lives mean nothing to me, nothing at all, but yours is something precious.”
“I’m just your engineer, you know.”
Alastor huffs. “No, you’re not.”
You lift a brow. “I’m not?”
“No.” He pauses. “You also make sandwiches.”
With a little laugh, you nod. “Pastrami.”
“Indeed. Pastrami. Now, pack up, darling. I’ll escort you to Cannibal Town. No, no one will try to eat you. You’ll be with my dearest friend, Rosie. You will be safe with her. If I had any doubts I would send you elsewhere.”
“Okay,” you say softly. “It’s going to be boring without you.”
“I, on the other hand, will finally know peace after six months.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up.”
“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me.”
You laugh far too hard for it to be so late at night, but Alastor is smiling genuinely.
For a tenth of a second something changes. The way you look at each other…
“So,” he says, sitting at the foot of your bed, one ankle over his knee. “Have you been abiding by our agreement?”
You pull a suitcase from underneath the bed. “Which one? There are new ‘agreements’ every day.”
“Intercourse with Lucifer,” he says flatly.
“Oh Alastor, come on. What if he and I were in love?”
He just glares at you, darkness in his eyes.
“I haven’t seen the man in weeks!”
“Aha!” He points at you. “You would do it if given the chance, wouldn’t you?”
You tilt your head. “Why do you care so much, Al?”
“Because I want to separate him from all possible joy,” he says. “There’s no chance of doing that with Charlie, but I will deny him you.”
“You’re so fucking weird.”
“Shut up and pack.”
“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me.”
Alastor picks up one of your pillows and throws it at you.
The extended visit with Rosie would be nice if every moment didn’t bring you anxiety so crippling that it cramped your stomach. She was kind, a gracious hostess, and she didn’t ask any prying questions, so neither did you. You were curious about the ‘trade’ Alastor had made for you—for you…
You leave every day for food, because you just cannot trust the provenance of anything in Cannibal Town, no matter how kind Rosie is. You listen to Alastor’s sporadic broadcasts and feel vindicated in how shitty it is without you. Gives you a smile. It sustains you to know that this man still needs you.
On your third day of going out for burritos, you receive a text message that makes you grin, fills you with joy you haven’t felt since you were yeeted from the hotel.
‘New ducks, want to see?’
The second you text back yes, a glowing portal opens and a hand yanks you inside.
“Lucifer!” you cry out happily, hugging him close.
He returns the embrace readily, arms tight around you. “I’m so glad you agreed! Here, let me show you the duck workshop.”
You smile and let him guide you. You and Lucifer just..mesh. It’s always been easier to talk to him than virtually anyone else. For as much as you listen to him about ducks, he listens to you about radio, as long as you don’t mention Alastor. That’s always been an unspoken understanding.
Lucifer rambles happily all the way to the workshop and you happily listen. Once inside, he gives you a little tour. The place is quite literally filled with rubber ducks of all different kinds—there was even a set of KISS ducks.
“This is my latest work,” Lucifer says, showing you a row of little ducks. He picks up one. “This one has wings just like mine! Well, you can’t currently see my wings, but that’s what they look like. There’s six, they’re red, that’s…pretty much it…”
He sounds strangely nervous.
“And this one’s Charlie…”
Yes, nervous.
“Maggie,” he says.
“Actually, her name is Vaggie,” you correct him.
“Oh, golly!” He covers his eyes with his hands, his face turning red. “I’ve been calling her Maggie every time and Charlie never corrected me.”
You chuckle softly. “It’s fine, I’m sure it’s fine. Don’t worry about that.”
He peeks at you from between his fingers. “You really think it’s okay?”
“Charlie probably just felt too awkward to correct you. You know how she is.”
“I hope so,” Lucifer says. “This one is the porn star. He shoots webs!”
You laugh when he demonstrates. “That’s so cool!”
“And this one,” he picks up one of the ducks gingerly, “this one is you!”
You gasp at the attention to detail and laugh joyfully. “That’s so cute, a little me!”
“She has a little radio and everything. And—“ Lucifer presses a button on the underside of the duck and the radio starts to play from its mouth. He looks at you with a wide grin and elbows you gently a few times. “Ah? Ah?”
You laugh again and clap. “Bravo, you outdid yourself. I never thought you would outdo the back-flipping rubber ducky that spits fire.”
“I surprise myself all the time,” Lucifer says happily, placing your duck back down beside his. “Do you have time for a drink?”
You laugh. “Honey, I’ve got nothing but time.”
“Good!” He takes your hand and guides you out of the workshop and through the halls until you arrive at a lavish lounge. He gestures for you to take a seat. “What’ll you have?”
“Oh, whatever you’re having, please.”
Lucifer pours two whiskeys and sits in the chair across from yours beside a fire that emits a cool breeze.
“Thank you so much,” you say when he hands yours to you.
“It’s nothing,” he says. “Charlie told me…you left the hotel.”
You take a deep breath. “Yes, I did. I’ve been staying in Cannibal Town.”
“Why did you go?” he asks softly.
Now you sigh, hoping to keep all emotion from your voice. “Alastor thinks I’m more of a hindrance than a help and wants me to stay away.”
His diamond pupils constrict. “What an asshole.”
“He needs me to help repair the radio tower, when all is said and done.”
“You’re too good for this, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
Lucifer takes a drink. “I mean you’re too good to work on a show that’s just screams and crappy puns. That guy is a clown. You should host your own show.”
“Oh, I haven’t been on air in like…fourteen years. I don’t even know what I would talk about or play. I like being an engineer. It’s cathartic to me. Alastor might not have the most exciting show around, and he’s absolutely horrible, but it’s…hm, I’ve made it sound really bad, haven’t I?”
“Why do you give that guy your loyalty? Why do you feel so beholden to him?” he asks.
Your focus softens. “I…we have a good time together. I think. He likes the sandwiches that I make him.”
“I can almost guarantee that this loyalty means nothing to him,” Lucifer says. “I’m not saying that to hurt you.”
You sigh. “Yeah, I know Luci.”
“Why do you stay, then? Is he paying you?”
“Actually yeah, in a way he does.”
Lucifer cocks a brow and motions for you to continue.
“Oh, he just gives me things, not money. He doesn’t, uh, properly believe that hell should have a currency system. In his opinion it should all be bartering, like soul deals. Therefore, he barters with me. I give him sandwiches and briskets and engineering services, he gives me…just about anything. Last week he gave me a ruby necklace that must be worth a few thousand dollars.”
“You give him briskets?”
You nod. “Oh yeah, there’s always some brisket action going on. He doesn’t know it yet, but there’s a venison brisket in the works.”
“So you work together, you make him food, he gives you expensive jewellery?”
“Other things too, but yes.” You nod again. “That’s the gist. We have a good back-and-forth, but my favourite is getting to play music at the end of his broadcasts.”
Lucifer smiles softly at you. “Those are the only parts worth tuning in for.”
Your face lights up., a big grin and bright eyes. “You’ve heard?”
He nods. “Yeah. I try to catch it. The last one said fuck a lot.”
You laugh, head back against the chair. “Yeah, it did.”
“I’ll give you a radio station of your own. Be his competition,” he said.
Now you sigh. “I actually do like to work with him a lot. He’s…he’s not all bad. He’s always done right by me.”
Lucifer scoffs. “That won’t last. You can’t seriously rely on that to stay stable. Just as soon as he decides he doesn’t need you, he’ll get rid of you. Somehow or another. He’s just…one of the worst sorts of sinners, and he’s proud to be the way that he is. And you? You’re hardly like a sinner at all. I always seem to forget it.”
It’s hard to hear those things about Alastor, even harder because you know they’re probably in some way true.
You’re lost in thought until you hear him repeating your name. “Oh! So sorry, million miles away.”
“Let me get you another drink. Do you want something other than whiskey, maybe?” he asks, sounding somewhat insecure, a little tremor in his voice. “W-what do you normally take?”
You play with a rubber duck on the table and hope it doesn’t spit fire at you. “Dirty martini, two olives. Sounds weird, giving the king of hell a drink order.”
“Nonsense!” Lucifer comes over with a little drink tray, all cheerful. Sweet. He looks so happy that it warms you.
“I should see you more,” you say. “You’re fun to be around and I love ducks.”
He gives a nervous laugh and sits down, passes your drink to you. “You should definitely see me more! Gosh, that would be terrific. I can make you so many ducks!”
“What are you going to work on next?” you ask.
He winks. “I’ll keep you apprised.”
You wink back, smiling. “I’ll be waiting.”
God, there was nothing you wouldn’t give to be on air with Alastor right now. It hits you, causes a slight tremor in your body.
Lucifer gasps. “Are you okay? Is it the drink? I don’t actually know what a dirty martini is so I…May have poisoned you?”
“No! No!” You laugh and shake your head. “No, the drink is fine. To make a martini dirty you just put a bit of olive brine in.”
“Let me try again,” he says, but you stand and stop him.
“Luci, no, really, it’s okay,” you say. “Promise. See?” You drain the contents of the wine glass he had served the ‘martini’ in. Your lower eyelid gives you away, though.
“Oh God,” Lucifer says, hand covering his eyes.
You pull it away gently. “It’s okay, Luci.”
You stay that way, eyes on each other, for a moment that stretches indefinitely.
By the end of it, Lucifer kisses you. Hesitant, gentle. His hand reaches the back of your neck and by now you’re kissing back. Things are happening quickly. Somehow you wind up on one of the couches together, your back to the cushion, him on top of you…
Oh, no.
You break the kiss and sit up. “Sorry. Sorry, Luci. Sorry.”
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks in rushed voice, a slight shake to it.
“No.” You rub your eyes and smack your forehead.
All you could think of was Alastor. The little promise you made in exchange for Husk’s life. You doubted that he would actually kill Husk if he found out…but you couldn’t handle how…he would react.
“Lucifer, I…” But you couldn’t tell him that Alastor was the one keeping him from getting laid.
“I don’t understand,” Lucifer says. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you say softly, squeezing his hand. “I can’t help but notice you’re still wearing your ring.”
“Oh, is that why…? Oh, no, sweetheart, no, I just…Lilith isn’t going to come back to me. I can take it off, it’s just hard to when it’s been…such a long time, being married. I can take it off, sweetheart, don’t worry.”
You squeeze his hand again, gently. “It’s time for me to leave.”
“Oh…Okay,” he says softly. “Yes, of course. You don’t have to stay, just…I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”
You smile at him, trying your best to instill confidence. “You’ll see me again. Show me to the door?”
“No, absolutely not,” he says. “It’s dangerous! I’ll take you back to Cannibal Town. That’s also…pretty dangerous, you know.”
“Not for me.” That you can say with confidence of your own.
“Come on.” Lucifer reaches for your hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do it again. Just take my hand and I’ll bring you back. You don’t even know where you are right now.”
Well, he’s got you beat there. You squeeze his hand one more time. “Okay. Let’s go.”
You close your eyes for this part.
When you hear a whispered goodbye, you open your eyes and you’re standing before the Cannibal Town gates, alone.
“Do you think that you walk freely all throughout hell, not a care in the world, for no reason?”
Your whole body tightens at the sound of his voice. “Have you just been standing there waiting for me to show up?”
“Not quite,” Alastor says. “Answer my question.”
You sigh, eyes rolling hard. “I’m sure it’s because of you.”
“Correct! So you’re at least that smart.”
You trudge out a path set to finally get you the illusive burrito. “Alastor, I’m not in the mood. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and my absence is definitely noticed at the hotel.”
He appears in front of you. “And how do you know that? Who told you, hm?”
You sigh. “You know who I was with?”
Alastor’s claws grab your arm and then you’re in the radio tower. It nearly knocks the breath out of you and you collide with one of the panels.
“God!” You wince as your knee crashes against a sharp corner. “Hey asshole, I thought I wasn’t allowed to be here! I am so sick of being yanked around today! All I wanted—“
“I ask so little of you,” he interrupts.
Your jaw drops. “Are you serious? You? Ask me? For little?”
“The only commitment I have ever asked of you is not to have sex with that fucking man!”
“And I didn’t!” you shout before pulling out your phone. “Here, see? He just wanted to show me new rubber ducks that he made. And you know what? Mine was adorable, and she played radio when you pressed her button.”
“Am I supposed to understand this innuendo?” he asks, his voice rising.
“I didn’t sleep with him, Alastor! I don’t know what else you want me to say! I almost did, I would have, and it’s all your fucking fault that I didn’t. Someone expressed interest in me and I couldn’t act on it because I made some fake pact with you over it. I should have, God knows I need it.”
“Oh do you?” Alastor steps closer, but you don’t back down.
“Yes!” you yell. “Yes I do, but the only fucking thing I ever do is go on the goddamn radio with you!”
“Such a horrible fate!”
You cover your face with curling fingers. “Take me back to Rosie’s. Take me back to Rosie’s, Alastor. You don’t want me here, remember?”
“Of course I want you here, you fucking imbecile!”
Your anger ebbs slightly. “You do?”
“Yes! I want all of the things you do and I want them all the time! I tried to make my own sandwiches and everything! I was self-sufficient before you, you know. I never needed anyone for anything, then you walked into this hotel and insisted your way into my life, wrecking it up as you went!” Alastor takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself, trying to calm himself. “So now that I need you and go to great pains to keep you safe, you tell me that you want to sleep with that little blond gremlin?”
“How were the sandwiches?”
“Dry and uninteresting!” Alastor grabs you by your arms. “God damn you!”
“What? What?” you yell. “What do you want, Alastor? As far as I can tell, you got me out of the hotel, out of your way, right where you wanted me to be. I was going out for a fucking burrito because I can’t trust the food in Cannibal Town!”
“I advised Rosie very carefully about your dietary preferences,” he says.
“Well, hell, thanks,” you say in a much quieter tone. After a moment, you go sit in your usual spot. “Why did you bring me here, Alastor? My name must be mud around here.”
“No, it isn’t.” Alastor sits across from you. “They just blame me, and that is fine.”
“I really think you two should put all this behind you,” you say.
“The two of us? We won’t be putting anything behind us, darling.”
“Actually!” You point at him. “I was talking about you and him. The guy you call a circus freak, a blond gremlin.”
“Ha! No. Try again, dearest.”
You just roll your eyes and rub your temples. “I’m seriously so hungry and so tired. What do you want to hear?”
“I—.” Alastor cuts himself off. “You. And I…it’s your fault, all of this is your fault!”
“Okay! Fine! It’s my fault. Now what do you want to do?” you ask.
Alastor jerks you up from your seat and kisses you, hard. You feel his fingertips fan over the tops of your shoulders, drumming once before holding tight.
It’s so absolutely stunning that it takes a moment to respond at all, but that doesn’t seem to slow him down. Your heart beats so hard in your chest that you can almost hear it, and, oh, damn, this is what had been missing, fulfilling a craving that you had never known. This was what blood was for, what hands were for, why breath existed.
His hands move lower down your body as the quick seconds pass like butterflies all down your skin and to your bones.
You pull away just to catch a breath and his whole body tenses.
“What?” you ask, panting.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks.
You shake your head. “No, Al, not even a little bit. Just couldn’t breathe, blood’s all rushing.”
Alastor’s fingertips trail deliciously above your belly. “Do you know what I want?”
You swallow, lips pressing together. “Tell me.”
His thumb traces down your throat now. “I want to possess you so completely that you forget all but my name.”
His lips follow the path of his hands, surprisingly soft and warm against your neck. “Everything about you was made for me. Everything. I am never letting you go, do you understand me?” His tone was gravely serious, but with an undercurrent of…love. Yes, it was love, yearning and…maybe a bit of uncertainty. He could not hide that, not from you.
“Let’s go to my room,” you say quietly when he pulls away, and in an instant you’re there. Everything looks the same, thankfully. You go to the bed and sit at the foot of it, leaning back on your elbows.
Alastor comes and stands before you, just looking down, watching. When he finally moves, it’s to put both hands underneath your shirt and push it up, every bit of skin revealed covered in goosebumps. He slowly pushes the shirt up and up until your arms lift and it comes over your head.
“Why are you choosing to do this now?” you ask as he works on your bra.
“Because you said that you needed it and I take your needs very seriously,” he responds.
“Whoa.” You grab at my hands. “No, it’s not just me, you have to be into it too.”
Alastor laughs suddenly. “How about I show you how ‘into it’ I am? Kind of you to make certain, darling.”
“I don’t ever want to make you feel like you have to, because you’re…”
He plays with one of your exposed breasts thoughtfully. “You are kind for that, too. Perfect, really. Darling, I do whatever feels good, in all things that I do. This is good, I have simply never felt that way before you and your goddamn radio expertise and your fucking sandwiches and, oh, the briskets.”
Alastor sighs and moves on to the other one. “I have never wanted this before, and that is meaningful to me. It isn’t all I want, but I want you in all other ways so much that it makes me crave you. My hands on your body, your hands on mine. I’ve waited long enough to know that I am certain. Are you?”
“You are a discovery,” you say. “You unlocked things I didn’t realise were there. I want you badly.”
“It’s not just what the spider calls ‘general horniness’?”
You pull him down and kiss him several times before responding. “No, it isn’t. If it wasn’t specific to you, I could just as well bedded Luci. I had every opportunity earlier tonight. But I was always going to turn him down. I did so because I thought of how disappointed and angry you would have been.”
“You’re goddamn right I would have been,” he says as he climbs over you. “So perfect, just for me…”
You like the weight of him on top of you. He’s careful not to squish you, but it feels so warm and solid. There’s a shiver up your spine as he touches you, as this coat and shirt brush against your breasts. You go to card your fingers through his hair and accidentally brush against the base of one of his ears and you can see the physical reaction, the little tremors of pleasure, the moan of an ecstasy promised.
“Okay?” you ask gently, doing it again.
Alastor nods quickly. “Yes, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
You played with his ear while his tongue, lips, and teeth made their way across your throat and neck. The higher you went, the more aggressive he got, leaving little nips and bites everywhere.
You push him when you decide more clothes have to come off—his in particular. He looks confused for a half-second before you’re carefully removing his coat. You place it carefully on a chair near the bed, but almost rip the shirt off of him.
He gives a little huff of laughter. “Eager, are we darling?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” you say, hauling him in to kiss him again.
You love the feeling of your bare chests pressed together. Alastor’s breathing starts to come more quickly than before.
It’s you going after his neck, this time. You can hear something strangled in his throat, the vibrations of it against your lips. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”
“Forgive me, darling. I am new to this.”
“Is it the very first time?”
He hums. “Technically no. Once, when I was a teenager, a very long time ago. I barely remember it at all, but I know it was nothing like this.”
You smile against his neck and nuzzle softly. “Doesn’t matter, you’ll know what to do.”
“I have every confidence in us both. We know each other on a professional and emotional level of intimacy, I doubt physical intimacy will be the thing that does us in.”
“It may be a bit early days, but I hope nothing ever does,” you say.
He cradles the back of your head to keep your lips close to his neck. He huffs. “Early days, my ass. If I was not sure about you I would not have started anything. If any part of you is unsure, I will make it sure. I promise that I won’t be a regret.”
You kiss your way down the side of his neck. “Lucifer would have been a regret. You will not be.”
He huffs. “As gratifying as that is to hear, please do not mention the circus freak during physical intimacy ever again. Or ever again in general, if possible.”
You laugh softly and hold him close. “I’ll never mention him in this context ever again, I promise.”
“I am much obliged, my love.” Alastor tugs at the jeans you’re wearing, but, having no experience with such garments, he doesn’t seem to realise they have to be unzipped first.
You reach between your bodies to help him out.
“Such complicated garments,” he says beneath his breath.
“No more complicated than yours! Your trousers unzip too, don’t they?” you ask.
“It is called a double standard, darling, and as per usual, unfortunately for you, it works out in my favour.” Alastor gets you down to your underwear and plays with the elastic waistband. “I would like to make something abundantly clear to you, darling. I will give you this one last chance.”
“For what?” you ask, kissing down his neck, the tip of his ear between your fingers. You feel it twitch.
“No, no, stop that for a moment, darling,” he says, so you do. When you’ve stopped and he’s got you looking at him again, he continues. “For just a moment, while you listen to this. I am telling you right now that you are reaching the point of no return. Once I have taken you, you will belong to me for eternity. That is not a hyperbole, it is reality. I will never allow you to leave me. Along with that promise, I promise to keep you safe, always, just as I am now, even if it means temporarily being away from me. I promise to love you. I promise you will want for nothing; everything that is in my power to give you, which is exhaustive and far-reaching, any little want or need you have, I will give it to you.”
You smile at him. “I don’t have as much to offer, but I’ll be the best damn radio engineer, the best damn brisket-maker, the best damn friend, and the best damn…”
“Mate,” he supplies.
“The best damn mate, I’ll be that,” you promise.
“You accept?” Alastor asks, and when you nod, he kisses you hard. “You are perfect. So good. And you understand? Completely? You have no doubts? Because there will be no other appropriate time to feel them. This is a permanent arrangement that you should not take lightly.”
“Trying to talk me out of it?”
“Trying not to be a regret,” he says, and it makes your expression warm.
“You aren’t and you won’t be,” you promise. “You were the answer to all the questions I didn’t know I was asking of myself from the moment I met you. I didn’t know, but it was always there, and now, like…I don’t know how to describe it. There’s not a lot of blood flowing to my brain, you know.”
He chuckles once and nods. “Then I will not ask you again. It is settled now, is it?”
“It is.”
“Good.” Alastor hooks his thumb into the elastic of your underwear indelicately and pulls them down and off your body.
You don’t even know how many naked people Alastor has seen. It’s possible he hasn’t seen another person naked since the first time with someone, so many years ago. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing, though.
“Well, now that the matter is settled.” Alastor lifts you up and places your head on a pillow. “There is something I have wanted to do since I met you. It was a strange craving, something that should have warned me of what was to come.”
“What’s the strange craving?” you ask, but rather than answer verbally he rolls his tongue between your leg, right against your clit, and you moan rather loudly with surprise.
Alastor laughs quietly to himself. “Enjoying yourself, darling?”
“Ohhhh God,” was all you could manage.
He licks your clit again before his tongue dips inside you, and when it does, Alastor elongates it—this shocks you, causes a gasp and a full-body shiver. You never thought such a thing was possible, and it’s certainly…a new experience. He rubs at your clit with his thumb while his tongue works inside you. He keeps your legs apart with his broad shoulders, tongue massaging against your walls until he reaches a spot that makes you scream. He laughs softly against your flesh and you’re panting now.
“Alastor…” Your legs tense up around him, muscles straining. He’s moaning against you as he works your body like he owns it, and maybe he does now. Your thighs tense around him and you…you’re getting louder.
“Is there something you can do about the noise?” you ask, even though you hate stopping him.
He keeps rubbing your clit while he speaks. “I can. But I will not. Louder.”
Alastor goes right back to it, his tongue working you hard, and he forces you to get louder just from the way his tongue moves against your walls.
“Oh, fuck…Oh, Al, don’t stop, please don’t stop…yeah…yeah, like that, like that…” Your breath comes in harder and harder, faster and faster, until you’re screaming, until your thighs are aching, until your pussy is so overstimulated that he pulls back with an enormous grin on his face.
He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, but mercifully only briefly. “Tell me when I can take you.”
“Just a moment,” you pant. “Not a long wait, just a few minutes.”
“Very good,” Alastor says. “I’ll take other pleasure from other parts of your body in the meantime then, darling.”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “You do that, Al. Fucking hell.”
His tongue swirls along your nipple. “Yes darling?”
“You really took that one from the soul,” you say with a soft, shaky laugh. You nudge his shoulder. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“You’re sure?”
You nod a few times. “Yeah, yeah. Ready to go.”
You press your back down against the blankets, your head flat against the pillow. Alastor kneels between your knees and shoves them far apart, making plenty of room for himself. You’re silently grateful that he still seems to know exactly what to do—you’d gladly teach him if you had to, but it was so much better this way. He takes himself in hand and rubs the head of his cock from your clit and down, watches your muscles involuntarily jump slightly, a wide smirk on his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his shadow cast upon the wall, the elongated horns, that starving grin.
“I see you’ve noticed him,” Alastor says, entering you all at once. “Keep your eyes on me, dear. Pay him no mind.”
“You consider him separate from you?” you ask, your body adjusting to the size of him easily.
Alastor, however, does not seem to be having such an easy go of things. There is a look of concentration on his face, his lip between his teeth. It takes a moment for him to reply. “I consider him an echo of me. I’ll warn you now, I do not know how conversational I will be from this point on.”
“All the same,” you wink at him. “It’s not your conversation I’m after at the moment.”
It takes almost no time at all to get loud for him again, but this time it wasn’t just you being pleasured. This was a new world for Alastor and he was lost in it, captive to it. His hands grip at your hips as he fucks you harder and harder, the mattress shaking beneath you. Soon the headboard smacks against the wall and you thank God there’s no one on the other side.
“Al!” You hook one knee around his waist. “Al, please, deeper.”
He grabs your other knee and pulls it around him so he can get a better angle. He moves to whisper in your ear. “You feel so soft inside, like velvet. So warm, so hot…like that little pop of heat when you stand with your back to a fireplace…”
You moan loudly, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter around him, the sound slick and obscene. You can hear him curse, how his hips snap faster and faster until he finally spills his seed in you, fucking you through it.
Alastor’s damp forehead connects with your shoulder and you can feel his breath coming harsh against it. His hands soften their hard grip on your thighs and fall away, moving up to your waist, your ribs, one thumb against your nipple.
You play with his hair, with one of his ears, but it doesn’t seem to rile him up again, which was good, because you didn’t want to be told to stop. You turn your head against his and kiss his hair.
“Okay?” you ask after a while.
Upon hearing your voice, he lifts his head and then himself off of you. He crashes on his back beside you, his arm coming up around you, pulling you to him.
“I am so…so grateful that it was you,” he says. “I am grateful to have you. Forever. You and I will create a home next week, here at the hotel. It is well within my power to do. It can be any way you like. You should jot down ideas while you’re at Rosie’s.”
You groan. “I have to go back to Rosie’s, don’t I?”
“Yes, my lovely,” he says. “You will still reside at Rosie’s for the duration of this week until the Extermination is through and we are free to do as we please. We do not have to go straight back into radio. Maybe…we take some time to ourselves. It will be well-earned.”
“You’re going to need a break in general,” you say, pushing sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes. “You’re doing so much for all of us. I can’t believe you’re going to kill Adam.”
“Believe it, my love,” he says softly. “Believe me. This is our future.”
“I do believe you. I trust you,” you say. “And I’m sorry for being so bratty about being sent away. I am effectively useless in any type of fight scenario. I would hold everyone back.”
“You would sacrifice yourself too easily. I never said those things to hurt you, I said them because I feared what would happen to you.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I know.”
#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor imagines#hazbin alastor#alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor smut#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin alastor x you#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor smut#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel imagines
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1800-Curse-Control || Lilia Vanrouge
You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.
“Lilia,” you said, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the counter in Ramshackle’s disaster of a kitchen. “Grim’s eating me out of house and home, literally. If I can’t afford the repairs soon, the roof will cave in. But all he cares about is premium tuna! Do you know how much that stuff costs?”
Lilia, who was casually floating upside down for no apparent reason, looked entirely too entertained. “Ah, the plight of a homeowner,” he said, grinning. “Why not turn your misfortune into opportunity? I’ve been told I have exceptional customer service skills, and I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s open a hotline for removing curses!”
You blinked at him. “A hotline. For curing curses.”
“Yes, my dear beastie,” he said, flipping upright midair and landing gracefully. “Think about it! This school is crawling with fools who drink unlabeled potions, poke magical artifacts, and anger vengeful spirits just for sport. You’d be rich in a week!”
“…I hate how much sense that actually makes.”
“It’s a foolproof plan,” Lilia continued, already pulling a notepad from somewhere to scribble down ideas. “I’ll handle the exorcisms and the cackling, naturally. You, my dear entrepreneur, can be the charming face of the operation. We’ll call it—hmm—‘Curse-B-Gone.’”
“Absolutely not.”
“Fine, ‘Hex Hotline.’”
You considered it. On one hand, it sounded completely ridiculous. On the other hand, there was that third-year who accidentally swapped his voice with a frog’s last week and the freshmen who kept mysteriously sprouting feathers.
“…How much are we charging?”
“Ah-ha! I knew you’d come around!” Lilia said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see, we’ll need tiers. Minor hex removal? Hundred thaumarks. Major curses—hair-growing hexes, spontaneous transformation curses—those will start at Five Hundred.”
“And what about something, like, really bad? What if someone’s whole body turns into a pumpkin or something?”
“That’s a premium package. One thousand thaumarks.”
You nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. But if this flops, you’re buying Grim’s tuna for the next month.”
Lilia smirked, his fangs glinting mischievously. “Deal.”
By the end of the day, you’d set up a magical hotline using some weird orb Lilia “borrowed” from the library, a vaguely threatening poster campaign across the campus (“Cursed? Hexed? A jackal-headed god show up at your dorm? Call us!”), and a suspiciously well-stocked supply of anti-curse materials Lilia claimed were “leftovers” from his youth.
You weren’t sure whether to feel excited or like you’d just signed up for the most bizarre mistake of your life. Either way, you couldn’t wait to see how this would go down.
The orb hotline rang for the first time, glowing ominously on the rickety desk in Ramshackle. You and Lilia exchanged glances.
“Answer it!” he whispered, like this was some spy mission and not a cursed customer service line.
With a deep breath, you picked it up. “Uh… Hello, this is the Cursed and Confused Hotline. How can we—”
“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Ace’s voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S GOING TO KILL ME THIS TIME!”
You winced, holding the orb away from your ear. “Ace? What happened?”
“I DON’T KNOW! I WAS JUST TRYING TO MAKE TEA!”
“Okay, and?”
“And I might’ve…accidentally used that weird sugar in the Heartslabyul pantry, the one that glows in the dark? And now Riddle’s head is covered in, like…peonies. Big, pink peonies. They keep growing whenever he gets mad, which, uh, is always.”
You slapped your forehead. “You cursed your housewarden?!”
“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Ace wailed. “I thought it was sugar, not cursed fertilizer! Look, can you just fix this before he declares ‘off with my head’ for real?”
“Ugh, fine. Where are you now?”
“Hiding in the rose bushes. He hasn’t found me yet, but I think I heard him sharpening a guillotine.”
“Classic Heartslabyul,” Lilia said cheerfully, already packing his so-called emergency kit.
When you and Lilia arrived at Heartslabyul, it was pure chaos. Riddle stood in the center of the garden, his face as red as his hair—and also half-obscured by an explosion of giant pink peonies blooming out of his head like some cursed bouquet.
“TREY!” Riddle bellowed. “GET THE GARDEN SHEARS!”
Ace was crouched in a rose bush nearby, whispering frantically. “Please tell me you brought an anti-cursed-flower spray or something!”
You ignored him and approached Riddle cautiously. “Uh, Riddle? You’ve got—”
“I KNOW WHAT I HAVE!” Riddle shrieked, a few more flowers blooming on his head. “I demand immediate remedy! Or else—”
“We’ll fix it,” Lilia cut in, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. “Now, let’s see…” He pulled a vial of glowing liquid from his kit. “This should do the trick.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing the suspiciously fizzing vial.
“Of course not,” Lilia said, popping it open.
He dumped the liquid over Riddle’s head without warning. The flowers immediately shriveled up and disappeared.
Riddle blinked, touching his head in astonishment. “…It’s gone?”
“You’re welcome,” Lilia said with a dramatic bow.
Ace peeked out from the bushes. “So…he’s not mad anymore, right?”
Riddle’s death glare answered that question.
“RUN!” you yelled, dragging Ace out of the garden as Riddle shouted about punishment for “sugar crimes.”
Back at Ramshackle, you slumped against the desk. “We’re never doing house calls again.”
Lilia just laughed. “Oh, but the drama! I live for it!”
The hotline orb began glowing again, pulsing with a foreboding, bluish light.
You groaned. “If this is Ace again, I swear—”
Lilia waved his hand. “Come now, it’s probably another entertaining disaster! Answer it!”
You reluctantly picked up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What’s your—”
“FIX. THIS. NOW!” came Azul’s shrill, panicked voice.
You blinked. “Azul? What’s—”
“I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE WHAT HE’S DONE THIS TIME!”
“Oh, come on, Azul!” Floyd’s voice cut in, cackling in the background. “It’s a masterpiece!”
“Masterpiece?” Azul screeched. “You flooded the dining room and filled it with—WHY ARE THERE EELS IN THE SOUP POTS?”
“Because it’s hilarious!” Floyd howled, clearly having the time of his life.
Jade’s calm voice joined in, oozing politeness as always. “To be fair, Floyd has a point. The eels are thriving in there.”
Azul sputtered like a broken faucet. “THRIVING?! THEY’RE STEALING PEOPLE’S FOOD!”
“Sounds efficient to me,” Floyd said. You could practically hear him smirking. “Dinner and a show!”
Lilia perked up. “Eels in soup pots? How creative!”
“Don’t encourage him!” Azul barked. “Do you know how much it costs to repair the water damage he’s caused? The walls are dripping! The chandelier is dripping! I AM DRIPPING!”
“That’s not cursed,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “That’s just Floyd being—well, Floyd.”
“Oh, no, it’s cursed,” Azul hissed. “Every time I try to remove the eels, the water level rises. They’re like aquatic squatters! Fix it or I swear I’ll—”
The sound of something massive splashing cut him off, followed by Floyd’s uncontrollable laughter.
“HAHAHA! He slipped into the soup pot! Jade, did you see that?”
“I did,” Jade replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “It was quite elegant.”
“AZUL’S AN EEL NOW!” Floyd cried. “Eel bros for life, baby!”
The orb started vibrating violently.
“Get. Over. Here. Now.” Azul’s voice was barely a whisper, the tone of someone seconds away from an aneurysm.
You sighed and grabbed your bag. “Let’s go before he implodes.”
When you arrived at Mostro Lounge, it was exactly what you expected—and somehow worse. The entire dining area was flooded, eels swam lazily in the soup pots, and Azul was perched on a chair, drenched from head to toe and glaring murderously at Floyd, who was happily paddling through the water like it was his personal playground.
“Finally!” Azul barked, waving his wet hand. “Do something! Anything!”
Floyd, half-submerged in a soup pot, waved at you. “Hey! You wanna join the eel party? First rule—no rules!”
Lilia clapped his hands. “This is magnificent chaos!”
Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll double your pay if you fix this immediately.”
You glanced at Lilia, who was already pouring a suspiciously glowing liquid into the water.
“This should work,” he said cheerfully.
The water started to drain, the eels vanished in puffs of smoke, and the room returned to normal—except for Floyd, who now floated upside down in midair, spinning like a cursed top.
“Whoa, this is AWESOME!” Floyd laughed, twirling like a maniac. “I’m a flying eel!”
Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you said “I’m charging you extra for emotional damages.”
The hotline orb flared up again, casting a frantic purple glow. You groaned, mid-sip of tea.
“I don’t know if I can handle more insanity.”
Lilia, perched upside down on the couch, grinned. “Nonsense! Chaos keeps the heart young. Answer it!”
Reluctantly, you picked it up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What did you do, and how bad is it?”
“It’s me! It’s Epel!” came the desperate, whisper-shouted voice of the Pomefiore freshman. “I need your help—immediately! I’ve got the worst curse of all on me.”
“Worst curse?” you asked, frowning. “What’s going on?”
“Vil,” Epel said, voice shaking. “And Rook.”
“...Epel, those are people, not curses.”
“They are when Vil finds out I repurposed his limited-edition face mask jars as apple cider mugs for the guys in Savanaclaw!”
Lilia burst into a delighted cackle. “Oh, that’s fantastic!”
“Not fantastic! Vil’s gonna flay me alive!” Epel hissed. “And Rook’s hunting me down like a rabbit in the woods. Please, ya gotta help!”
You tried not to laugh. “How exactly do you want me to help? I can’t exactly—”
A loud thud echoed through the call, followed by Epel screaming, “He found me! NO! PUT THAT BOW DOWN!”
“Bonjour, my friend~!” Rook’s voice came through, as smooth as velvet and disturbingly cheerful. “Ah, how beautiful the chase! Like a fox cornered by the hounds, our petit pomme has finally been found!”
“ROOK, NO! DON’T HAND ME OVER!”
“Oh, petit lapin,” Rook said, unbothered, “the punishment will only make you stronger. Think of it as a trial by fire!”
“I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONGER, I WANNA BE ALIVE!” Epel shrieked.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Rook, what exactly are you planning to do with him?”
“Ah, worry not,” Rook replied. “I am but a humble messenger delivering him to justice. Vil has been most patient.”
“HE CALLED ME A PEASANT AND THREW A HEEL AT ME, THAT’S PATIENT?” Epel howled.
Lilia leaned forward, thoroughly entertained. “Rook, at least let us have a word with Epel before he meets his doom.”
“But of course!”
“HELP ME!” Epel screamed the moment Rook handed him the phone. “Distract them, hex me, I dunno, CURSE ME INTO A TREE OR SOMETHING—”
“Epel,” you said firmly, trying not to laugh, “you’re going to have to face Vil eventually. What’s the worst he could do?”
“THE WORST? Oh, I dunno, exile me to a skincare bootcamp for the rest of my natural life?”
Rook’s voice floated in. “Imagine it, petit pomme: cleansing facials, detoxifying baths, and no more cider mugs. A new you!”
“YOU STAY OUTTA THIS!”
You sighed. “I can offer one thing.”
“Anything!”
“An apology. I suggest you start practicing now.”
“An apology?! I called Vil’s collection overhyped snake oil. I’m DOOMED!”
“Not if you run fast enough,” Rook chimed in cheerfully. “Shall we test your stamina?”
The call ended with Epel’s scream, followed by the distinct sound of someone bolting at full speed.
“Well,” Lilia said, smiling. “That was worth every second.”
Jamil’s voice crackled through the orb strained and absolutely done.
"Hi, yeah, it’s me again."
You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess. Kalim tried to throw a party?"
"And Cater," Jamil growled, the sound of something crashing in the background. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage one chaos gremlin? Now imagine two. They’ve cursed half the dorm—random objects are coming to life, and singing. And I don’t mean pleasant singing. I mean like if a banshee and a kazoo had a love child."
Lilia leaned in beside you, eyes glittering with delight. "Oho, this sounds entertaining! What did they do this time?"
Jamil sighed deeply, as if he’d just aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Kalim thought it would be fun to 'spice up' a party by enchanting the decorations. Cater encouraged him, saying it would make a great Magicam post. The result? The curtains are now tap-dancing, the chandelier won’t stop singing old sea shanties, and the punch bowl tried to bite me."
Lilia clapped his hands. "This sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon! Let’s go!"
You groaned. "Why do I have to go?"
"Because you’re the only one who can keep Lilia from making things worse," Jamil deadpanned.
Arriving at Scarabia was like stepping into a fever dream. The furniture was waltzing around the room, the ceiling fan was chanting, "Spin me right round, baby, right round," and the aforementioned punch bowl snarled at you as you walked in.
Kalim, of course, was having the time of his life, clapping to the rhythm of the furniture parade. Cater was filming everything, laughing as he tried to get the chandelier to do a TikTok dance.
"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Jamil hissed, his hair practically frazzled.
"Let’s fix this before someone dies," you muttered, pulling out the anti-curse toolkit Lilia had handed you on the way.
"Or before someone posts this to Magicam and the entire world sees it," Jamil added grimly, glaring at Cater.
It started smoothly enough—well, as smoothly as any curse-breaking session with Lilia could go. The two of you worked to unravel the enchantments while dodging flying pillows and shrieking party streamers.
Then, of course, you made the mistake of touching an enchanted lamp.
It burst into song—loud, off-key, and somehow extremely personal. The lyrics were all about your lack of a love life and questionable fashion choices. Before you could fight back, it tangled itself around your arms and legs, dragging you upward toward the chandelier.
"Hey, uh, Lilia? Little help!"
Lilia, ever the dramatic savior, leaped into action. With a mischievous grin, he sliced through the magical binds with a well-aimed spell and caught you mid-fall.
You blinked up at him, heart hammering in your chest. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, his fangs showing in a victorious smirk. He cradled you with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible given his stature.
"You alright there, my dear?" he asked, voice low and teasing.
"Yeah, I’m fine," you muttered, face heating up. "Just…you know…trying not to die."
But your brain wasn’t focusing on that. It was too busy processing the fact that Lilia was holding you like you weighed nothing, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Damn it, why is my heart beating so fast?
He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure? Your face is a bit flushed."
"Nope! Totally fine!" you squeaked, scrambling out of his arms as soon as your feet touched the ground.
Jamil, watching the whole thing from across the room, rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you’re cursed too."
"Shut up, Jamil."
It took another hour, but the dorm was finally back to normal—or as normal as Scarabia could be. Kalim apologized profusely, Cater promised to delete the footage (he didn’t), and Jamil looked like he might snap at any moment.
As you and Lilia walked out, you tried to calm your racing heart, but he leaned in with a knowing grin.
"Quite the adventure today, wasn’t it?"
"Sure," you replied quickly, hoping your face wasn’t still red.
He hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what’s got your heart racing so much. You’re not catching feelings for your favorite partner-in-chaos, are you?"
"Not a chance," you lied, your heart betraying you with another treacherous thump.
Lilia just chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if he believed you—or if he was just letting you stew in your own embarrassment for fun.
The enchanted orb buzzed frantically, and you groaned as you reached for it. The second you accepted the call, you heard Deuce.
“HELP! WE MESSED UP BAD!”
“Deuce?” you asked, already dreading the answer. “What did you do this time?”
Jack’s voice came through, exasperated and growly. “It wasn’t just him. I was there too.”
“Great,” you deadpanned. “So, what kind of mess am I cleaning up now?”
Deuce gulped. “We, uh… were practicing some spellwork for exams—”
“Right by the Spelldrive practice field,” Jack added grimly.
Your eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you—”
“Destroyed the field? Yeah,” Deuce admitted miserably. “But we didn’t mean to! The explosion was an accident!”
You heard a sharp, angry voice in the background: “AN ACCIDENT?! YOU DESTROYED HALF THE FIELD, YOU LITTLE—”
“Leona’s there?” you asked, already standing up.
Deuce nodded frantically. “He’s so mad. Please come before he kills us!”
“Stay put,” you said, grabbing your things. “And pray he doesn’t finish you off before we get there.”
The Spelldrive practice field was a warzone. One goalpost was completely obliterated, sand smoldered in random patches across the ground, and an entire section of the bleachers looked like it had been hit by a tornado.
Leona was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Deuce and Jack, who were huddled behind a tipped-over bench like it could save them. His team stood a safe distance away, clearly too smart to get involved.
You arrived with Lilia in tow, who was already grinning like he’d just stumbled upon the most entertaining show of the year.
“Oh, this is delightful,” Lilia mused, surveying the carnage. “It’s like an abstract painting of destruction.”
“Not helping,” you muttered, jogging toward the scene.
Leona’s sharp green eyes locked onto you. “Finally. You gonna fix this mess, or do I get to turn these two into sandbags?”
“Leona,” you said, stepping between him and the disaster twins, “We’ll handle it. Just… don’t murder them. Yet.”
Leona snorted. “You’ve got five minutes.”
Lilia hummed a jaunty tune as he began waving his hands over the destroyed sections of the field. Slowly, the sand settled, the goalpost reformed, and the bleachers stopped looking like they’d gone through a blender.
Meanwhile, you kept Leona from pouncing on Deuce and Jack, who were watching Lilia work with wide eyes.
“You two better hope I don’t find out about another ‘accident,’” Leona growled, looming over you.
“Relax,” you said, holding up a hand. “They’re idiots, not criminals. Save your energy for your team.”
Leona rolled his eyes but stepped back, muttering something about “babysitters.”
When everything was finally back in order, Lilia dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile. “That was quite fun. We should let those two cause chaos more often.”
You shot him a look. “Please don’t encourage them.”
Leona, arms crossed and clearly annoyed, stepped closer. “You’re done? Good. I’ll send Ruggie with something to pay you later.” Then he smirked, eyes flicking between you and Lilia. “Now keep your lovesick asses away from my practice field.”
Your brain short-circuited. “Wha—?! Lovesick?”
Leona just walked off with a lazy wave, leaving you standing there, half-mortified.
Lilia leaned in, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh my. He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t you start,” you muttered, your face burning.
But when you turned to walk away, Lilia was by your side, chuckling softly. He caught your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop for just a moment. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice quieter and more serious, “you were quite impressive back there, keeping Leona from turning them into mincemeat.”
Your heart did a flip. “Uh… thanks?”
He let go with a grin, stepping back and returning to his usual playful tone. “Now, let’s see if we can avoid the next disaster, hmm?”
You weren’t sure if your face would ever cool down.
Potions class with the first-year gang was never uneventful. Today was no exception. The room smelled faintly of burnt caramel as Grim waved his tiny paws at Ace, who was leaning smugly on the table.
“I told you not to put that in!” Grim yelped.
“I barely touched it!” Ace shot back.
“It doesn’t matter who did it!” Sebek barked, slamming his hands on the table. “What matters is that our potion is—”
“About to blow,” Jack growled, pointing to the cauldron bubbling ominously.
“Wait—WHAT?!” you yelped, but it was too late.
The cauldron erupted, spraying a shimmering pink mist over everyone. The class erupted into chaos as Sebek shouted about “inferior techniques,” Epel coughed dramatically like he was dying, and Deuce tried (and failed) to douse the sparks with his coat.
You, unfortunately, caught the brunt of the potion to the face.
You thought the effects were mild at first—just a faint warmth in your chest and the echo of the sugary-sweet scent in your nose. But when you sat down at lunch with Lilia and Malleus, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.
Lilia was chatting animatedly, laughing at his own jokes and waving his fork in the air, while Malleus nodded thoughtfully. But you weren’t hearing a word.
Your brain had decided that the only thing worth focusing on was how kissable Lilia’s lips looked.
Wait, what?
You shook your head, trying to clear it, but it only got worse. Now you were noticing how nice his voice was. And his smile. And the way his hand brushed yours when he passed the salt—
Oh, no.
“Child of man,” Malleus said, pulling you from your internal meltdown, “you seem… distracted.”
You blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah. Distracted. Totally fine. Definitely not—uh—totally infatuated with Lilia or anything.”
Lilia looked up, smirking. “Oh? How flattering.”
You nearly choked on your drink. “IT’S THE POTION!”
Malleus watched you pace back and forth in the hallway, his expression somewhere between amused and curious.
“You have to fix me,” you begged, grabbing his shoulders. “This has to be the potion talking. There’s no way I just—randomly—started thinking about Lilia like that!”
Malleus tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. “You truly believe you are under an enchantment?”
“Yes! Of course!” You gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s Lilia! He’s my partner in crime! He’s—he’s—”
“Kissable?” Malleus offered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Your hands dropped to your sides. “You are so not helping.”
He stepped closer, his presence calm but commanding, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Very well, child of man. Allow me to assess your condition.”
Malleus leaned forward, his magic swirling faintly around him as he studied you with eerie precision.
After a moment, he straightened, folding his arms. “The potion you were exposed to was a failure. Its intended effects are nonexistent.”
You froze. “What are you saying?”
Malleus raised an eyebrow. “I am saying that you are not under a spell. Your feelings are entirely your own.”
You stared at Malleus in horror.
“So… you’re telling me… I’m not cursed?”
“Precisely.”
“And this… this whole… wanting to kiss Lilia thing…” You paused, voice dropping to a mortified whisper. “That’s just me?”
Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed.”
You covered your face with your hands. “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”
Lilia’s voice drifted from the next room. “Are you done conspiring with Malleus, beastie? Lunch is getting cold!”
You peeked through your fingers at Malleus, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying your suffering.
“Good luck, child of man,” he said, patting your shoulder.
You groaned. “I’m going to die.”
And yet, as you returned to the table and sat down next to Lilia, who greeted you with his usual teasing grin, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
You didn’t think it could get any worse than being late for class, but that was before Grim decided to experiment with potions unsupervised. Now, you and Lilia were sprinting through the halls of NRC, dodging a cursed army of flying spoons.
“I told Grim not to use the potions lab as a snack bar!” you gasped, barely ducking as a spoon zoomed past your head with terrifying precision.
Lilia, running beside you, was grinning like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “I must admit, this is an impressive level of chaos. Even I wouldn’t have thought to curse cutlery!”
“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you panted, grabbing his arm as another wave of spoons turned the corner. “Hide!”
The two of you dove behind a nearby tapestry, pressing against the wall as the spoons zipped past, their metallic clinking fading into the distance.
For a moment, it was quiet—except for the pounding of your heart.
Your breathing slowly steadied, but your heart didn’t. Not when Lilia was so close, his eyes gleaming with excitement and his cheeks flushed from the chase.
You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Lilia,” you blurted, voice trembling but determined, “I’m in love with you.”
Lilia blinked, his surprise evident for a split second before a soft smile curved his lips. “Ah, I see. Was it the spoons that gave me away, or my undeniable charm?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m serious!”
He chuckled, gently pulling your hands away to meet your eyes. “So am I. I’ve felt the same for quite some time.”
Your breath hitched. “Really?”
“Really,” he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed yours, soft and fleeting, but it sent your heart racing like you were being chased by a thousand cursed spoons.
He pulled back, his grin mischievous. “Now, let’s survive this first date, shall we?”
He grabbed your hand, pulling you from your hiding spot just as the spoons began circling back like a swarm of metallic bees.
“Run!”
You laughed despite yourself, sprinting hand-in-hand with Lilia as the chaos erupted around you once more.
And yet, as you glanced at him—his hair wild, his smile unshakable, his fingers warm around yours—you couldn’t help but think:
I want this forever.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia x reader#lilia x you#lilia twst#lilia vanrouge#lilia
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pale blue eyes continue to watch the beautiful brunette with a combination of amusement and adoration, thinking how lucky he is to be sitting here with her. jokes aside, she really could have gotten married. a lot of their classmates are already on their second child. it’s a miracle he’s getting yet another chance to get this right. “right back at you, lucy gray baird. you’re one of a kind.” he’d know. after all, there was a time when he was actively searching for a replacement and failed miserably. there’s no one like her. listening intently, billy occasionally nods his head but doesn’t try to interrupt lucy gray. he’s silently taking notes, learning what exactly it is that she wants from life and wondering how he’s going to give it all to her. romanticize life. it can’t be all that difficult, not when he’s already romanticizing every moment they spend together. “not sure if we can plan a trip to hawaii now,” he chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head because she’s just so adorable, daydreaming about this fairytale-like life while looking at him with these big, bambi eyes, “but i’ll do my best to make sure your stay in new york is better than any disney movie we’ve ever watched.” it’s a big promise, but he’ll live up to it. he can definitely take her ball dancing or somewhere snowy, his brain already coming up with a bunch of little surprises that hopefully will make her feel special. like a princess. “thank you. the dessert’s always the best part, my favorite,” he laughs, finishing the chocolate cake in two seconds and leaning back, feeling his own stomach bulging a little. hand resting on the belt buckle, as if to keep it from giving way. “if they’re still there, that sounds real good to me. i’m free tonight, no other plans. i’m all yours,” he laughs, briefly wondering if he should ask her to join him for that mini premiere gala / press conference tomorrow, but figuring it would be a bad idea for a multitude of reasons. “i’m booked tomorrow, and then the day after tomorrow, i’m flyin’ back home.” so tonight is really all they have. “but i’m up for anything today.” he catches the waitress’ eye, smiling softly and indicating he’d like to get the bill.
"well, i agree." but luckily they aren't marry anyone else so far. or maybe that would be a devastating thought... then again, didn't she tell herself she just wanted to be friends? yes she did. "a really good way, billy bonney." lucy gray responds affectionately. "no, i like work," to start off clarifying, since her mama has always been a hard worker and she took that after her. she loves to work on the farm– tending to crops, planting seeds, harvesting, taking after the horses and other animals, so that's not a problem. "i mean... just to find magic in life, even all the small things too. to romanticize life. that's what i mean by wantin' to live like a fairytale. or well, keep livin' in one. since i've been doing this since i've been little...pretendin' there's somethin' magical to be found everywhere. and do fun things that are fairytale-like. picnics in meadows full of flowers. goin' to a ball and dancin' in a big princess dress. goin' to hawaii and pettin' dolphins. goin' somewhere snowy and warm with tons of christmas lights." those are some magical things close to the magic in fairytales. "that's true, so that's smart of you." smirking proudly, pushing her plate away, "mm-mm," shaking her head, "i can't eat another bite now." putting a hand on her belly, there's a pudge now hanging over her skirt and it's about to start hurting if she forces anything else, "you eat it." she confirms, he can definitely have that last piece. "what do you wanna do? you wanna go play a game at the arcade? i know maudey would love to see you again, if they're still there. then call it a day after some fun there or...? i'm not feelin' sleepy anymore, so i'm up for anything."
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but daddy, i love him! | percy jackson
ღ book! percy jackson x daughter of zeus! reader ღ warnings: pregnancy mention, sex implications :) i did this long ago so it sucks! ღ wc: 825
Sitting at the table and staring intently at the wood, she was still trying to adjust her dress so it wouldn’t slip over her shoulders, having not gotten the chance to fasten it properly.
Just seconds ago, she couldn’t think about anything other than the feeling of his body close to hers, their lips pressed together and the heat of the room; now, she could only think about how to prevent her father from throwing a lightning bolt at Percy.
Next to her, Percy looked just as uneasy; he fidgeted nervously as her father gripped about how irresponsible and foolish they’d been. His eyes kept darting to the floor, to the walls, anywhere but at Zeus, who was ranting furiously.
“Do you even know what you’re doing? For Gods’ sake, you’re so young! You could get… you know what!”
Zeus paced back and forth across the room, his eyes darting around like a predator circling its prey as his hands were planted on his hips. She turned to Percy, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated flair, and then bit her lip, exhausted by the endless cycle of this conversation.
It was always the same, for God’s sake. She had heard it a thousand times: his disapproval, his anger, his worry. Nothing was ever different, and somehow, it always ended the same way.
“Seriously, you don’t want to have…” He paused for a second to point at Percy, his look of disgust so exaggerated that the boy couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “…his kids.”
“And what if I do? What if I do want to have his kids?” She fired back without hesitation, her words cutting through the heated atmosphere like a blade. "What if I am having his babies?”
The room was so quiet now that the sound of a pin dropping would have been deafening.
Percy looked horrified, his wide eyes locked on her as he tapped her leg anxiously, trying to process what she had just said. Not that he wasn’t flattered; honestly, in his far-off, very far-off, future plans, having kids with her was definitely on the list.
But this? Oh, no. This was how he was going to die. Zeus would absolutely kill him with his bare hands, no question about it.
She barely held in her laugh as her father’s face turned crimson. His jaw dropped, his lips parted into a grimace of pure disgust, and his eyebrows arched in an almost comical way.
She quickly covered her face with her hand to keep from bursting out laughing. “No, I’m not, but you should’ve seen your face!”
But Zeus was already consumed by rage. As thunder growled like an angry beast in the sky and the rain began to pour, he stormed toward the door, his anger crackling in the air around him. Without a second thought, he yanked the door open with a violent motion.
He pointed at Percy, who quickly jumped to his feet to explain himself. “Sir, I-”
“Get out of my house, now! I told her it was a bad idea, but no, she insisted on being with you! Stay away from her!”
And he had no choice but to leave, like a stray dog being kicked to the streets.
She felt torn, unsure of what to do next. Disobeying her father was the last thing she wanted, but her heart was telling her to run after Percy. Zeus’s endless ranting grew louder, but they only became more distant.
Percy loved her, and she loved him –what else mattered?
Through the window, she saw Percy approach the gates, his body language defeated, head hanging low as he opened the small door. Her chest tightened as she turned back to her father, offering a brief sideways smile, as if to apologize for what she was about to do.
Under his glare, she stood up from her chair, defying him.
“I'm sorry, daddy. I love him!”
“¡Don't even think-!”
But she was already sprinting toward the open door, running outside and disregarding the shouting.
The rain struck her nearly naked body, her unbuttoned dress almost slipping from her shoulders, and her hair becoming drenched. She cried out his name, hoping he’d turn and notice her.
And he did, of course.
He turned with a smile, one that had been on his face since he left the house; it was obvious, they had already talked about what to do if this situation came up. Standing with arms crossed was not an option.
Their bodies collided, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her through the air.
“What took you too long?” He said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Sorry, just a little problem.” She replied, her tone light, her smile wide, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered except this moment between them.
Her father’s angry shouts, filled with condemnation and disbelief, rang in her ears as he yelled that they were out of their minds and that nothing they were doing could be accepted. But none of it mattered anymore.
As they shared a kiss, sweet and drenched by the rain, everything else faded away.
Yes, maybe they were crazy. But it was for love.
HI SORRY i have some heavy homework because i only have one week of school left!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! fiesta fiesta y si alguien tiene ideas para el remerón AYUDA NO SÉ QUE HACER!
#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#pjo x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson x y/n#fanfic#my writing#percy jackson imagines
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The Drive-In A Five Hargreeves x Female reader insert, request
(7995 words, rated M for adult themes and explicit sexual content)
After the way it ended with season four, you couldn’t help feeling like Five had done you wrong.
But…
On a night filled with men masquerading as mythical monsters, your favorite bad boy did you right, mending both your hearts.
Side note: I received the base idea for this one from an anon request. It asked for Five at a horror movie drive-In night, with a female reader insert. That idea for them was inspired by anon being tired while watching old monster movies. The rest of this storyline is perhaps not what they had in mind, being it addresses things that some would rather forget, but overall, I think this story has a nice message that many of us Five lovers can relate to and enjoy.
Warnings and Tags: Smut, Soft Five and Dom Five, NOT a Lila and Five fic
~~~~~~The Drive-In
Convincing Five to go for a ride in his 1965 Nassau Blue Stingray wasn’t as hard as Klaus thought it would be. Then again, going for car rides as a form of entertainment was a very old person thing to do, and his brother was that guy, even if he didn’t look the part of the old fart who couldn’t take a shit without eating his daily dose of prunes.
Driving along, Klaus jabbered about anything and everything that came to mind, but Five said almost nothing in return, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his lips set in a thin line.
The sun was about to set. It was a beautiful fall evening. The warmth of summer had refused to let go. With the convertible top down, the wind ruffled his dark hair. It felt good, but Five still didn’t feel right.
All around him, life moved on, everyone obliviously living their best lives ever, but here he was, feeling out of place in all of that, just like before.
Trying not to think about his ledger full regrets, or all the idiotic things coming out of Klaus’s mouth, Five instead was doing his best to focus on the soulful sound of the ‘Queen of Jazz,’ Ella Fitzgerald as it mixed with the rumble of his Corvette’s powerful engine.
Not sharing his brother’s tastes in music, Klaus reached for the radio, but like the last four times he’d done it, he got his hand slapped away.
“Leave it, or I’m going to leave you out here in the middle of nowhere and you can walk home,” Five lowly warned.
Rubbing his hand, pretending to be hurt, Klaus laughed. “You wouldn’t do that because you love me too much. And we aren’t that far away from civilization. I’d be fine. See-” He pointed to the lights shining through the trees up ahead.
“What’s going on up therrr-”
“Quick! Turn!” Klaus excitedly shouted, grabbing the steering wheel, causing the car to swerve off the road.
Gravel flying, and tires spinning to an abrupt stop, Five slammed on the brake just before rear ending the car ahead of them. There was a line of cars, all of them waiting to get into what he now saw was the entrance to an outdoor, drive-in theater.
Angrily twisting his body around in his seat, so he was facing Klaus head-on, Five went off. “I said I would take you for a ride, not go to a movie with you!”
Klaus stuck out his bottom lip. “Awww, come on. It’s just like that time you got all jacked-up about that Big Ball of Twine. It’s you and me against the world!” “Yeah. Sure. You and me against the world.” Five threw himself back in his seat as he shifted into first, letting off the clutch to inch the car forward. “I can’t even back out of here!” he fumed while flipping off the minivan that just pulled in behind him, blocking his escape route.
“Who cares. This will be fun. And check it out! It’s an old-school monster movie double feature, and a scary costume event! Look at all these cool people!” Like he’d won the lottery, Klaus pumped his hand to the sky despite Five’s sour expression. “You need more of this kind of thing in your life, man. Spontaneous adventures are always the best.”
“Getting stuck with a bunch of juvenile dipshits that are getting drunk is exactly what I need. You’re right,” Five dryly mumbled.
Slowly rolling past the marquee, the warm lights glinted off Five’s shiny chrome side mirror. The reflection of the unhappy young man staring back at him frowned even more. All Five could think about, other than getting out of there, was how not fun all his spontaneous adventures had been.
As a headstrong, thirteen year old with something to prove, he’d run out the Umbrella Academy dinner room, abandoning his family, and everyone knew where that got him. And then, with the last big adventure that Lila convinced him to go on, he’d royally screwed himself, and her, and that was not at all something he counted as a check mark in his plus column of ‘fun times.’
That one was…
There were no words for that, other than to say, he’d really fallen off the deep end by thinking that was a viable option to end his loneliness.
The usual sickness pooling in his gut as he pushed those memories down as far as he could, Five’s shoulder rapidly jerked, the evidence of his tick impossible to hide.
“I hate you for this,” he grumbled at Klaus, but he didn’t really mean it. He really hated himself.
Thankfully that, like usual, Klaus didn’t seem to notice how miserable he was, Five followed his line of sight, taking in a very attractive female passenger that was getting out of the car ahead of him.
You were dressed in a 1950’s style, polka dot mini dress, the top a tight corset that accentuated your breasts in a way that wasn’t at all hard on the eyes. Your hair was done up in old-fashioned victory style curls, making you the quintessential damsel in distress in all the old black and white horror movies. All you needed to do to complete the look was put your hands to your face and scream in terror as the hungry zombies surrounded you.
Looking confused and a lot like you might be about to freak out like that, Five watched you come around to the trunk, escorted by a guy who was dressed in what he could only figure had to be a Swamp Thing costume.
Swamp guy popped the trunk open.
Your eyes met Five’s for a fraction of a second. Next to him, Klaus was waving at you with a big goofy grin, and the next thing you knew, you were being flipped up, ass over tea kettle, your heels dangling out of the back-end of the car as your green friend hopped inside with you, shutting the hatch.
What was going on? And why did that hot guy who was glaring at you from the driver seat of that Corvette look exactly like the fictional character Five Hargreeves from the Umbrella Academy!!! And was that Klaus?
These were your thoughts, those and-
“Get your foot out of my face,” you yelled at your friend as the car lurched forward, to which he only laughed even more because he was clearly high and smelled like it too.
“What the hell is going on?” you shouted, assuming you had to be high out of your mind too, even though you didn’t remember smoking anything.
“Shush-sshhhhh! You’re gonna get us busted,” your buddy sputtered, still giggling as your other friends talked to the cashier, buying their tickets. As the car moved forward, your trunk mate said, “It wouldn’t be a night going to the drive-in unless someone sneaks in, duh...”
“What are you twelve?” you shot back, to which you got nothing but more wafts of sweaty weed scented swamp monster costume and more foot in your face.
How in the hell did you get here, in a trunk of all places?
The last thing you remembered, you were sitting on your couch, watching TV, lounging in your grungy old pajamas that weren’t fit for going to Walmart. You definitely weren’t a kid anymore, and Five and Klaus weren’t real people, but like the rest of this, here you were, and you were sure it was them.
After bumping along in the pitch dark, the car came to a stop, the hood popping open. Crawling out, you took a deep breath, looking all around you. The lot was filled up with loads of vehicles, music playing loudly from many of them. The party had clearly begun, only you hadn’t realized you were going to it until just now.
Hazy rays from the last light of day streamed through the open field. You were near the back of the action, farthest from the big white screen looming over the field.
“Brains…yummy!”
Whirling around, a guy with a gruesome bite mark in his head came running past, chasing a trampy looking vampire with huge boobs spilling out of her Eliva costume.
Coming to a stop, he backpedaled, heading your way. The zombie’s whiteout contacts creepily moved, taking you in from head to toe. His lips pulled to the side as he nodded his approval. “Now that is the kind of sugar I could really sink my teeth into.”
“I don’t think so buddy,” you said, stepping out of his reach as you continued searching for that blue sports car and its mysterious occupants.
You didn’t have to look far, because with nowhere else to park, the Five look-alike you’d spotted at the gate had already driven past, parking in the last row, right behind you.
Fascinated, you watched the two fictional superheroes having what looked like a very characteristic, Hargreeves style argument. You weren’t sure who was winning, but slamming the door, the young man in a familiar three-piece suit got out, stormed off, hands jammed in his pockets, looking just like the grumpy old man child from your favorite show.
His dark hair hung in his eyes, his shoulders hunched in their usual way, his posture appeared to be one of deep thought and frustration as he approached the concessions.
This was all so weird.
Already horsing around, your friends paid no attention when you wandered into the crowd filled with the walking dead and other monsters that were busy acting all sorts of stupid.
Approaching your favorite fictional teleporter as he stood in line, you said nothing. You were sure this was some kind of joke, because he looked like a perfect match to the season four version of Five Hargreeves, scruffy emo hairdo and all, yet no one else around you seemed to realize they are standing next to someone significant.
He rocked back on the heels of his shiny dress shoes, his eyes scanning the little black letters on the menu board.
“Can I help you,” he asked, apparently aware you were drooling over him even though he hadn’t even turned your way.
Your face instantly flushed, and then it got even hotter when he did face you, raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
“Ah….”
“Or maybe I should arrest you and your Swamp Thing sidekick back there?” he tartly offered.
“What! Why? For what?” you stammered, getting more flustered the longer he tried to incinerate you with his pale green eyes.
“You didn’t pay to get in,” he smugly informed you, like you didn’t already know that.
Taking it one further, he flipped open his suit coat, flashing you his hoity-toity CIA badge.
Wow, he was being an arrogant ass wipe, just like you would have expected him to be.
Okay….
Two can play this game. You did have a bone to pick with him.
“Not paying to get into the drive-in movies is all a part of being young and dumb,” you countered, “but I suppose old shitheads parading around as tight assed, kid sized CIA agents, will never know what it means to let loose like that, and you don’t really want to anyway, otherwise you would have started really living your life before all hell broke loose with that Bennifer blob thing.”
Five’s jaw fish gaped, but you weren’t done with him.
“Maybe if you’d had done something fun before all that, then you wouldn’t have given up on life and then got stuck with your sister-in-law, playing lovey-dovey possessive strawberry grower with her.” Holding your ground, you put your hands on your hips while shaking your head at him. “You’d been through way worse and that shit show and not given up, and that was not a win for anyone.”
Now your face wasn’t the only one getting red. “How did you-” You rolled your eyes because he was too cute.
Suddenly, not being cute, before you could order your Milk Duds and buttered popcorn, Five latched onto your arm, spinning you around.
“Hey! Let go!” you snapped as he dragged you out of the musty cinder block concession building.
Insects buzzing as they swarmed the neon Sugar Shack sign above your heads, Five shoved you up against the side of the building, pinning you with his glare and his hands fingers rudely digging into your upper arms.
“How did you know about that?” he snarled. “Nobody knows about that! I reversed it and I nearly died doing it!”
“Well…” You glanced around. “I guess you did, and obviously found a way to save the world, but that Frankenstein guy that’s coming this way looks like he’s going to use his inhuman strength to break your face if you don’t back off, so if you want to keep living, I suggest you let go like I said.”
It dawned on him that he was drawing unwanted attention, so Five stepped back, raking his hand through his hair, making himself look even more bat shit crazy.
He was losing it, but fuck him, so were you.
You opened our mouth to answer the question of why you knew all this about him, but Five didn’t let you get it out.
“Are you with The Commission?” he growled.
His eyes darted around, stopping on a group of werewolves walking by. He looked terrified, like they were going to suddenly pull a gun on him, or even worse, pull a gigantic black briefcase out from behind their backs, then chuck him into a portal destined for a place where he’d be forced into another round of murderous servitude.
Like how you felt every time while watching Five struggling on the show, no matter how demented he was acting, all you wanted to do was lift him right out of there and save him from all of it.
“No. I am not with The Commission,” you replied, calmly as possible. “I am just a normal girl who last I knew was living in the normal real world. Now, I am not so sure what is going on.”
You held up your hands in a placating gesture, like you were trying to calm a ferocious man beast, which wasn’t too far off, except Five looked more like a miniature wolf of Wall Street who was about to bite your head off.
“See… No guns or anything else nefarious here,” you joked.
Five looked dumbstruck, so twirling around, you pulled at the billowing folds of your bouncy skirt, showing him that you didn’t even have any pockets in your old-timey, Dolores-ish, girly-girl get-up.
He didn’t look any less worried, and all of a sudden, for some reason, the thought of flashing him seemed like a brilliant idea.
You weren’t hiding anything under your skirt that was out to get him so…
Huh….
Maybe you should just slap him silly to set him straight? That sounded pretty great too.
Again, you had to wonder if you’d been drugged because this was all on par with a very Wizard of Oz kind of acid trip, your lack of undergarments included.
The warm air wafting up your skirt providing no clarity as it tickled your lady parts, holding up your arm, you pinched yourself.
“That hurt,” you noted, and that observation only made Five look even more like he was going to go nuts on you.
You scrunched your lips to the side, tapping your chin.
If Five reversed all the stuff from season 4, and then saved the world, and he clearly didn’t die…
“Hmmm,” you hummed.
There was so much potential here, and as crazy as it was, with each minute that passed, the idea of running with this fantasy you were having sounded better and better.
You smiled and said, “I know all that stuff about you because I know all about you, Five, I’m the daddy here Hargreeves. I know about your family, your powers, and Dolores…”
Your grin grew as you thought about Five feeling up the air during his romantic reunion with his mannequin turned real in season 3.
“Is this handsome young man bothering you, miss?” Klaus questioned, his voice sing-songy as he came around the corner with several of your friends. Stopping next to his brother, he raised a brow at you. “If Five is being a pest, I am happy to make him go sit in the car. He needs a timeout from time to time or the little guy gets all nippy. It’s sort of his thing, especially when he hasn’t had his nap.”
“Fuck off, Klaus,” Five hissed, still standing between you and them, not letting you get away.
“No really,” Klaus laughed, his eyes moving from his brother to you. “It’s so good to see you again. It’s been too long, and look, you finally get to meet my favorite little brother. I told you he’d be all over you the second he laid eyes on you.”
Klaus formally introduced you, but Five did not accept your extended hand.
“You know each other?” he questioned, looking at Klaus, then to you with narrowed eyes.
“Oh, yeah. We go way back.” Klaus shrugged like this was common knowledge, which it wasn’t, not to you anyway.
Pulling you by your arm, his face coming so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath flooding down your neck, Five quietly said, “He told you about me.”
It wasn’t really a question, and with the bizarre situation unfolding, you felt it best to let him think that.
“You guys want anything?” Klaus questioned, already heading around the building to join the line that was now about a mile long.
“I- I- Sure,” you answered, with Five already stomping off into the dark, leaving you not sure which one looked scarier or sadder out there lurking, him, or the rubbery looking guy dressed like the creature from the Black Lagoon.
After about an hour into the first creature feature, you were sure of two things.
One. Klaus was without a doubt the Klaus you had always loved on The Umbrella Academy. His pleather covered legs were kicked out in front of him as he sat next to you, the blanket under your butts keeping you dry from the dewy grass. He was hanging out, having a blast.
Two. Five was slumped in the driver seat of his car, with the driver’s side window rolled up and the leather rag top over his head, sitting there like he was trying to shut out the world.
He was pretending to be transfixed by the plot unfolding high up on the flickering screen, but he was failing. He still looked like he was going to postal on everyone, and you were sure that being trapped at a drive-in with a bunch of people dressed like rotting corpses wasn’t helping.
Glancing back, each time you caught him looking at you, he’d averted his eyes, looking as vexed by Nosferatu’s ugly mug as he was by your face.
Five didn’t want people to know what had really happened, and you couldn’t blame him for that. You knew his secret and you’d called him out on it, so obviously that meant you were someone he wanted to make disappear.
You really, really didn’t want to end up running through the woods with an temporal assassin coming after you with a fire ax, but every time you tried to wave him over, he wasn’t having it.
You had to fix this, even if you were hallucinating this whole thing. You may have been mad at Five, and the entire season four plot line, but it wasn’t his fault that the writer’s and Steve Blackman were short sighted idiots.
You hopped up, heading his way, your heels not functioning on the soft ground, sunk in as you walked, making you look like a clumsy moron which was not the look you were going for.
The closer you got, the dumber you felt, and the more tense Five looked.
Dropping your elbows on the threshold of the open passenger side window, to hide your embarrassment, you smiled your best flirty smile. “So… Other than yourself and other people, can you blink things from one location to another, like this car?” you questioned. “I think I heard about this super cool stapler thing you did once, but I didn’t really understand how you did that. Will you show me?”
Five merely looked at you, stone faced, jaw hard, not taking the bait.
“I am going with you not being able to blink things that big,” you answered for him. “Otherwise, you would have been long gone by now.”
He still refused to speak to you.
“This really is a nice car. I wouldn’t abandon it either,” you furthered while handing him a giant-sized Fudge Nutter.
After a few seconds, he took it. His fingers twiddled the unopened candy bar, his was still suspicion plain as day in his stormy eyes, only not quite as tempestuous as it was before. “I never told Klaus about the subway…and he shouldn’t remember what happened with any of that anyway because I reversed the timeline and changed all this bullshit. It never happened.”
You opened the door and sat down next to him.
“I did not say you could join me,” he huffed, getting even more adorably pissed.
“Relax. Klaus doesn’t remember telling me that stuff because he was drunk when he told me about it. And the reason you don’t remember telling him about that mess is because you were drunk when you told him,” you lied.
Five sucked in his lower lip, clearly thinking about that, and the fact that it was highly plausible he’d drunkenly spilled his guts since he wasn’t the best at holding his liquor.
“So…” you continued. “Consider it a closed loop of things nobody wants to think or talk about, including me. I just unleashed on you out there about it because you were being such an asshole. Believe it or not, I still think you are amazing.”
Five looked down at his hands, a small smile tugging his mouth to the side. “I was just moving through life, going through the motions that normal people are supposed to do. I had a chance to start fresh and I blew. You were right about that, and me being an asshole.”
Not sure what to say back to that, a silence resumed, other than the screeches of the vampires’ victims quietly filling his classic car’s small speakers.
Five cleared his throat as he looked over at you again. “Why are you here? Aside from what you said about thinking I am amazing, I mean.”
He grinned, his dimple coming out to render you as speechless.
The longer Five had to wait for you to answer, the cockier he looked, and the more you wanted to jump his bones, or maybe smack him. At that point, you still weren’t sure which would better.
“I don’t belong here. I think you can see that, but…” You stopped. There was no way you could tell him that his world was based on a comic book because at this point you had no fucking clue if that was true or not. “But…I am here whether it makes sense or not, and you know what?”
“What?”
“I think it’s for a reason, and that’s because I wanted to be here with you.”
“Why?” he pushed.
“Because. It makes me happy to see you finally get the car that you always wanted. I want to see you have good things in your life, Five.”
He said nothing.
“Are you happy?” you questioned.
He gave you a blank look. “Sure. I am happy when you look at happiness relative to the years of me sleeping on the ground, eating bugs, constantly fighting for my life and everyone else's, everyday living in a nightmare.”
His chin dropped as he shook his head.
“My life is, and I fear always will be, pretty fucked up,” he said, followed by a self-depreciating laugh.
You moved over just a little closer, your hand gingerly touching his, and to your surprise, Five took it, his fingers tangling with yours in a way that showed how desperate he was.
You didn't say a word, but you did scooch closer, and immediately Five opened himself to your advance, pulling you against him in an embrace that you were not at all expecting.
He breathed in the smell of your hair, then pulled back again. His face melting into a soft smile, but then just as fast, his face contorted, his brows furrowing as he shut his eyes as if in pain.
“I am sick of all the death and the killing and the pain. I don’t want to be a part of that, I never did. I didn’t want any of this to happen.”
His fingers balled up in his palm, but you refused to let go of the hand.
“Five, look at me.”
Opening his eyes, he whispered, “I did so much of this to myself and to so many others. All I do is hurt people.”
“That is not true. You are not a bad person. You did what you had to, and you've never been wrong for feeling the way you have about any of it. Don’t let yourself think any differently. That’s how you got into this mess. You may have reached for love in the wrong place, and that got burned, but this isn’t over. The Five Hargreeves I know never gives up.”
“I don’t know how to move on.”
You brought his hand to your mouth, running your lips across his knuckles, then flipping it over, you kissed the inside of his wrist, lingering where his umbrella tattoo had been.
His voice cracked. “I can’t forget. I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“Maybe not, but you can start over, and replace all the bad with something good,” you assured, your words warm against his skin, each pass of your lips, accepting all of him, the good and the bad.
He looked so broken, but maybe this was just what he needed.
Shifting in your seat, you pressed your mouth to his, and it was as if in that one gentle brush of your lips on his, time stood still.
You could have stayed like that next to Five forever, just softly kissing him, playing with the fluffy ends of his hair, letting him take all the time he needed to come out of the hate filled place he was in, but after a while, he began to pull his arm out from behind you, but it was only so he could shift your body over onto his lap.
It was as if he held some kind of otherworldly power over you. Before you knew it, your legs were straddling him, your back against his steering wheel.
Looking into his eyes when he breathlessly broke your kiss, there was no way you could deny him, especially with that crease of concern finding its way back, marking his face with worry. Wanting to erase it and all the things haunting him, you started massaging the deep knots of tension out of his shoulders.
You pressed a kiss to his slightly parted lips even before he could breathe his first sigh of relief. Tongue swirling around with his, your hands moved down his chest, lightly exploring the dips and curves hiding under all his layers of clothing.
Feeling him tensing again, you brought your hand up to his cheek. Surprising you again, Five submissively tipped his face into your palm, closing his eyes, surrendering as you delicately ran your lips across his troubled brow.
“Just let it all go, Five,” you soothed. “It’s time to be young and stupid for once.”
He started laughing. His chest lifted and fell with a few shaky breaths, then he slowly sighed. Silently appreciating what you were doing, he rolled his head back into his seat.
Looking very relaxed, he cracked open one eye. He smiled that unbelievably handsome smile. Unable to help it, you traced a line along the narrow bridge of his nose, pulling your finger away just as he tried to take a bite out of it.
“Klaus was right.” Looking like he was about to devour you, Five smirked. “I do get nippy when I don’t get my nap. Sorry.”
Those compassionate eyes that could convey so much sorrow looked so full of hope as his gaze flicked down so he could check out how high your skirt had ridden up on your thighs.
Wanting to get him really riled up, you brought your hands back to his chest, unbuttoning first his vest, and then dress shirt. Once you had them opened, and his tie flung back over his head, you moved your palms over his hot skin, heading down, gingerly teasing the bunched-up fabric covering his crotch.
Five let out a long, slow breath, his eyelids slowly drooping closed as he smiled.
“I guess daddy likes that,” you taunted, touching him softly, your hand running back and forth.
He started laughing “You did not just say that while playing with my dick?”
“Yes. Yes, I did,” you laughed back, “and you know you liked it.”
Getting more into it, Five started rutted himself upwards.
He looked so beautiful getting hard in your hand, his words throaty and desperate. “Please don’t stop.”
With a quick glance, you confirmed the cars parked next to you were still empty.
You lowered yourself as much as you could, pressing kisses to his neck, then his shoulder as your hand kept at it, bringing him to his full potential.
The hand Five originally had held against the small of your back started sliding up, his fingers digging at the clasps holding up your top. He couldn't figure it out, and really, it was probably better that he didn’t. Giving up, he captured your lips again and his kisses that started painfully sweet, quickly intensified as he drifted his hands down, latching them on your ass. His long, strong fingers cupped you, pulling your groin up against the erection trying to rip through his pants.
Pulling your lower lip between his, Five moaned like you were killing him, then he let go. “I think I just died and went to heaven because you aren’t wearing any panties,” he humorously declared.
That got you laughing again, and him covering your neck with nuzzled kisses. Locking a hand in your hair, he started assertively thrusting himself between your legs.
It wasn’t fair to let him do all the work, so you responded by eagerly working your hips, round and round, giving him the lap dance he was evidently craving.
“I am so lucky you don’t care how fucked up I am,” he groaned.
He bent in placing a path of kisses along your jaw while giving your hair another firm tug that had your head automatically dropping back.
Having full access to the side of your neck, Five took advantage, tearing into you like the vampire on screen, only with bites meant to mark you, not maim you.
All you could do was moan as he went wild, but in a brief moment where your brain kicked back on, you managed to reach down, reclining the seat. Then you pushed Five down, doing some of your own marking when your fingernails slid across his chest, leaving red lines across his pale skin.
Having fallen back against the newly adjusted seat, Five’s eyes closed, and his head rolled to the side. He rocked his hips faster, his hands forcing your body to move with his. “I am going to destroy you,” he panted.
When your tongue glided across his pecks, stopping to make a quick flick to one of his little nubs of flesh, he let out a hissing sound, his body involuntarily arching off his seat as his eyes flew open.
Not at all done fucking with him, you slid down, your butt ramming his steering wheel as you hand moved to his pants, unzipping him.
Five’s cock twitched as your fingers wrapped around its girth. When the weakest sound crept out of his throat, you get even wetter.
He exhaled with what looked like a painstaking effort as you started stroking him. “Fuck, yes.” He moved his hand over yours, tightening it over your fingers.
There wasn’t a hint of modesty in Five’s exquisitely lustful expression as he writhed under you, and that only made him, and you helping him jerk off all the hotter.
He moved your hand up and down in sweeping motions, but not long after he started doing it, his fingers began crushing yours, urging you to grasp him much firmer than you would have without his assistance.
The way he was going at it, it was like he wanted it to hurt. He moved your hands in sharp, vicious jerks.
He bit back an angry verbalization of unintelligible profanity, his shaft sliding faster as precum seeped out of him, spreading along his length.
You thought he was looking for a quick release, but then, he stilled your hand. His hand trembled against yours as he peered up at you. “You really want this? With Me?”
“Yes.” You’d never been so sure of anything in your life.
His breathing changed, slowing down again, but only until you dared to tease the swollen head of his cock with your thumb, swirling it around and around. To that, Five let out a breathless chuckle, arching his back as he bucked his hips.
He only let you get away with that teasing for about two seconds before he brought his hands under your bottom, urging you to rub your slippery heat against his hard length, helping you both get off.
“Oh, fuck this feels so good,” he groaned as he moved you back, urging you to raise up on your knees so he could move his hand between your legs.
Flipping your skirt out of the way, his fingers played along the invisible line where your underwear should have been, but he stopped there. “Can I?” he asked.
Nodding your consent, you said, “Five, you can do me any way you want.”
Hearing that, something in him seemed to come undone.
He started determinedly rubbing your folds, mesmerized by the glistening of your desire as it coated his fingers. He was enjoying doing that to you so much, more precum seeped from him onto his torso. Slowly and gently, he used his thumb in a circular motion, stimulating your clit while he carefully eased his index finger inside you.
“God damn, you are so tight,” he panted.
With the sexiest look of distress on his face, Five reached into his pants pocket, fishing out first his wallet, then a condom. He feverishly ripped open the small square package with his bared teeth while pulling his fingers from inside you at the same time so he could grip his cock in hand and roll the rubber down over his shaft.
Even doing that had him cursing and the look of madness in his eyes had you quivering in anticipation.
“You need to lead this,” he warned.
He lined himself up and you began to lower your body over him, but as his swollen glans pushed up into you, your body reactively tightened against him, your own excitement working to deny itself. The size and fit issue you were having, and the look on your face about it, earned another breathy hiss from him.
Taking his hands off you completely, Five grasped at his seat, trying his best to remain still and let you take him at your pace.
Balancing yourself with your palm pressed against the window, you resolutely held his cock in your other hand, lowering yourself onto him again.
Again, your body fought it. Your teeth studded into your bottom lip. With small movements, your hand noisily squeaking down the steamy glass, you were eventually able to sink all the way down, and the success of that was met with your both letting out obscene sounds of relief.
Your eyes crashed shut from the overwhelming sensation of taking in all of him. And it only got better when his hands claimed your breasts and he simultaneously dug his heels into the floor and lifted his hips.
You cried out as Five bottomed out. Pleasure and pain ripped through you, your entire body tightening around him.
You clutched his shoulders, your fingernails clawing into his tensed bands of muscle.
“Feels so-fffuck. Thank you for ffuck,” Five brainlessly panted.
You cried out again when, undaunted by your crushed expression or his inability to speak, he grasped your hips and coaxed you to move up and down, meeting you halfway. His needy thrusts were coming at you vigorously, the strength behind them like it was out of his control.
Your delirious cries as Five fucked himself up into you were beyond your ability to contain. You were unable to do anything other than paw at him as his feet slipped and dug against his floor, desperately searching for more leverage to grind his cock deeper than it already was.
Just when you were sort of getting used to this, Five changed pace and began rolling his hips as best he could while his butt was squashed down in the crook of his seat. The rhythm suited him, his body looking so fucking hot underneath you that only further blew your mind.
His rock-hard dick was stretching you to the point you couldn’t see straight. You were so wet from feeling every inch of him prodding and pulling at your insides, your whimpers were quickly becoming broken moans.
Holding you from going down on him all the way, the sensation of his delicious tip shallowly moving in and out just right, he smiled deviously. “You are mine from here on out. No matter what. Tell me you want that as much as I do.”
“I want this,” you repeated, bouncing on his dick to pull yourself over the edge.
Your world was suddenly getting very small. There was nothing but that sweet tension of him filling in, that delicious coil inside you unraveling, and the simple pleasure of him giving himself to you.
When you least expected it, that was when Five gave your ass a stinging slap, then he moved his hand back into play, circling the tips of his fingers against your clit, extra hard.
“Hey, Five?” Klaus said as he came up to the passenger side of the car.
“Get out of here!” Five yelled.
“Whoospsie. Sorry, guys.” Laughing, Klaus did an about face, but you could still here him talking. “Nothing to see here people, just move along…yeah, the view is much better over there, and the weed is too.”
“Shhhh- Shhh-it,” you sputtered.
You were on fire, your thighs burning. Everything was coming to a head. Fighting to keep your eyes open, you started to shudder. Five started thrusting deeply again, forcing the breath out of you as his feet kicked down on the floor and his knees repeatedly slammed up against the steering wheel.
Pieces of his gorgeously wild hair fell into his eyes as he lay there with a fucked out smile, his forehead a sheen of shimmery sweat. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock,” he encouraged, giving you the ride of your life.
Unable to stay upright, your body toppled over the edge and tumbled down against him, your forehead falling against his shoulder. “Fivvvv- gah..ah, ah-” Orgasm slamming into you, you couldn’t move your hips anymore, let alone talk, but that didn’t stop Five.
Puffing air through clenched teeth, he kept pumping his cock up into you, so you could get the benefit of each and every wave of your shattering release.
“Mmmmfff, Fiiii-vvve, fffuc—uck,” you cried as his fingers dug into your waist, forcing you up and down, even after you’d gone limp as a rag doll flopped on top of him.
“I need to move,” he suddenly gasped.
You didn’t get it. He was moving.
Before you could associate the feeling of static building with his power coming to life, the humid air around you lit up the darkened car and everything around it. There was a sizzling, then a sharp loud crack, like the sound of him slapping your ass. A second later, only after Five did actually slap your ass again, carrying you in his arms, he set you down, sitting your bottom on the trunk of his car.
Your high heels fell off, hitting the ground next to his feet. Legs dangling around his hips, he nestled deep between your legs, his shirt wide open and his pants slipping down to his knees.
In a dazed state of post orgasmic bliss, his dick still in you, your was head spinning.
There were woods on both sides of you, and you appeared to be parked in the middle of a road. There were the faintest sounds of people in the distance. You could be near the drive-in still, but then again, maybe not.
“Where are we,” you asked, frantically looking all around. It was so dark, you could hardly see anything.
“Don’t worry, you're safe,” Five replied in a way of explanation while smiling so boyishly innocently. “And to answer your question about me blinking larger things than myself. Size wise, my dick is pretty awesome, and it’s no simple task lugging it around through time and space, but you wanted to see what I could really do, so I decided to go full delivery boy for you. Took me over 69 years, but I have it all figured out now.”
“Oh, my God, I think I love you,” you laughed.
“I think I could love you too,” Five concurred, bending in, his next words coming out with each gentle thrust that matched the cadence in-between his equally soft kisses. “Everyday. Just. Like. This.”
His hands moved up your back, the tickle of his fingers making you shiver. The bottoms of your bare feet pressing down on the car’s bumper, his mouth found its way to your collar bone where he started methodically moving his lip along the crest of it, licking and nipping as he undid the clasps on your shirt, this time getting it on his first try.
The cotton bodice slipped off your arms and he stopped everything so he could admire you. “So beautiful,” he said, then forcefully slid your bottom across the trunk until he was buried full deep, pressing you to his chest.
Clinging to his shoulders, you whimpered.
“Laydown,” Five breathed. “I want to see all of you.”
With the firm direction of his hands pressing you down, you did as he wanted, easing back against the trunk.
Taking you under the knees, flipping your skirt up and your legs over his arms, Five pulled your hips out away from the car, giving himself more command over your body.
Almost right way, his eyes rolled back in his head as began to fuck you, pulling himself all the way out before slamming back in. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he groaned, fighting to see straight.
His feet dug into the gravel under his shoes, his hands yanking your ass towards him as he drove himself faster, his pelvis smacking into you with the sound of hot and sweaty flesh on flesh. The faster he snapped his hips, the more you felt like you were falling even though you weren't. Your hands scrambled for purchase, looking for anything to hold onto on the slippery trunk, but all you found as you grasped was slick blue paint.
“I fucking love fucking you,” Five grunted, fucking you faster and faster.
Again, your body was on the verge of pain and pleasure from how aggressively he was going at it, but as he lost himself, the rope inside you slipped out of your hold, the freefall pushing you to climax again.
You slipped forward, sure the rest of your body was going to slip off the trunk and hit the ground, but Five didn’t let up.
“Five! My-yyah-hahh, Fiv-ffff-help-ffffuck!”
His hips rapidly thwacked, his breathy grunts coming faster.
“I-I’ve got you,” he sputtered, his body fighting to keep moving, his eyes fighting to stay open.
He was shaking in a violent stream of tremors, and even with the condom on, you could feel his release throbbing spurts of his seed deep inside you.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuccck!” he gasped as his hips moved. His chest heaved with every intake of breath, pained sounds clawing out of him when he exhaled.
His movements started to lack any pattern, and a profound and satisfied form of relaxation washed over you as he slowed. He dreamily gazed down at you like he was going to pass out.
Looking like he had hardly the energy to do it, balancing your one leg hooked around his arm, Five took himself in hand, gently as possible pulling out of you.
“Oh my God,” you gasped, as your body spasmed a few more times.
Moving along, Five flung off the heavy rubber he’d filled, tossing it in the ditch, then he readjusted your boneless body, pulling you up next to him so he could kiss you, over and over, whispering unbelievably sweet words and not all of them in English.
With a fraction of space between your lips, he said your name. “...., Thanks to you, I think I finally learned my lesson. It’s time to start living life on my own terms.”
His lips curled in a very curious way that immediately had you wondering what he could be up to now.
Lifting you, he shuffled back at step, trying not to trip on his pants. Reaching out, you heard the sound of his trunk popping open, then he dumped you inside.
Stunned, you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Wha-”
“Ah-Ah-Ah, sweetheart,” he menacingly sang while twirling the shoulder strap of your top around his finger. “I’m not letting you get away. You're mine now, remember.”
The darkness started closing in around you. “Five!” you screeched.
“I'm just kidding.” He chuckled at you. “They call me a psycho for good reason, but I am not the put you in my trunk kind of psycho,” he teased, while pulling you back to him. Just as he was about to kiss you, you started to fall.
Your ass hit the floor in front of your couch.
Rapidly blinking, your hair tangled in front of your face, you looked over at your TV.
H. J. Well’s ‘The invisible Man’ was playing. The doctor who went mad with power, turned villain on a murder spree, was standing there in his black suit with his silly white bandages wrapped around his face. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could sense his empty eyes staring back at the blonde beauty next to him. All he longed for was to go back to before he’d ruined everything. All he wanted was to be loved.
Your chest started shaking with your laughter and your eyes misted over.
Five was gone.
It was all a dream, a very real and very wet dream based on the feel of your underwear.
Five was never there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel him. He was real in your mind, and just like he’d said, no matter what, he was yours. His story was whatever you wanted it to be, and nobody, not even a botched season finale would make you stop loving him.
With you, he could live on forever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Thank you for all the nice requests, guys. I can't do them all, but I do my best with the ones I take on. I hope you liked this one and the idea in it can help heal your own s4 broken hearts. I know that it helps me to rewrite Five's story, time and time again.
And yes. I totally have snuck into a drive-in in the trunk of a car with my friend's foot in my face, and I have done all sorts of inappropriate things in cars while I was supposed to be watching the big screen. Being young and dumb is wonderful, and everyone needs at least a few adventures that don't end with the world ceasing to exist. Just don't get caught. 😜
Cheers lovelies. ❤️ Till next time.
Link to view all my Tumblr story and art posts
Link to my Five centric master list
Link to visit me direct on A03
#number five smut#number five x you#number five fanfiction#soft number five#number five#five hargreeves#number five hargreeves#number five fanfic#number five x reader#five x reader#five x you#number five imagine#number 5#tua number 5#tua fanfiction#tua fandom#five hargreeves imagine#kaybreezy-on-a03#anon request
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Are your requests open? Could I ask for Optimus dating a human for the first time? SFW and/or N$FW is ok ♥️
Since you didn't specify, I'm going for a vaguely G1/Prime vibe. Forgive errors, i typed this on my phone since I'm visiting fam for holidays.
He was pretty slick about it, asking you to accompany him on a scouting mission. Prime doesn't scout. But all you thought was how nice it would be to spend some time with the big boss himself. After all, you both had confessed attraction to each other. With him admitting an odd interest in you, and you letting it slip he was rather nice to look at. Even if nothing came out of it, it was nice to clear the air. And the fact he didn't avoid you after meant more than you could say. He was still nice to look at.
The sound of his engine and the radio mixed with your humming. You didn't know the lyrics, but the tune was close enough. Sitting in the passenger seat while his holoform occupied the driver's. It still felt odd to talk to it... him, through it, so you stared out the window when you did.
"What are we on the lookout for?" You ask, glancing at mountains in the distance. He was quiet. Longer than any leader-like contemplation you were used to. "Prime?"
His voice interrupts the music, "I have not been entirely honest with you y/n." He sounds remorseful, and you feel a clench in your heart, "we are not here to scout, nor are we here for any sort of mission."
You fidget with the edge of the seat. What could have Prime lying and feeling so bad about it?
"After our conversation the other day, i did some thinking-"
Oh shit. Did you make him uncomfortable?
"-I believe it best to-"
"Prime, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward. It just slipped out." You interrupt, trying to smooth over whatever wrinkles you caused.
"Please allow me to finish." He says with that stern but patient tone. The engine shifts, and he pulls onto a side road, "I wish to apologize for not acting sooner, I simply wished to ensure I moved forward properly. I believe the next step on earth is a date to explore our mutual interests?"
A what?
He continued talking about the research he did and how it was similar to cybertronian customs, but it seemed to move faster in comparison. You listened, still processing what this meant.
"Wait... so..." You put a hand to your face as you focus, "this isn't a scouting mission. It's a date?"
"Correct." Prime affirms He turns off again to another side road. This one flanked by trees that get more and more dense, "I apologize for the deception, and for the lack of activity. It's hard to find such things to accommodate our coupling."
His choice of the word coupling made you chuckle, and cheeks go warm, "N-no Prime this... is pretty clever, actually." Glancing at the driver seat, you make a face, "but for the love of god, please get rid of that thing."
You can feel the rumble of laughter in his engine before it flickers and dissipates.
Prime is the kind of bot to really want to get to know you. And you love the idea of one on one time with him. A long drive in solitude is the best way to get to know each other. Open up about some things. Share hopes and what you would want from such a strange relationship.
The nerves subsided quickly. It felt natural. it felt good to talk to him. It felt like he listened and was honest when he spoke.
He stops for you to grab some food, seeing as you both got lost in the conversation and were out far longer than expected. Optimus apologized for not thinking of that even after all the research.
You lean against the window, smiling at the stars. He's telling you a story about how he once woke from recharge to find energon stacked in front of his door. The deep voice lulling you to sleep. It felt appropriate for him to take the long way back.
N$fw vauge at most.
Perhaps this date turned into another. And another. A date here and there. He thought it cute when you kissed his dash before getting out of the cab. NO, you absolutely would not kiss the holoform, but caved when he would use it to hold your hand as you got out of the cab. Only on the cheek, of course.
You would call Prime a gentleman, but there was no missing the way his engine sounds like it stalls when you sit in the passenger seat; asking if this date was when you should invite him inside. His voice sputters about more research and compatibility.
"Shame, you don't have a bed in the back prime." You say while one hand runs down your body, "could really put it to use now."
You notice the way he speeds up as you continue touching yourself, engine thundering down the road. Hopefully, there aren't any state troopers.
There is a shyness to your actions, hoping he doesn't dislike this. Not to mention how odd it is to perform with no audience. Not that you want the holoform now. It would kill the mood more than anything. He can sense your body heating up, and each time you trip over your words, trying to be sexy, his engine purrs. Slowly unbuttoning your top has him wishing he could transform and feel you with more than the sensors in his cab.
"You're beautiful." He says as you shimmy out of your pants. The human form was alien , yet familiar. Soft forms on a Cybertronian like frame. "Beautiful..." he says as you part your thighs and lips. "Beautiful." He whispers when you bring yourself to the edge. That deep voice confessed how he had thought about this. How you would look. What he wants to try. Promising it to be his hand, somehow, to bring you here next time.
But first he needs to look into a new altform. Somthing with a bed in the back.
#transformers x human#transformers x reader#optimus prime#optimus prime x reader#optimus prime x human
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“ just hold my hand. ”
pairing : tasm!peterparker x f!reader
summary : f!reader suddenly is rescued by tasm!peterparker while getting mugged, the rescue leads to other small feelings to start to grow
warnings : pet names, cursing, bad writing, horribly proofread, plot probably makes no sense at all, bad grammar ermmm
wc : 716
A/N : ermmm first fic so if it sucks that’s why guys😔 probably not gonna make this one a series and this will most likely by my first and last fic lol💜
you had no idea how you ended up on top of a building. one minute you were being mugged, and another you were in spider-man’s arms in mid air. “holy fuck! let me down!!” you squeal, shutting your eyes tightly and trying not to burst out into tears of pure terror. “calm down, doll. just trying to get you to a safe place.” spider-man spoke, you find yourself feeling comforted by his warm, honey-like voice, it sounding all too familiar to you.
you watch as the boy in the red and blue suit swings you both, stopping on top of an apartment building rooftop. he releases you from his securing grip, and you stumble forward slightly due to the almost whiplash-like change of practically flying and being reminded of gravity.
“easy there, doll.” he advised, his tone laced with a slight hint of teasing. setting a hand on the small of your back to ensure your safety.
“i think i just saw the light.” you mumble, hand moving over your heart to try and regulate your heartbeat. you walk towards the middle of the rooftop, avoiding the ledge at all costs. you never acknowledged just how bad you’re fear of heights was until now. “great timing y/n” you think to yourself, turning around to see spider-man, who’s practically jumping off the roof, “aren’t you scared to fall?” you ask, not realizing how dumb that question sounds until after you said it. of course he isn’t scared to fall, he’s spider-man.
the boy laughs, you take a mental note to somehow find a way to hear that sweet sound again. “no doll, i’m not scared to fall. in fact, i fall on purpose, that’s kind of my job.” he remarks, making his was over to where you stand, arms crossed.
“soo, you gonna tell me where you live so i can take you back?” spider-man inquires, not so much asking, more so to remind you.
“oh yeah, uhm, i live on 51st street,” you almost blurt out, the reality and realization of you almost being attacked just minutes ago staring to set in.
“you doin’ alright sweetheart?” he asks, noticing your sudden detach from the conversation. as he waits for you to answer, he makes a mental map of the route to your home.
“yeah, yeah, i’m fine. just a little in shock i guess..” you reply, running your hands through your hair, wishing you were in bed, and that this was all really really weird dream.
“okay, just checking doll.” he comments, the pet name feeling natural to him.
a few minutes pass and you’ve been stalling getting down from the rooftop, knowing you have to go through what you did roughly ten minutes ago.
“alright, let’s get you home.” spider-man spoke, reaching a hand out for you, “i know you’re stalling. just hold my hand, it won’t be that bad sweetheart. you ready?”
you take his hand in yours holding onto him tightly as you brace yourself for the drop. “yeah, as i’ll ever be i guess..”
spider-man hears your words of consent and swiftly shoots out a web to cling to the side of a nearby skyscraper, you tighten your grip on the boy and biting your lip to suppress a scream as you both glide through the night.
you two soon reach your house, you catch your breath as he walks you to the gate. “hey spider-man, i never got to say thank you,” i realize, turning my head slightly to the side to look at him.
“your welcome doll, just try not to walk alone at night, some people are creeps.” he cautions, looking you over carefully to see if you are injured.
“i’ll try not to..” you say, a soft smile appearing on your lips. “bye spider-man, see you around.” you state, turning to open the door to your house.
“yeah, you can count on that sweetheart.” he quips, a smirk on his face under the mask, he waits for you to close and lock the door behind you before he sets off to finish his nightly patrol. “she’s somethin’..” spider-man thinks to himself, knowing he’s most definitely going to check in on you throughout the week. to make sure you’re safe, and to be able to talk to you more.
#aesthetic#spilled ink#fantasy#spiderman#the amazing spider man#andrew garfield#tasm peter parker#emmasloves#emsbowx#peter parker#peter parker x reader#tasm x reader
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The Survivors, part 5
(the last batch)
☢️Erwin Pries (by @frauhupfner )
Erwin knows what nobody else seems to - that it wasn't a government experiment gone wrong or an enemy bomb which destroyed that secret lab and unleashed the zombie virus - it was the ALIENS! That's right - wake up, people!
Erwin may look and sound like a kook, but his ideas are surprisingly persuasive - or maybe people are just desperate for an explanation.
☢️Todd Estrella (Sim & bio by @moyokeansimblr)
Todd is rather arrogant but he's a sweetheart deep down. He's not malicious, just big headed and bad at reading social cues to know when he's out of line. He thinks he's tough, so expect him to go into this experience EXTREMELY over-confident before realizing he knows nothing about simanity, let alone apocalyptic simanity. IE volunteering to do things he can't, being places he shouldn't. But he's an excellent hype man. I imagine this experience to be very humbling for him and bring him closer to simkind.
Todd's sexuality should the opportunity present itself, is everybody. But he does have a preference for whatever big strong man is actually the one in charge of everything.
Todd is afraid of everything but masks it with curiosity. His biggest fear is the dark and his bedroom in the UFO he arrived in had six nightlights but don't tell anyone that.
Todd thinks that because he's an alien he's immune to sim germs and grime. But he very much is not.
☢️Hernesto & Nicolas Esposito (Sims & bios by @gvaudoiin-tricou )
Hernesto was one of the scientists in charge of a failed experiment that cost him an eye. When he found Nicolas, he knew the boy was special, but what truly caught his attention was his bright red eyes...and not the fact that the boy was covered in blood, surrounded by corpses. In that moment, he knew neither of them would be alone anymore.
Nicolas never knew who his parents were, or at least doesn't remember their faces. When people started killing each other and resources became scarce everywhere, Nicolas was just a kid hiding in an alley among corpses. Maybe he killed them, maybe he didn't...he doesn't remember either way.
☢️Anne Cleves (by @clouseplayssims)
Anne was a rich, sheltered girl whose family wanted her to marry a much older, several-times divorced man for money.
If not for society collapsing, Anne would probably have gone along with it like a good, dutiful daughter, but now she doesn't have to. If anything good could be said to have come out of the disaster, it is her freedom. Anne would rather take her chances with the zombies, honestly.
(This is my take on a post-apocalyptic Anne of Cleves, lol)
☢️Almalexia Goth (Sim & concept by @veronadragon)
They were the fruit of an affair between a rich Pleasantview socialite and a local man, and as a result she has grown up with many complicated feelings regarding their family.
On the one hand, they are away from all of that now - on the other, ruins are awfully cold and uncomfortable to sleep in compared to the cushy Goth manor, to say nothing of rampaging zombies...
☣️Hoppie AKA Patient Zero (by @andrevasims )☣️
When Hoppie drifted into Fallow Shores, she wasn't feeling very well, so she steered clear of the other survivors.
She'd seen what happened to the others!
That was not going to happen to her - she just needed to sleep, she'd feel better in the morning...
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Hiii! For your sentence starters can you do ler!Sanemi and lee!Muichiro where like yk how Muichiro was training with both Sanemi and Obanai so Sanemi decides to take him down with tickles! And Muichiro thinks it's silly and he tries to complain saying that he's a hashira too, but whenever he tries to say "hashira" Sanemi goes for a death spot making the word dissolve in giggles. Maybe have a hint of teasing Obanai too?
So the sentence started will be smth like "Stohop ihihit! I'm a ha-HAHahaHAhaha! Hehehey!"
{Puffs are now CLOSED!}
*happy clapping noises* I LOVE!!! I love love LOVE! :D Friend, I've gotcha covered! :3
“Get him.” Muichiro didn’t have a second to react.
“Wait- wait what-AH” He squeaked when he was suddenly ambushed, Obanai and Sanemi tackling him to the ground. “W-what happened to training together?”
“This is training!” Sanemi hands grabbed onto Muichiro’s ribs, earning a surprised squeak. “You’re a kid though. We have to go easier on you!”
“Whahhahat? Stahhhap it! I’m a hahahah-AHAHhahahahhaha!” Any complaints he was going to make were cut off by Obanai adding to the fray, grabbing his knees and squeezing. “Nohohohoho, nhohohohot thehehehehere!”
“What? I can’t hear you.” Obanai called back, smiling under his mask. “You’re a what now?”
“I think he said he’s a haaa-pfft-aAA?” Sanemi tried to mimic the sound, giggling halfway through. “What was it again, bud?”
“Ehehehek! I sahhahid I’m a hahhaah-AHAHAH!” Once again at his attempt to say “Hashira”, Sanemi and Obanai attacked a particularly bad spot. “Yoohooohu’re dohohohoing thahahhat on puhuhuhurpohoohhoose!”
“Doing what? We’re just training. Aren’t we, Iguro?”
“Why yes, Shinazugawa. This is appropriate training for someone like Tokito.” Obanai nodded, wiggling his fingers beneath Muichiro’s knees. “He has far too much to learn still before he can train the way we do.
“Agreed. Very wise reasoning.”
“Yoohohohu twhoohoho are fuhuhuhuhll of ihihihihit! Ahehahahhaha, I’m nohohohoht sohohohome wehehehahak khihihiihd! I’m a hahah-AHHAHEHEHA!” Muichiro let out a shriek when Sanemi shoved a hand under his back, clawing at his back. “Nohohohoohoohoh, dohohohon’t!”
“Oo, I found a bad spot!” Sanemi snorted as he flipped the younger boy over, focusing all his efforts into the sensitive spots against his lower back. “Come on then- show us how strong you really are! Fight back!”
“Aheahahhahaha! Gehhahahhahaha! Nohohohoho, thahhaht’s nohohohot fhahahahhair!” Muichiro flopped like a fish against the ground, kicking his feet helplessly as his back and knees were ruthlessly attacked. “Dohoohohn’t trehehahaht me lihihike a kihiihihd!”
“Hm. Shinazugawa. Your thoughts on that?” Obanai asked, pausing his tickles alongside his friend.
“Hmm…yeah, I guess we can do that.” Sanemi gave Muichiro one last tickle before ruffling his hair. “Ready to train for real, Tokito?”
“Eheh..ehehehe..yeahha..yeah. I’m so gonna get you back!” Muichiro shot up like a rocket, tackling Sanemi to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the cycle repeated itself. “Take this!”
“GAH! Aheahhahahaha! Iihihiguruo hehehehelp!” Sanemi pleaded, flailing an arm for assistance.
“.....Nah.” Obanai sat back on the stairs, snickering at the noise of betrayal Sanemi made. “Get him good, Tokito. It was his idea, by the way.”
“I’ihihihihll gehhehet yooohohou bahahhack!”
“Sure you will.”
#Puffs#sentence starters#tickle#tickle dabble#demon slayer#muichiro tokito#sanemi shinazugawa#obanai iguro#I love them your honor
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Billy and Freddy along with Mary watches gacha reaction videos (if you don't know what that is your missing out). But they can only do it in the watch tower and stuff due to the lack of technology in Fawcett. This ideas been going around in my head for a while and I KNOW Freddy would love it.
Hal was having a normal day. The sun was shining, the Earth looked beautiful from the Watchtower. He wanted to go watch the game on one of the Watchtower’s gigantic and beautiful TVs.
GL: *on his merry way to one of the rec rooms, whistling a little tune*
Marvel and Junior: *occasional gasps*
GL: *thinking they’re watching a horror movie and decides he’ll just watch it with them until it’s over* “Hey guys-”
Marvel and Junior: *sitting right in front of the screen, staring like iPad babies and watching a Rivals react to Ayano Aishi vid*
GL: *stares for like a solid second* “What- What the fuck are y’all doing?”
Marvel: *pauses it* “Huh?” *looks back to Hal*
GL: “Why are you guys watching this baby content?”
Junior: *sounds offended* “It’s not baby stuff.”
GL: “Uh yeah. It is.”
Marvel: “No, it isn’t. Stop being a hater.”
GL: “Marvel, you’re a grown ass man. And Junior? You’re at least 14. Why are you watching this??”
Junior: “It’s entertaining.”
GL: “Entertaining. Really?”
Marvel: “Yeah! Come on.” *pats a spot next to him* “Watch it with us.”
GL: “Dude, no.”
Marvel and Junior: *share a look* “Watch it. Watch it. Watch it.” *chanting*
Hal eventually caved.
That’s how he found himself sitting on the floor with them, and watching a surprisingly entertaining “mha reacts to deku as kokichi video”. A couple minutes later, Mary came by with snacks and joined them.
Mary: “I brought some Cheetos and popcorn- wha? You guys started without me?!”
Marvel and Junior: “Sorry, Mary.” *in unison and in shame*
Mary: *sighs and just sits down with them* “Why’s Green Lantern here??
GL: “I just found the fact that a grown man finds this entertaining very interesting.” (He’s actually completely enthralled in these but he’s too embarrassed to admit it)
Mary: “Uh huh… sure.”
Hal’s a little ashamed to admit that they spent like two hours straight doing this until they transitioned into the GLMMs.
GL: “Wait, I don’t get it. Why does the Mom just not love her child?”
Marvel: *shrugs* “Cause she’s mean.”
A couple minutes later…
GL: “Wait, why did the dad die?!”
Mary: “For story progression!”
Like ten minutes later…
GL: “She’s a wolf-cat-angel-demon-unicorn hybrid…?”
Junior: “Yep, she’s special!”
GL: “HAH! Her bitch of a sister’s just a cat!”
Marvel, Mary, and Junior: *all just happy Hal’s invested*
After a couple GLMMs such as Bad Girls vs Gangsters, Emotionless Girl, and The CEO is my Boss, (shout out to everyone who watched these) they moved on to even more kiddy content. Such as Fnaf videos, but not just any… no no no, these ones
After the Fnaf thingy…
GL: “Damn.” *stands up* “My ass hurts from sitting on the ground for so long.”
Marvel: “Dang…” *pauses their next gacha vid* “So you’re out?”
GL: “Yup.” *stretches*
Mary: “It was nice having you Mr. Green Lantern Sir.”
Junior: “Yeah, thanks for letting us put you on.”
Marvel, Mary, and Junior: *same blinding smile*
Also, by the way, they were definitely watching GLMVs and singing along to “I’m a bad girlfriend” and “She’s crazy but she’s mine” and “Copycat” and “Queen.” All of which were and still are peak and I stand by that till this day.
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett#fawcett comics#hal jordan#green lantern
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Bad Idea, Right?
jegulus | explicit minors dni | complete | word count: 9,351
direct sequel to "no one has to know what we do" on ao3
James has waited for months to hear from Regulus since he gave him his number after they hooked up in the ballet studio. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about him. So when he's out with his best friend, Peter, and receives a text from an unknown number, he instantly needs to know if that number belongs to Regulus. He's had a few drinks and before he knows it, he's knocking on Regulus' door begging to go inside.
OR
James Potter is whipped.
***
Based on Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo
Full fic after the break or on ao3
James wasn't sure what he was thinking when Peter had asked him to go out for drinks and he had agreed. Really, he never said yes to going out, let alone to this bar—The Leaky Cauldron—full of shitty IPAs and even shittier music. But here he was, drinking an IPA that tasted more like piss than beer and watching as Peter tried his best to flirt with his third woman of the night. It wasn't that Peter was unattractive or that he was a bad guy, far from it, but he lacked tact. No matter how many times James had tried to help him or played wingman, Peter always managed to fumble his words and come off as a creep, even when James knew he really wasn't. He was still his best friend, regardless of his lack of social skills. James hoped that some day he would find someone willing to look past his nervous flirting and see him for who he really was: a kind-hearted man with very little social finesse.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He attempted to ignore it, preferring to stay present when he was out with his friend, but by the third vibration he said fuck it and dug into his pocket. Peter was preoccupied anyway.
Unknown: is this james? Unknown: it's been a while, so i'm not sure if this is still his number Unknown: sorry in advance if this is the wrong number, i know it's late
James quirked an eyebrow at the messages, his heart racing at the thought of who it could be. Regulus. He was the only one who James had given his number too in quite some time, and if he was honest with himself, he had nearly given up hope to ever hear from him again. Instead of texting, he decided to call the number. He needed to know for sure that it was Regulus on the other side of that unknown number.
The phone rang four times before it was finally answered, a long silence stretching out before James heard a soft "Hello?"
He immediately made his way through the crowd of people towards the back exit, needing a quiet space to speak to the man he hadn't stopped thinking about for months. "Hey, is this Regulus?"
"Depends. Is this still James' number?"
"Yeah. Yes. I've been thinking about you, baby. I had almost given up on ever hearing from you again."
More silence. James began to doubt that he had handled this well. Maybe he was more like Peter than he had realized.
"I've been thinking about you too, Daddy. Couldn't stop thinking about you, actually."
Fuck. Maybe nothing had changed between them after all. He felt the desperation to see Regulus, to be between his pretty thighs, growing just as strong as that first day he laid eyes on him. He knew in the first moment that he had seen him that he needed to claim him. Needed nothing more than to make Regulus his.
"What took you so long then?"
Regulus hummed. It sounded to him that Regulus was milking the time in an attempt to avoid answering his question. He almost didn't expect a response at all.
"I needed to be sure that I wanted you again and that I wasn't just dick drunk. Come over?"
James laughed. "I'd love to baby, but I'm drunk drunk."
"Take a cab. I'll text you my address."
"Regulus, I—" James heard the line go dead, Regulus determining that the conversation was over and that James would, in fact, be going over to his place. He wanted to say that he had more self control than to simply show up at Regulus' beck and call, and yet… he knew he wasn't. He knew that Regulus would text him his address and he'd immediately pull up the rideshare app on his phone, entering the address given to him.
He slid his phone back into his pocket and headed back into the bar in search of Peter. James might have been bailing on him in favor of seeing the guy he'd been fantasizing about since their last meeting, but he'd at least have the decency to tell his best friend that he was leaving early. He looked around until he saw Peter sitting alone at the bar, nursing his drink.
"Hey," James said, sitting down in the stool next to him.
Peter looked up at his voice. "Oh, hey. Wasn't sure where you went."
"Didn't go well, I take it?"
"Nah," Peter shrugged. "She told me she had a boyfriend, but I think she just wanted me to leave her be, so I came over here to grab another drink." He took a generous sip of his beer.
James felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it in favor of consoling his friend. "I doubt you'll find your soulmate in a bar like this anyway, man." He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered another beer. He figured he'd need it to give him a dose of bravery, even if it tasted like piss.
"I doubt it. But a quick fuck in the bathroom would do for now, y'know?"
"Not these bathrooms," James laughed. "They're disgusting. At least up your standards to the alleyway or something."
The bartender smirked as he delivered James' drink.
"I think I need to head home after this one," James said, raising his drink and nodding toward Peter.
James felt his phone vibrate again and he pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the push notifications.
Unknown: you're still coming over, right? Unknown: don't ignore me daddy
Peter looked over his shoulder at his phone and laughed. "Home, huh?" He took a sip of his drink. "Who's that?"
"Look, I—"
"It's fine, man. You haven't gotten laid in months now, I think you're due. So, tell me about her."
"Not a her, first off."
"Oh, yeah? Don't let the team find out about that one. They can say all they want that they're accepting, and maybe they are individually, but you know you'd never make it pro if the rumors start in the locker room."
James took a long sip of his piss-beer. "Yeah, I know. We're just friends anyway, it's not a big deal."
They sat in borderline awkward silence for a few minutes, drinking and avoiding touching the subject that Peter had brought up. James knew that Peter didn't have a discriminatory bone in his body, but he also knew that he was right. A desperate part of him wanted to call Regulus his boyfriend and he had to wonder how that would work if he had to keep Regulus a secret. He doubted that someone who was so used to being in the spotlight would feel okay with being a secret behind closed doors.
His phone vibrated on the bar.
Unknown: [unknown sent you one image]
Peter looked down at his phone at the same moment he did and smirked. "Just a friend, huh?"
"Pete, shut the fuck up."
"C'mon, I just wanna see what your friend sent you after asking if you were still coming over."
Unknown: i hope this is tempting enough for you to tell me you're on your way
"Yeah, he's definitely just a friend." Peter laughed. "C'mon then, respond. We both know you're going over."
"I probably won't," James said. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Peter or himself. "I have an early class tomorrow and then practice."
"Uh huh." Peter downed the remainder of his beer and leveled him a disbelieving look.
James unlocked his phone and opened the text thread. "Fuck." He could barely breathe as he looked at the image Regulus had sent him.
It was a mirror selfie unlike any that James had ever received. Regulus was sitting on the floor in front of a floor length mirror, his back to the mirror as he looked over his shoulder. The phone blocked his face from view, but he could see his artfully tousled black curls, tempting him to thread his fingers there. He sensed that if he could see his face, Regulus' pupils would be blown wide and a blush would be dusting his cheeks. He wore nothing but a black silk robe, pooling around his hips, revealing his bare back but hiding his perfect ass and thighs from view. The pads of his feet were visible, and James could tell from their angle that his legs were parted and his ass was positioned in such a way that if he was there in person, he'd need to get a taste. Fuck.
James: yeah, i'm on my way. lemme say goodbye to my friend and grab an uber.
James saved his number in his contacts, saving him as Baby. He was sure that he was still in Regulus' phone as Daddy, and if he wasn't, he'd be changing that as of tonight.
"So," Peter said, drawing out the 'o' in the word. "Definitely a friend?"
"As far as you're concerned, yeah."
Peter laughed. "I'll see ya tomorrow then, don't show up with any marks you don't want the guys to ask about."
James pulled up the rideshare app on his phone and nodded to his friend as he entered the address Regulus had provided to him into the request. "See ya." He paid out his tab and headed outside to wait.
In the car, he tried to calm his nerves, but it proved to be nearly impossible. The driver had music that he was unfamiliar with blasting and kept yelling over it to ask him questions. He ignored them, feigning being unable to hear over the music. He looked out the window to watch the city pass by rather than attempt to have polite conversation. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket again and dug into his jeans to check the notification. He smiled when he opened the text to see Regulus checking in with him again. After two months of not speaking to each other at all, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of Regulus being just as anxious to see him.
Baby: eta?
He decided not to reply to the text. According to the GPS, he was only a few minutes away, and a small part of him wanted to make Regulus feel just a little anxious about not hearing from him. After all, Regulus had taken James' number when they saw each other those months ago and hadn't reached out until now. The least he could do was be patient for a few minutes. James had been patient for months. Regulus should be grateful that James wasn't making him wait to see him on his terms. Or at least, that's what he tried to convince himself. He knew deep down that the moment Regulus had texted him it was all over. James would trip over himself time and time again just for a taste of whatever Regulus gave him.
When the car stopped in front of an apartment building, James hopped out and made his way up the steps to a locked door. He pressed the button that corresponded to the apartment number Regulus had texted him, a loud buzz ringing out around him, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The door let out a quiet hum and he heard the lock click, indicating that he had been granted entrance. He couldn't help but wonder if Regulus was just as nervous as he was right now—waiting in his apartment at the door, peering out the peephole to see when James would arrive. He hoped that he was.
He finally arrived at the door labeled with the number Regulus had given him and as he lifted his hand to knock, the door flew open. Regulus stood there, draped in the black silk bathrobe that he had been wearing in the photo, looking like a fucking dream. Suddenly, all thoughts of irritation at not being texted sooner vanished. All that mattered was the man in front of him, draped in silk, but as James raked his eyes up those lean legs and the curves of his body, he noticed that Regulus was wearing an irritated scowl.
"Why didn't you text me back?" Regulus snapped, crossing his arms and blocking the entrance to his apartment by leaning against the frame of the doorway.
"I—" James was confused. He had never seen Regulus this cold and dismissive before. Why would him not texting Regulus trigger such a strong response like this? Especially when it had been months since James had heard from him.
"I know you saw the text. Your read receipts are on. So. Why didn't you text me back?"
"I was almost here. Can I come in? I'd rather not do this in the hallway."
"I'm not sure I want you to."
"Baby, come on."
"No."
The door slammed in his face. Usually, having a door slammed in his face would discourage him, and if it was only about the sex, he'd have a far easier time getting that at the bar that he had come from. But there was just something about Regulus that drew him like a moth to a flame. He listened closely—the door hadn't been locked and he had only heard a few steps away from the door. He let out a breath and rapped his knuckles on the door.
"Regulus?" he asked through the wooden barrier between them. "I know you can hear me. I'm going to open this door on the count of three. If you don't want me to come in, lock it before then, yeah? I'll leave if the door is locked."
He didn't hear a response, but he hadn't really expected to. He counted to three and tried the knob. It turned freely in his hand and he pushed the door open to find Regulus standing in the entryway, staring at the floor. Suddenly, he looked so small and fragile to James. He hadn't thought until this very moment about the potential of him being the reason that Regulus would have avoided texting for this long. He knew what Regulus had said—I needed to be sure that I wanted you again and that I wasn't just dick drunk—but when he thought back on their first interaction, he realized what an ass he had been before they had hooked up. He wondered if those words he had said were making Regulus question James' true intentions here. He wondered if those words had made Regulus question his very self-worth.
I don’t date…
Have you ever had a hot quarterback want to fuck you in the dance studio?
…It can stay between us.
And fuck, he wished that he when met Regulus that he asked him on a date instead of casually fucking him in the studio. He had never wanted to date before, but everything about their chemistry had felt life-altering and brain-rewiring. When Regulus had kissed him, he felt like that was the first time he had truly been kissed—like every kiss before then had been to prepare him for how earth-shattering a real kiss would be.
Every thought that had occupied his mind lately had been about Regulus. When the team had practice at the ballet studio last month, he had hoped beyond hope that Regulus would be the one teaching them again. When it had been a tiny woman with hair so blonde it was nearly white who had greeted him with a bright smile, he had almost felt bad for how coldly he had returned her greeting. He had spent the entirety of class thinking about what he and Regulus had done together in that very same space. When class had ended, he asked the woman—Pandora, he learned—about Regulus. She refused to give him a single detail, saying that if Regulus had wanted him to know anything then he would have reached out. It was obvious to James that the two of them were friends and that she was protecting Regulus, but the realization that Regulus needed to be protected from James because he had been such an asshole hadn't registered in his mind until this very moment.
"Why did you let me inside?" James asked in an attempt to let Regulus admit how he was feeling before James groveled over mere intuition.
Regulus' eyes snapped up, icy silver and full of something that James couldn't quite place. "Why didn't you text me back?" he threw back with venom lacing his tone, avoiding the question.
"Honestly? A few reasons. I was almost here being the main one. But I was also hurt that it took you this long to reach out to me. It made me feel like I had a little bit of the power back, I suppose. I wanted you to squirm for just a few minutes like I did these past couple months. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"I let you in because I'm stupid."
James flinched at that. "I think we can both agree that I'm the stupid one out of the two of us and that you're just far too forgiving."
Regulus quirked an eyebrow, his hurt and anger dissolving into something unreadable on his face. "I'm not sure which of us is more self-depreciating."
James gave a small laugh and took a timid step towards Regulus. "That's probably a tie, I'd wager." When Regulus didn't move away, James closed the space between them. "Why did you call me tonight, baby?"
Regulus looked away, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. "I—I just wanted to see you."
"Is that all?" James brushed a stray curl from Regulus' face and tucked it behind his ear. He used the movement to trail his fingers along Regulus' jaw and then with two fingers, tilted his face up so that he was forced to look at James. The blush on his cheeks deepened and it took every ounce of effort on James' part not to kiss him until they were both breathless. "I'm glad you called. I missed you, I couldn't stop thinking about you actually. I even asked your friend, or I assume she's your friend, Pandora? But she refused to tell me anything about how you were or—"
Regulus rose to the balls of his feet and pressed a tentative kiss to James' lips, interrupting his nervous rambling. He pulled back and looked at James, his eyes full of questions he was too afraid to voice, but James knew they were there. He had the same questions swirling in his own mind.
"Regulus, what are we doing?"
"I'm trying to kiss you. What are you doing, Daddy?" Regulus purred, his voice thick with desire.
Every semblance of control James had over his yearning for Regulus snapped at the use of that damn word. He had never thought he'd be so turned on from someone calling him 'Daddy' but the moment Regulus—the most demanding brat he had ever met—had surrendered control to him and uttered the word, he was done for. And Regulus knew it too, used it to his own advantage, swaying James from having a serious discussion to get him to bend to his every whim. He wondered if Regulus had ever been the one to surrender control to him, really. He hoped to one day be able to make Regulus feel so safe and cherished that he did.
"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me." James crashed his lips to Regulus' and every part of him felt right. These last few months he had felt like every part of him was slowly coming undone, unraveling at the seams. Even his coach had noticed a difference in practices, making him run more drills and sprints than usual. There was no way that he could continue to go on without Regulus in his life. Every kiss they exchanged felt like coming up for air after nearly drowning. Their tongues explored one another and it was like returning home after far too long away.
Regulus pulled away after what could have been five seconds or five hours, James wasn't sure, but the whine he let out at the loss of contact was embarrassing. Or, would have been embarrassing if he was a proud man. He had just come to the conclusion that he would sacrifice all pride in exchange for even just one more kiss from the man in his arms.
"Shh," Regulus soothed as he snaked a hand down James' arm and threaded their fingers together. "Come to my room?"
"Anything." James said too quickly.
Regulus quirked an eyebrow. "Anything?" he asked deviously. "You may regret that."
James hummed, pretending to think about the statement. He didn't have to, he knew that Regulus could ask anything of him and he'd do everything in his power to make it happen. "Doubtful. Lead the way, baby."
Regulus took his hand and lead him down a hallway and into an open door. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, draped in black silk and plush cream blankets. Thick forest green drapes were drawn and a floor length mirror that James recognized from the photo Regulus had sent him earlier sat in a corner next to a vanity set. The entire room was the pinnacle of comfort and elegance and felt so very much like Regulus, he couldn't help but to smile. Regulus pulled him into his body and pressed a kiss to his mouth before pushing him backwards towards the edge of the bed.
"Sit," Regulus said.
"Feeling bossy tonight, baby?" James purred.
"I'm always bossy," Regulus replied as he stepped forward. James opened his legs so he could stand between, reaching out to pull Regulus in close. Regulus hummed and trailed a finger down James' jaw, his eyes hooded and hazy with desire. "You just caught me off guard the first time."
"You seemed to enjoy it all the same," James said. He turned his head towards Regulus' trailing finger and caught it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digit and hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked. He reached up and slid his hands under the silk robe to grab Regulus' ass.
"Safe words?" Regulus asked, pulling his finger out of James' mouth and looking down at him with an unreadable expression.
"Isn't that my line?"
"Not tonight, Daddy."
James moaned. He couldn't remember a time that he'd ever allowed the roles to be reversed. He always preferred to control the scene, to know everything that would happen, but something about Regulus made him want to relinquish that control. He trusted him, even if he barely knew him. He knew he'd be safe within the walls of this room with him.
"Red means immediately stop, in need of aftercare. Yellow means stop, check in. Green means good to go, please for the love of God, don't stop." Regulus nodded along as James spoke. He gently removed his glasses for him and walked away to place them on the nightstand next to the bed and then returned to his spot between James' knees. James leaned forward into his body and then he felt the sharp sting of a palm on his cheek.
"I didn't say you could touch me yet," Regulus said coldly as he stepped back, removing James' hands from his body and leaving him sitting alone on the bed fully clothed. "Color?" His voice softened as he checked in.
"Fucking hell," James massaged his cheek. He had never had anyone slap him before, in or out of the bedroom, and it stung in a way he wasn't expecting.
"James, we can't continue if you won't answer me."
"Sorry, yeah, green. I'm green. Never been on this side of it, responding is harder than I thought."
Regulus' eyebrows raised in surprise, his face softening in concern and trepidation. "Let's pause, yeah?"
"I said I was green, baby."
"I know, I know, but—"
"Keep going, please. I'll be so good for you, beg so pretty if that's what you want." James would do anything.
Regulus seemed to be lost in thought for so long, James wasn't sure that he would continue, and then he slipped away once more and walked over to the opposite side of the room where a dresser sat against the wall. He picked up his phone and began to fiddle on it and just when James was about begin to beg, music filled the space around them. Regulus placed his phone down on the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a black box. He held the box as he walked back over towards the bed, placed it on the bed behind James, and then slowly strode to the middle of the room to stand in front of James, but just out of reach. He began to slowly untie the silk robe, his long fingers moving with purpose, working the knot in methodical movements that were intended to drive James insane. When the knot was undone, Regulus pulled the silk tie from around his body and threw it at James. He moved his hips to the music the entire time, rolling his body and driving James crazy with want. He could feel his cock quickly thickening in his jeans, becoming uncomfortable with neglect.
As he danced, the robe gaped slightly, giving James all too brief glimpses of Regulus' toned body, his abs flexing with movement, and red lace panties. James' mouth watered, wanting nothing but to tear through the lace and get a taste of what was hidden beneath it. Regulus inched the robe down off of his shoulders and turned his body, arching his back and giving James a show of the silk slowly being removed. He barely caught a glimpse of the red lace cupping Regulus' ass perfectly before his face got covered with the robe being thrown at him. He quickly ripped it off his face and gaped at the view of Regulus swaying his hips as he walked towards him.
"No touching," Regulus warned as he approached.
James nodded, though he wasn't sure if he could abide by the rule. Regulus crawled onto the bed, nestling his knees on either side of James' body and resting his hands on his shoulders as he began rocking his hips in time with the music. At first, Regulus hovered, avoiding touching James as well, but then he leaned in. He began grinding his hips on James, both of them moaning at the friction. It took every ounce of self control that James had to keep his hips still and his hands firmly placed on the bed as Regulus ground himself on his cock. One of Regulus' hands slid up from James' shoulder and buried itself into James' curls. He gave James a sloppy kiss and when he pulled away, a trail of spit connected them.
Regulus pushed at James' shoulder and he allowed himself to fall back, laying on the bed with his feet off the edge and staring up at the beautiful man before him. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he said, unable to stop himself from verbalizing the observation.
"I know, but I think you've seen enough, Daddy."
James' brows knit together in confusion as Regulus reached forward, grinding his hips into James as he did. James moaned at the friction, the sharp zipper of his jeans digging into his swollen cock and kissing him with a combination of pleasure and pain. He heard Regulus rummaging into something, the box he assumed, and when he sat back he held up a blindfold in question.
"Fuck," James moaned. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you want, baby. Just… please let me out of my clothes first?"
"Aw, poor Daddy. Fully clothed while his baby is dripping with desire." Regulus placed the blindfold on the bed next to him and dipped his fingers into his panties. James could feel his fingers swirling in the wetness gathered there through his jeans, nearly bucking his hips at the feeling. When Regulus pulled his hand away, his fingers were soaked with his arousal. He sucked his fingers into his own mouth, moaning as he pulled the fingers away and pushed them against his lips as his tongue swirled around them. James groaned and pushed his hips up into Regulus' body, seeking more friction as he watched.
"You're not going to cum until I let you, Daddy." Regulus made quick work of removing James' shirt and then shifted his hips so he had access to James' belt. He made a show of unlatching the belt and sliding the leather through the loops before holding the belt in front of him. "Hands?"
James looked up at Regulus' face as he held out his hands in offering. He felt Regulus wrap the belt around his wrists, looping the leather confidently, latched the buckle, and then checked the tension with his fingers. Then, Regulus picked up the blindfold and secured it over his eyes, preventing James from both seeing and touching what he most desired.
"Color?"
"Green."
"Good."
He felt the weight of Regulus leave his lap and whined at the loss of him. Left fully alone on the bed, he writhed in need. The loss of his sight was a sensation that heightened all other senses in his body and his leaking and aching cock began to overwhelm all of his nerves. He heard a rustling of fabric and then froze when he felt Regulus' fingers begin to work at the button of his jeans. He unzipped the fly of his jeans tortuously slow and then James felt his jeans being pulled by the loops. He canted his hips to aid in the removal of them and then felt Regulus' hot breath against his cock through the thin material of his boxer briefs.
"Look at you," Regulus breathed, nuzzling into his aching cock. "So hard for me and I've barely touched you. Leaking and desperate for me."
"Just for you, baby," James said as he thrusted his hips into nothing, seeking friction and finding none.
"Such a little slut for me," Regulus said. "Sluts don't get to cum though, do they?"
James let out a desperate whine. He could tell from Regulus' voice that he was no longer near his cock and his suspicions were confirmed when he felt the bed dip next to his head.
"Especially when they lack manners. You can't even beg properly." Regulus continued. "You'll have to work extra hard to cum, Daddy."
James felt Regulus crawling closer and then Regulus was hovering over his mouth, hot pleasure nearly dripping into his mouth. Regulus was so close, he could practically taste him. He let out a whine and lifting his head in an attempt to meet Regulus' body with his mouth, desperate to please.
A rough hand buried into his hair and held him in place. "Mind your manners, Daddy. Ask me nicely to sit on your face. Beg for my cunt, like the needy slut you are."
"Please, baby. Please let me taste you." Every thought had left James' mind, the only thing that mattered was dipping his tongue into Regulus' body. "I'll do anything you say, please, please. Baby, I just need to taste you. Please."
Regulus hummed and released his hand from James' hair. "Maybe you can be trained," he said, mimicking the words that James had said to him just a few short months ago when their roles had been reversed. "If you need to safe word, reach up and tap me three times. Show me, Daddy." James contorted his hands so he could follow the direction given and when Regulus was satisfied that James knew how to get his attention, he lowered himself onto James's face. He let out a loud moan as James dipped his tongue into him, grinding into James' face. James moaned right along with him—unable to see or touch, his senses became overwhelmed with everything that was Regulus. He rocked his hips as he continued to lick and suck and bury himself into Regulus' wet heat. He felt Regulus' breath hitch, aware of every movement the man riding his face made, and then Regulus was cumming. James' mouth flooded with the heady taste of Regulus' orgasm and he continued to lick him through it, relishing in the warm liquid pooling in his mouth.
"Fuck," Regulus moaned, grinding his hips down into James' face. "I knew we could put that mouth to good use."
James groaned, circling the bundle of nerves at the apex of Regulus' thighs with his tongue, hoping that Regulus knew he agreed with the sentiment.
"How many times can you make me cum, Daddy?"
James' hips bucked, seeking friction he knew he wouldn't find. He continued to lick and suck at Regulus above him, desperate to please the man riding his face. It didn't take long for Regulus to cum again and as James fucked his tongue into him, he felt Regulus ride the wave of one orgasm right into another, the taste of him sweet in his mouth. His hips were constantly moving of their own accord now, James barely aware of his own body, and wholly focused on Regulus' pleasure. He had decided that if he couldn't feel physical pleasure of his own, then he would tune himself into Regulus'.
"Do you want to cum, Daddy?" Regulus asked the question, but pushed himself so firmly onto James' face that he could hardly breathe, let alone answer. James moaned at the feeling and gave himself earnestly to Regulus for his pleasure, sucking at the nerves and tasting Regulus orgasm again.
Regulus let out a breathy moan, riding James' face through his orgasm, before he spoke again. "You've been so good for me, keeping that mouth busy to make sure I cum. So, so good. I think you get rewarded for being so well behaved."
When Regulus raised his body from James' face, he whined at the loss. He heard Regulus laugh darkly. "Little slut misses my cunt already?" A finger trailed his body, starting at his neck and working down his chest to a nipple, then pinched. "Answer me."
"Y-yeah. Miss it so much, baby. You taste so good. I could live off that cunt."
"Hmm," Regulus hummed in consideration as he continued to trail his fingers up and down James' torso. "If I let you cum, do you think you'll be able to fuck me and cum inside me after?"
"Inside? Reg—"
"I'm haven't—I'm still clean if you are. I have an IUD. Sorry, uh… Yellow? I shouldn't have brought this up while you're… like this."
Regulus began fiddling with the blindfold and James pulled his head away in a desperate attempt to make Regulus stop. He didn't want to break the scene, he had felt himself slipping into a subspace for the first time and wanted to allow himself to relish at the feeling. "No, baby. Green. I'm good. Better than good. I want that so bad, desperate for it actually."
"James, I'm the one who called the safe word… I have condoms, it's fine—"
"I don't want them, you only called the safe word because you felt like you were coercing me. You're not. I want this. I want you." James was desperate to make Regulus understand that he was fully aware of the decision, that he was truly fine with the decision. He hadn't been with anyone since he and Regulus had hooked up and if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to be with anyone else anyway. He trusted when Regulus said he had birth control and if he didn't… well, he'd even be okay with the consequences of that too. Fuck, Regulus made him feel insane.
He heard Regulus let out a breath, a long stretch of silence weighing heavy between them. Then, he felt a hand rubbing his cock between the thin material of his briefs. He hissed at the contact, his cock neglected for so long it grew hypersensitive. "Well, then you're going to have to answer the question, Daddy. Will you be able fuck me after I get you off?"
Regulus pulled his hand away and James chased his hand with his hips, desperate for the heady mixture of pleasure and pain that was the feather light touch of his hand on his cock. He nodded, shameless in his search for pleasure from the man who held him in the palm of his hand.
"Words, Daddy. If you won't answer, I'll just have to use one of the toys in that box instead while you lay here, pathetic and needy, listening to me cum all by myself."
"Fuck, baby. Yeah, yes. Please. Can I cum? Can you make me cum?"
"Well," Regulus purred. "Since you asked so sweetly."
James felt his boxers being pulled down from his hips and he shifted his weight to help, his cock sprang free and he hissed at the feeling of the fabric when it brushed against his sensitive skin. Before he had adjusted to his cock free from the confines of his underwear, Regulus had taken him into his mouth, swallowing his entire length in one fluid motion. He pulled back, brushing the flat of his tongue against the underside of his cock, then swirled his tongue around his sensitive tip. Regulus pushed his tongue into the slit, lapping at the pre-cum gathered there, then sucked his cock back into his mouth, taking him all the way to the back of his throat. He continued to bob his head, hollowing his cheeks and sucking before relaxing his throat and taking him impossibly deeper. James moaned, pushing his hips in time with Regulus' movements before he felt himself on the edge of his orgasm.
"Reg, baby, I'm gonna—" Regulus gripped his thighs and pushed himself down, holding James deep to spill down his throat. James thrust his hips as he felt himself dissolve into pleasure, the hypersensitivity lending itself to a powerful orgasm. He felt Regulus pull away and he whined at the loss of contact.
Regulus crawled up his body and ripped off the blindfold. James blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the light of the room after being deprived for so long. "Hi, baby. You look so pretty with your lips swollen from sucking my cock."
"You have a big mouth for someone who still can't use his hands," Regulus teased. James watched as Regulus reached over him towards the box on the bed. He rustled around until he found what he was looking for and instead of leaning back into James' body, he pushed himself up and away. James stared at his ass as he walked across the room, missing the warmth of his body, but relishing in the view. Regulus dragged a chair from the vanity in front of the bed where James was perched and sat down, propping his feet on the edge of the bed on either side of James' knees with a cherry red vibrator in his hand.
James sat upright, his legs dangling off the bed, and shifted his body closer to Regulus. "Baby, what are you doing?"
"You're going to watch until you learn to keep your mouth shut."
"You're really gonna fuck yourself with a vibrator that's my favorite color and expect me to be quiet?"
"If you want to fuck me after, yes." Regulus turned on the vibrator, the hum of the toy filling the space between them. "I am more than happy to fuck myself until I'm satisfied if you decide not to learn your lesson, it won't be me going home with an aching cock."
Regulus leaned back into the chair, opening his legs wider to offer James a perfect view of how soaked he was before he brushed the toy over the sensitive nerves. James whined as Regulus moaned in pleasure, his cock already half hard from the view before him. Regulus pushed the vibrator inside of him and writhed, rocking his hips and crying out in pleasure. James could practically taste the orgasm building inside Regulus already.
"Baby, you're so fucking pretty, I wish you could see yourself."
"Maybe I was wrong about you," Regulus said between moans, fucking himself on the vibrator without inhibitions.
James hummed and leaned forward, dropping his bound arms between his knees so he could get himself closer to Regulus. "Wrong about what, baby?"
"Maybe you can't be trained after all." Regulus gasped, arching his back as he rode through another orgasm.
"Probably not," James laughed darkly. "I've never let anyone boss me around before. Give a man a little credit for his efforts? You're irresistible after all."
"Fuck it—" Regulus turned off the vibrator and tossed it on the bed next to James as he lowered his legs. He reached forward and undid the buckle of the belt binding James' arms together and massaged the skin there, ensuring that he hadn't lost any feeling in the limbs.
James laced his fingers into Regulus' dark curls and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, his head spinning at the taste of himself on Regulus' lips. "We could still use the toy, you know."
Regulus raised an eyebrow in question, giving James a nonverbal prompt to continue.
"You could keep fucking yourself with that toy, which I loved watching by the way, holy fuck— And I could fuck that tight ass of yours at the same time."
Regulus sat in the chair staring for a moment, seemingly too stunned by the suggestion to speak.
"If you don't want—"
"I want. I've just… I've never done that before. Both, at the same time."
"I'll make it so good for you, sweetheart." James leaned in for a quick kiss. "Get on the bed for me on all fours, yeah? I'm assuming you've got lube in this box of yours." He leaned back towards the box and rummaged through until he found a bottle of lube. As he searched, he felt the bed shift with Regulus' weight. When he looked back over, he saw Regulus on the bed with his ass in the air, staring at him with a glassy, contented expression. James picked up the discarded vibrator, turned it on, and handed it to Regulus. "Don't stop, baby."
He watched as Regulus adjusted his body so that he could fuck himself on the toy and moaned at the sight. Gripping Regulus' ass, James parted his cheeks and lapped at the ring of muscle while Regulus continued to writhe and moan beneath him. When James had determined that Regulus was thoroughly relaxed, he coated his fingers with lube and gently pushed in one finger.
"You take me so good, baby. Fuck, it's like you were made for this." He continued to work Regulus open, pushing his finger in and out in time with the way Regulus was moving the vibrator. He coaxed a second finger inside and felt Regulus tense at the change. James used his other hand to rub soothing circles into his ass, whispering sweet words to relax him. "Just breathe, baby. You're doing so good. So good for me."
Regulus preened, relaxing almost instantly at the praise. He pushed his ass into James further, begging for more with his body instead of his words. James continued to work his fingers, opening him gently so that he would continue to relax into the feeling. He knew it would burn when he pushed his third finger in and when he did, he heard Regulus take in a sharp breath, but he didn't tense like he had earlier. Instead, he rocked into his hand, never once faltering in fucking himself with the vibrator. James felt the vibrations up his arm and groaned at the thought of how obscene it was going to feel to be inside of Regulus in just a few short moments. He continued to scissor his fingers, working Regulus open and prepping him to avoid the burn as much as possible.
"Daddy, if you don't fuck me soon I'm going to lose my mind."
"I just want to make sure you're ready, baby." James moved his fingers slower, teasingly.
Regulus whined, pushing his ass back into James' hand. "Please, I'm fucking ready and you know it."
James hummed, pretending to be deep in thought and stilling his fingers. "I'm not sure you're begging nicely enough, baby."
"Please, Daddy. Please, I need your cock." Regulus arched his back impossibly further, tempting James with such a beautiful view he couldn't resist.
"Well, since you asked so nicely, baby." James pulled his fingers away and slicked his cock with lube before lining himself up at Regulus' entrance. "Remember to use your safe words, baby. If it hurts, pull the vibrator out, okay? It shouldn't hurt, just relax into it."
Regulus nodded.
"Words, baby." James was so close to losing his self control.
"Yes, Daddy. If it hurts, I'll stop. Now for the love of God, please fuck me already."
James laughed darkly and slapped Regulus' ass for the bratty behavior before he began to slowly inch himself inside. Regulus moaned, a needy and wanton thing, and James felt him slow the movement of the vibrator as he pushed himself into his body. The vibrations traveling through Regulus' body into his cock made his breath hitch with pleasure. He paused his movements when he bottomed out, waiting for Regulus to squirm or begin moving the toy again before he fucked into him with reckless abandon.
"Fucking—Move, James."
James slapped his ass again, not moving an inch. "That's not who I am to you right now, baby. And that's not how you speak to me."
"You're having a real fucking power trip for someone who was tied up a few minutes ago."
"You're having a real fucking power trip for someone who's filled up in every hole." James leaned forward and shoved two fingers in Regulus' mouth, pushing them deep and making Regulus gag from the surprise. When the shock subsided, Regulus moaned and swirled his tongue around. "I'm going to fuck you now and the only thing you're going to say is please and thank you, Daddy."
Regulus nodded around his fingers and James pulled away so he could finally move his hips. His pace was relentless, ignoring the pace that Regulus had set with the toy and fucking into him for nothing but the pursuit of his own pleasure. Regulus moaned and writhed beneath him, pushing his hips back into James in an attempt to keep pace. The vibrator continued to buzz, sending both of them into heightened sensitivity, and James knew that despite his earlier orgasm, he wasn't going to last long.
"Please," Regulus moaned. His back was shiny with sweat and when he looked over his shoulder at James, he noticed that his usual waves were stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed with pleasure and James nearly came at the sight of him completely undone beneath him.
"Please, what, baby?" James asked as he continued pounding into him.
"Wanna cum. Want you to cum. Please, Daddy."
"Want me to fill you up, baby?"
Regulus let out a loud moan and James felt his body tense in pleasure.
"Fuck, baby. I've got you, cum for me one more time. I'll give you what you need."
That was all it took for Regulus to become undone and at the feeling of those muscles tightening and relaxing around him, James came hard and fast. He thrusted impossibly deeper inside of Regulus and spilled every drop inside of his body, marveling at the feeling.
Regulus pulled the toy out of himself and switched off the vibration before chucking it to the side on the bed and going completely limp beneath him. James collapsed on top of him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close as he turned to his side, spooning Regulus while still inside of him. He didn't want to be apart yet. He needed this closeness after the intensity of what they had just done together. He kissed Regulus' shoulder and hummed a mindless melody to himself, completely sated and satisfied.
After a few minutes, it was Regulus who broke the silence. "James, you-you're still inside of me and we're disgusting."
"Shh, sweetheart. One more minute." James felt his eyes growing heavy and his cock softening inside of Regulus' body.
"If we stay like this for one more minute, you're gonna fall asleep. We're sticky and gross. I can't sleep like this. Let's shower."
He felt Regulus pulling away and teasingly bit down on his shoulder, earning himself a rare laugh from Regulus, and then Regulus did pull away and James let out a whine. He opened his eyes and while his vision wasn't great without his glasses, it was clear enough to witness the eyeroll reserved just for him. Regulus held out his hand in offering and James groaned as he grabbed it and got up from the bed, allowing Regulus to lead him into the bathroom down the hall.
James watched as Regulus leaned over to adjust the water on the shower, staring at his ass and the evidence of his orgasm dripping out onto his thighs. He stepped closer and brushed a hand along Regulus' upper thigh, trailing up slowly, and gathered the cum leaking from his body onto his fingers. Regulus hitched a breath and leaned in, encouraging James to push his fingers inside of Regulus' ass.
"Not satisfied?" Regulus asked on a breathy moan.
"More like you make me feel insatiable. Besides, you wanted me to fill you up. Seemed like a waste to have it dripping out of you already." He pumped his fingers a few times before pulling them out and smacking his ass playfully. "Shower's ready, yeah?"
"Hmm? O-oh, yeah." Regulus stepped into the stream of water and James followed right after, letting the warm water soothe his tired muscles. They went through the routine of showering, exchanging sweet kisses and pulling each other close. They washed each other's bodies and hair and James felt like he could cry over the small acts of intimacy that they shared. When they finished, Regulus turned off the water and James toweled him off slowly, methodically. He made sure to touch every part of his body with the plush towel, immediately followed by soft kisses. When Regulus was dry, James wrapped a towel around his own hips and kissed him gently, reverently. Savoring the taste of him on his mouth, he hoped that Regulus would know how precious he was without words.
"It's getting late…" Regulus murmured between kisses.
James kissed him again, pulling his body impossibly closer. "Can I stay?"
"James, listen—"
"If you want to keep this casual, I get it, I just…"
Regulus' brows knit together. "You're the one who said you don't date, James. The shower together was pushing my boundaries of domesticity for a casual hookup."
"I know what I said—"
"Look, it's late—"
"No, let me finish. Please?"
Regulus sighed, pulling away slightly and James shivered at the loss of him. "Fine, but can we put clothes on first?"
"Yeah," James nodded. "Yeah, let's get dressed and have some tea or something."
They padded back to the bedroom in silence and Regulus pulled out clean clothes from his dresser. James picked up his discarded clothing from the floor and winced at the idea of pulling them back onto his body when Regulus wordlessly handed him a pair of sweatpants and a threadbare band tee.
"They might be a little tight, but that's the closest I've got to your size."
"Thanks, sweetheart." James smiled and pulled the clothes on. Regulus was right that they were a little tighter than he'd usually prefer, but they were still more comfortable than his jeans would have been. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and placed them back on his face.
Regulus' body was lost in the sea of baggy sweatpants and over-sized tee that he picked for himself and James smiled at the memory of meeting him for the first time and having to pull off so many layers that he lost count. He followed Regulus out of the room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen where he filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove to boil.
"I—"
"Peppermint?" Regulus asked, effectively stopping James from beginning the conversation he was itching to have. "I also have lavender?"
"Peppermint is fine." He answered. He let the silence draw out between them as Regulus worked to prepare their tea and when he was finally handed a steaming mug, he followed Regulus into the living room and sat next to him on the couch.
"Okay, now you can finish."
"I want to take you on a date."
Regulus quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "A date? This coming from the man who said he doesn't date."
"I don't—"
"And yet here you are, asking me for something you don't do?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
James let out a breath, gathering his thoughts and his nerves. "I really like you—"
"You don't know—"
"Let me finish. You said I could finish." James looked at Regulus earnestly, begging him with his eyes to listen to what he had to say before reacting.
Regulus leaned back into the couch and waved a hand for him to continue.
"I don't date. I haven't ever wanted to until I met you. And maybe this is fucking crazy, I feel fucking crazy, but I feel like I've known you my entire life. Like I've known you in every life I've ever lived. Like I've loved you in every one of them. And sure, we don't know each other very well here and now, but I feel like I know you. Like I could grow to love you in this lifetime too. Those months where you had my number but didn't reach out? I felt like I was missing a limb I never knew I had before I met you. I didn't seek anyone out in our time apart, I mean— Fuck, the guys on the team made fun of me for not taking home girls when we'd go out like I usually did. For ignoring everyone who threw themselves at me. None of them were you. I don't expect us to just magically fall in love and live happily ever after, but I really want us to give this a real shot." James finally looked up at Regulus. His eyes were red rimmed and tears gathered there, on the precipice of being spilled. "Don't cry, baby, I'm sorry—"
"Do you mean it?" Regulus' voice was small and shaky, like he was afraid to be this vulnerable.
"I do. But I need you to know before you agree to go out with me that we'd have to keep us a secret. At least until after the drafts. I-I really want this, I really want us, but I've been working my entire life to get into the NFL and they're just…"
"You can't be openly queer in football." Regulus said, his voice hollow and empty of emotion. The tears gathered in his eyes rolled down his cheeks and James leaned forward to wipe them away with his thumb.
"Not yet. I can be the first, but I need to get drafted first. I'm willing to be the first, if it means I get to keep you, as long as you know what kind of attention would fall onto you too."
"What kind of attention?"
"The homophobic kind. The picking apart everything about you and your life kind. The transphobic kind, undoubtedly."
Regulus flinched.
"I don't need an answer tonight, it's late and it's a lot to think about—"
"Ask me again."
"Regulus…"
"Ask me again."
"Can I stay the night?"
"Yes, James. I'd love that. But on one condition."
James smiled. "Anything for you."
"You have to take me out to breakfast in the morning. On a date."
"I'd be honored, baby."
#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus#marauders#marauders fanfiction#james potter#regulus black#james potter x regulus black#james potter is a simp#marauders era#harry potter fanfiction#jegulus smut#marauders smut#my writing#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer
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So here's y'alls first fight! Aren't you excited? Also I get to introduce y'all to one of my favorite girls.
Here is the Simon x Thimble playlist
Here is the MPS AU masterlist
Reminder, reader is fat. It's not a morally right or wrong thing, she's just fat.
Content warning;
Swearing, some weight stuff, Goggles
You woke up in bed, which typically wasn't a strange thing to do. But you hadn't gone to sleep in bed this time though. You'd crashed out on the couch after trying to read a book your mother had recommended, it was always obvious that the two of you had very different tastes in literature. So the fact that you had fallen asleep on the couch, but woke up in bed, was perplexing. Hopefully you weren't developing a habit of sleep walking. Sleep arguing was bad enough.
Padding out to the living room, you were prepared to look for clues to your mystery. Only you found Simon. On the couch. Reading the book that had put you to sleep. And judging by how much further into the book he had made it, he was enjoying it more than you had. He didn't even notice your presence until you were right in front of him. You even had to clear your throat for him to peer at you from over the pages.
"Was I still on the couch when you got home?"
"Yeah."
Ever the well of conversation your husband was.
"Did I sleep walk?"
"Negative."
Well that was not an answer you were expecting.
"Then how did I go from..."
You motioned between the couch and the bedroom door, as if the space was vast and truly impossible to have crossed other wise.
"Carried you."
"What?"
You didn't mean to sound flat in your question, but the idea that you had been carried around, regardless of if you were awake or not, wasn't one you liked. Not that Simon seemed to understand that, given how he raised a single eyebrow at how unenthused you sounded.
"That a problem?"
How could you answer this in a way that wasn't going to cause an issue. Because you could see this becoming an issue that would be annoying to have to deal with. Unfortunately the longer it took you to answer, the more likely it would be.
"No? Just wake me up next time."
Simon didn't seem satisfied with the answer given how he closed the book with a snap, giving you his undivided attention.
"You'd rather I wake you up."
You think he meant it as a question, even if he didn't say it that way.
"Yeah. Don't pick me up."
You could feel that curl of anxiety start in your gut, and it only got worse as Simon got up, his height causing you to have to crane your head back to look up at him.
"You hate getting woken up."
"Yeah well I don't like being picked up more."
"How come?"
Was this man serious? Was he honestly going to question you about why you didn't like something? Really you wanted to argue, tell him that it was none of his business and that you had made your request clear. But you remembered your mother's words that she had dispensed the last time you had complained to her about Simon, and his...lack of sharing at times. 'You don't get what you don't give'. Maybe you should stop complaining to your mother. Still, wouldn't hurt right? So with a sigh you just shrugged, meeting Simon's eyes once before looking aside.
"I'm heavy."
You had accepted what your body looked like ages ago. Understood that there were more important things than fitting into a certain size. Didn't mean you weren't aware of your body, the space you took up. You knew your body, and you knew you were heavy.
Instead of asking, or elaborating, Simon Riley did probably the worst thing he could have done. He picked you up. His arms were around your waist and your feet were off the floor before you register what he was doing. The second you did though it was like every nerve ending in your body was screaming no. You did not like this. You went tense, shoulders up to your ears and volume control wasn't your first concern as you practically shouted into Simon's face.
"Put me down. Put me down right now damnit!"
Whatever reaction Simon thought he was going to get from you, that hadn't seem to be one he was expecting. He did so, though the landing was a little jarring, most likely due to the sheer suddenness of your demands. It only served to make you angrier, you could feel it shooting up your spine. You could have been gentler as you pushed yourself out of his arms, but you didn't particularly care to be at the moment.
You didn't know if it was better or worse that he didn't say anything in his defense. Actually it was probably better that he was silent because it made it easier to cuss him out as you went back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. Fuck the sleeping arrangements. He could sleep on the fucking couch that night.
Simon had heard other soldiers complain when they had marital disputes. He didn't always listen in, but when he did he could typically agree that it was somehow the soldier's fault. Now that he was on the other end of it though? He didn't get it at all. He had only been trying to show you that it wasn't an issue for him to pick you up. He went to the gym, he could lift. But then you got all huffy and loud, and slammed the door in his face. You had even made him sleep on the couch.
And it wasn't like it had gotten better the next day. Apparently you had still been mad because you hadn't talked to him at breakfast, just gone through your usual routine and left without a goodbye. All he did was pick you up. It wasn't even like he dropped you or anything.
The puzzle left him feeling sour, though he couldn't really pinpoint what it was about it that made him feel such. Was it the cold shoulder you gave him? Maybe it was the fact you made him sleep on the couch. Either way he didn't like the fact that apparently you were still mad at him and it apparently was obvious to anyone given how Soap pestered him all morning about it until Simon finally spilled during PT in the weight room. It did make him feel better though, that Soap was equally as confused as to why you were so upset.
"I mean I don't get why the hen's mad, but have ye tried apologizing LT?"
"I would if I knew what I was apologizing for."
"Wow you're both fucking stupid."
The new voice caused both him and Johnny to whip around, hackles raised at being caught unaware. Some woman racked her weights, brushing her hands together before paying them attention again, expression such that seemed to beg what they were waiting for. Thankfully Soap bit the bullet before Simon could rudely do it.
"You are?"
"Goggles. Mechanical Engineer Unit."
She held her hand out for a greeting as if she hadn't just insulted the both of them. Simon only stared at it before crossing his arms over his chest, puffing himself up a little to sooth his ego. Again Soap stepped in since he was probably going to be the more civil of the two.
"What makes ye think we're stupid?"
"Oh it's not a thought." There was a brief pause afterwards, intentional, before she continued, "Anyways big guy here clearly wasn't listening to this Thimble person."
Big guy? Since when had Simon become 'big guy'. Clearly his reputation for being a hardass was suffering since his marriage to you. He was going to have to fix that. And what did she mean that he 'clearly wasn't listening'. He listened to you fine. He slept on the couch didn't he? Simon tuned back in at Soap's sputtering, confused as to why the Scotsman's cheeks were a little flushed. He clearly had missed something.
Clearing his throat, Simon got everyone's attention again and he could give Goggles a firm stare down. Not that it helped much given how nonchalant she appeared. He had a point to make.
"I listen to my wife just fine."
"Clearly not since you did the thing she didn't like, right after she told you she didn't like it."
Simon did not enjoy the tone she was using with him. In his affront it took him a second for the words to really sink in. Sure he had kind of disregarded what you had said, but it was just to show you it was okay.
"I can pick up my wife just fine."
The sigh Goggles gave him sounded like it came from the depths of her soul, and he couldn't quite get what she had mumbled under her breath, but Simon could imagine it wasn't flattering. He was just pointing out the truth.
"And that's why you're stupid."
"No I'm not."
The look Goggles gave him begged to differ. He was going to have to find out her rank and CO, he was not going to tolerate this kind of flack from someone ranked under him.
"You made it about you and your ego."
"No I didn't."
"Why'd you pick her up then."
"To show I could."
"But she didn't want you to. She told you that, and you did it anyways."
"Cause she said she was too heavy and I was proving she ain't."
"It doesn't matter. You still ignored what she said and steamrolled over the boundary she set."
That...might have caught Simon off guard. Just a little. Goggles seemed to have taken his lack of rebuttal as an acceptance of the point she was trying to make because she continued.
"Look I don't think you were trying to be an asshole but you still were. What if she ignored you when you said you didn't like something."
Simon wanted to argue that you basically always did what you wanted, his opinion be damned but...that wasn't really true was it? You didn't make a fuss about the face masks, you were always careful to not just go grabbing at him, and even if it was with dramatics, you respected his space. At least he hadn't seen you attempt to get a pin board into his home office. He couldn't really remember him ever having to tell you that he needed or wanted those things. You just...seemed to pick up on it. And when you had told him something you didn't like he ignored it. Not maliciously but...roads to hell and good intentions as they said.
It was his turn to sigh, in defeat, shoulders slumping as he accepted the fact that he had messed up. Without much fanfare he turned to leave the gym, firmly ignoring Soap's confused shouts to wait and Goggles' 'you're welcome' that floated to him. He had an apology to give.
Simon didn't know how to give an apology. Sure he had heard that the usual was chocolates and a bouquet of roses, but that was typically for someone you were in a relationship with. What did one get their technical wife but really more a roommate person as a way to say 'I'm sorry'? He could go with chocolates, but he knew that you tried not to over indulge in them since it messed with your sugar levels, and roses seemed to romantic. He stood in the card aisle at the shops looking at the wide selection without really liking any of them. They were either too sappy or too impersonal, or just stupid.
With a rising sense of frustration Simon grabbed the first apology card that had caught his eye and made his way over to the hot food section. Fuck it, you were saying you wanted a bird the other night. Chicken could be a decent apology gift.
When you got home, you weren't as angry as you had been when starting the day. Honestly you kind of felt stupid. Most girls seemed to kill to have a man that could pick them up willynilly, you were just...an outlier. When you had asked a coworker for advice she had told you you were being dramatic and that if you weren't going to appreciate Simon she would. You didn't think Simon was into the geriatric type but you had told her you'd pass along the message at least. So apparently you were a dramatic outlier that needed to apologize. Great.
It seemed that Simon had gotten home before you, and wasn't expecting you back so soon given how he froze up at the kitchen table, shoulders hunched as he had his back to you. Might as well get it over with.
"Hey Simon I-"
"Wait."
You weren't expecting Simon to interrupt you while you were trying to say I'm sorry, neither were you expecting him to turn around and step away, revealing an entire rotisserie chicken and a card.
"You got chicken?"
"As a sorry."
"A sorry?"
You looked from the chicken to Simon, who somehow looked both stoic and sheepish at the same time. It was probably how he stuffed his hands into his pockets, like he didn't know what to do with them.
"Yeah. 'm sorry. Shouldn't have ignored what you told me."
Oh. That was...unexpected. You had anticipated having to apologize and pretend like the entire situation hadn't happened. You didn't think he'd apologize first, or at all. You both stood in awkward silence as you tried to think of what to do next. Should you still apologize? Just accept it and still pretend nothing happened?
Before your brain could make a choice, your stomach did it for you, grumbling loudly as the scent of the cooked meat wafted to you. You could feel yourself flush as Simon huffed in what was probably amusement, turning to grab what you were hoping were plates. There was a chicken to eat after all.
"Thanks. And...I'm sorry too. For just yelling at you...and making you sleep on the couch."
Simon seemed to shrug off your apology, handing you two plates and sets of silverware before digging around in the freezer for some sort of steam bag to throw into the microwave.
"I've slept in worse places."
"Still we have an agreement."
"Hn."
You figured that was the end of your rivetingly awkward conversation as you worked on carving the bird into portions to eat and then store away. You didn't mind the silence as the two of you set up dinner together and started to dig in, though it did catch you off guard when Simon decided to have a different one.
"Is it okay for emergencies?"
You looked up from phone, blinking owlishly as you tried to understand what he was saying.
"Is what okay?"
"Picking you up? It's okay during emergencies ya?"
Was Simon planning on burning down your house anytime soon? Before you could question him on it though, an idea struck you. He was trying to ask what the boundary was, so he wouldn't break it again. You tried to ignore the warmth that bloomed in your chest.
"Yeah, it's okay for emergencies."
"Good."
You nodded, going back to your phone to wonder why the hell your friend still hadn't responded to your messages.
"And Thimble?"
Once again you looked up at Simon to see him looking back at you seriously.
"Yeah?"
"You're not too heavy."
You wanted to argue differently, but before you could he cut you off.
"Not for me at least."
You had to look away, feeling a blush climb your cheeks.
"Thanks Simon."
"Hn."
Edit;
Why wasn't Soap really talking in the gym scene? Because I imagine Goggles said something kind of out of pocket that left him reeling for a minute. She is no better than a man some days and I love her for it.
Also this isn't my favorite piece but I wanted to introduce Goggles with her calling the boys out for being dumb, because that is just so her.
As always I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to drop an ask about anything.
#military program spouse#cod#simon x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon x thimble#john soap mactavish
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@lara-legomonkiekid
💜:Hey! Remember Your ChooChoo Charles Post 1 and 2?Can you do the Destined One Wukong and Black Myth Wukong in that? Please?
YES THE GENDERBEND PART 3 YOU ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩
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(BMW Wukong) Wukong had been getting a lot of complaints from all her monkey subjects about a giant red spider on the other side of the mountain. Their was a spider who was creepy and loud and kept Scaring the baby monkeys, Wukong quickly grew annoyed and went to deal with the problem herself. She flew to the end of the Edge looking for this so-called spider, and boy was she shocked at first she thought they were overreacting, but then she saw the spider that was described to her. What genuinely creeps her out the most is that the spider just sat in the web smiling at her. Wukong paled slightly, but she wasn't deterred by the large spider. She worked for weeks to get rid of it, from using herbs like peppermint spiders hate to actually decluttering and cleaning FFM and splashing Vinegar, but nothing worked at all. Wukong was stumped on how to get rid of the giant red spider She even considered squishing it entirely, but something is telling her that wouldn't be the best idea. Except one day as she brainstorm a way to get rid of the spider, she heard a voice.
(???) CHARLES!!!!!!!!
Wukong froze the voice sounded like a male, and also who's Charles??? But what also surprised her was the spider moved from its web and went to where the voice was, Wukong followed and saw a male monkey glaring at the train
(???) There You are Charles I was looking everywhere for you😠
(Charles)😙😥
(???) Look I'm not mad, I was just worried.Come on let's go home😒😮💨
Before you can leave Wukong came up and demanded an explanation on to who you are and why was your pet was on her mountain
(M/N) the name is Y/n L/N and Charles is not a pet, he's my friend and he got lost from my forest a few weeks back And i've been looking all over for him, So would you be so kind as the move You're fat ass out of our way we need to get home😠
You then literally pushed Wukong, whose jaw was on the floor with a blush and slight nose bleed, a sexy monkey man just insulting her to her face without fear. All of a sudden, having charles around wouldn't be as such a bad idea, and charles thinks so too😉😉😉
(Destined one) She and Bajie were taking a short cut to the next village over but the destined one felt something off, as she kelp her gaurd up and made sure to protect Bajie.
(Fem Bajie) Careful child thier is something very...unnerving about this fog
They two women walked through the fog of the forest until their was a soft whistle and the destined one grabbed her, staff and looked to see something charging directly at the two women and her and Bajie got ready for the potential assault........Until it stopped
the fog revealed a large.......Red.......whistling spider as it stopped Directly in front of the two women and what what made them both pale was the fact that the spiderwas actively smiling at them. You think with all the scary and disgusting creatures and demons They would be a little more jaded to the situation, But the spider just freaked them out that much especially the destined one.
(???) Charles did you eat them yet?!
Bajie and the destined one saw a male monkey walking up to the two women looking a bit frustrated, Making the destined one blushed at you but Bajie.....
(Fem Bajie) THE HELL YOU MEAN EAT US??😠
(M/N) THE NAME IS Y/N L/N AND THIS IS MY SPIDER CHARLES WE PROTECT THIS FOREST AND YOUR TRESPASSING😡!!!!!
It wasn't long before an argument broke out between you and the short pig Lady meanwhile the destined one was blushing up a storm as she continued to stare at you, unfortunately CHARLES was paying attention And mischief is insured😉
FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🚂
#monkey king netflix#monkey king reborn#monkey king x reader#nezha reborn#monkey king hero is back#lmk monkey king#x female y/n#black myth wukong#the destined one x reader#choo choo charles#genderbend au
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Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)
TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.
(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)
This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.
---------------
Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.
....
The kid is a surprise though.
Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.
There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.
The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.
The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.
He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.
A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.
At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.
Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.
Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"
The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."
Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.
"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."
He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.
The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.
"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.
The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.
Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.
The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.
Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."
#I have never seen Batman (2022) so really I'm just using battinson and crew as templates for my fic. but hey what else is new lol#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc fic#dpxdc au#dp x dc au#dpxdc fanfic#i dont know shit about detective work or true crime so forgive me for any bad terminology or incorrect procedure for how these things work#just a fun rough idea for how i imagined gordon's first meeting with nightingale goes LMAO. im sticking to the idea that danny doesn't#officially join the field for a *while* due to more than just health reasons. so his first appearances are brief and usually to give B smth#danny: im only here as express delivery for vader's little brother over there. yall stay safe tho.#bruce: *kill bill sirens bass-boosted* ohmygodwhatishedoinghere#batman: how did you get here... | danny: you have so many spare grappling hooks it was pr easy to just grab one and go#also danny is whispering on purpose because he doesn't have his ghost form to fall back on as a secret identity. so he *is* actually taking#extra steps to keep his identity safe. and people usually sound different when they're whispering. he also has personal beef with#office martinez despite the fact that they've never met. Danny's HEARD of his ass. he hATES his ass.#Martinez: *to batman* freak | danny: im going to Bite Him. | batman (reluctantly): hmr. please don't. | danny: im going for his shins#Martinez and Nightingale have this whole thing going on between the two of them. danny WILL slap a sticky note on Martinez's back that says#'asshole' on it and its the one spot square on his spine that martinez can't reach.#someone: why are you beefing with like. an actual 12 year old | martinez: HE'S A LITTLE RAT. THAT'S WHY. he's here to torment me#battinson: *did you grapple the whole way here* | danny: yah. it was kinda fun. i would've gotten here faster but i kept having to stop#battinson: *hnnn* im driving you back | danny:.. are you sure? | battinson already pulling him out of the room: y e s#i've been thinking about this for literally WEEKS. what did bruce forget? good question! i'll figure that out if or when i get to this#danny has Issues behind the word freak so its like a mini beserker button for him regardless of who the word is aimed at lol. lmao#martinez calls batman a freak once while nightingale is within range and its just the doom ost as danny simply Disappears from sight#like oops. you are now. In Danger. rip couldn't be me.#blood blossom au
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