#what i do know is that it feels noticably weak which is Concerning to say the least

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

While Marcy miraculously staying in LA after the events of Amphibia """misses the point""" and """ruins the story""", my most self indulgent side NEEDS to see these three together in Highschool. I need Sasha being a bit of a mean girl especially to people who look at her girls weird. Yes she HAS spread people's secrets yes she HAS destroyed the self-esteem of countless boys yes she HAS gotten half the cheerleading squad kicked out while jumping through all the moral loopholes imaginable to be juuust on the side of chaotic good and not chaotic neutral. All because they said something mean about the time Marcy freaked out like a baby over a blackout, or because they mocked the food Anne brought from home. Need Anne being surprisingly popular, a big sports girly, seeing her two girls cheering for her during her games - one of them as an actual cheerleader, the other with big signs and maybe a trumpet or something. Need Marcy with her weak nerdy legs (and lingering nerve damage oops) asking Sasha for piggyback rides on the way home, discussing anime and FPS videogames with her while Anne carries her backpack, phone in her free hand, waiting for those two to be distracted so she can snap a picture.

I want them to be so uncommonly affectionate with each other in school, that everyone finds them kinda weird but their families have given very explicit Do Not Separate orders so the teachers let them be. They've been through a lot. Doesn't stop the cheerleading squad laughing at Sasha and questioning how come she'd rather hang out with her two kindergarden friends - one being cringe and nerdy and the other being dumber than a bag of rocks - instead of dating any of the cute boys that always ask her out, or how come she always cancels plans on them as soon as one of her girls calls. Sasha will make sure to teach them not to question her in the future.

The teachers quickly realize Marcy's potential but also notice she only hangs out with two girls who are pretty lazy and are barely passing their classes, and they wonder if they're using her to get good grades. Those two do seem to fit the stereotype of the jock and the mean girl taking a nerd under their wing to make them do their homework. Marcy does help them study, but she doesn't lose sleep over it - she knows they're smart and they'll figure it out, she's just there for a little encouragement. They just haven't seen the care and concern with which they hold her when her chest starts burning all of a sudden, how they race after her to the bathroom whenever she's feeling unwell, how protectively they cuddle her at sleepovers.

Anne has her own group of jock friends separate from Marcy and Sasha, and they get along fine, but they're beginning to think it's odd that she turns down every boy that asks her out, while lighting up like a flower in the sun whenever she gets a call from one of her girls. They ask her about it at one point, and all she says is "I don't really think I want a boyfriend. These two already take enough of my time", with a fond smile and a tender tone of voice that might make you think there's more to it if you had any idea of the concept of consensual non-monogamy, or lesbians. But you're a teenage boy so what you think is more along the lines of "wow they seem like very good friends".

[talkorsomething]

Convinced there is something wrong with my right foot because WHY can it not hold me in a plie

...in other news, roommate's flag is now availible for use! It's weighted differently... it feels lighter, but, my tosses are the exact same, so who knows.

At least it wasn't gone a whole week! Only ... four days....

[deadsetobsessions]

He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

[iceunhie]

HEART TO HEART — aventurine

premise ⁠☆ the five times aventurine bares his heart out to you, and the one time it works in his favor (or, in which aventurine says he loves you, in his own little ways.)

a/n ⁠☆ lovesick aventurine, i repeat super lovesick aventurine this is not half-assed, reader is the same reader from make a bet !!

The first time Aventurine opened up to you, he thinks that you looked like what starlight could be in human form.

He speaks your name like a victory falling upon his lips, a measured weight in its cadence. Aventurine relishes in the way you look alert, placing your attention on him (and him alone), sticking to his side like the faithful subordinate that you are.

He's come to learn that you don't exactly do friends—you are the very image of professionalism, never crossing the lines you shouldn't cross; and if he’s not careful, you could disappear at the slightest touch, just like starlight. (Would it kill you to stay just for him?)

“Have I ever told you that you look prettier when you smile?”

You pause from your game, looking up from the chessboard you and your co-worker, boss, and give him a look that one can truly only enjoy if they were either a masochist or someone who enjoyed another's disgust of them. “About 25 times now, Aventurine.”

“You've been counting? I didn't know you loved my praise that much.”

“Does every word that comes out of your lips lack sense, or is it just me?”

“Haha, it's just you.”

“Lucky me.” you roll your eyes. Aventurine's eyes melt, like butter in the sun.

Sometimes he feels the urge to always compliment you—because this is the only way for you to keep your eyes on him, to only look at him, and Aventurine has always loved looking at your eyes.

(If he kept looking, would he convey his heart to you?)

You scrunch up your face. Cute. “What?”

“Nothing.” Fondness bleeds from within him, the Kakavasha of old seeping into the cracks of his hollow shell. Aventurine plays gambles, risks death, yet this feeling of elation is something that triumphed in all of that.

He wonders if you notice; if you know that his honeyed words are genuine, as genuine as a liar like him can be. Aventurine wonders if you can tell that every poke and prod hides the underlying meaning of desperation—the words he can never bring himself to say because he thinks he's far too unworthy (for you). Still…

“I hope you know that it's true.” Just this once, he’ll let you see, just this once. “I mean it. You look prettier when you smile.”

Just this once, Aventurine thinks. He’ll bare his heart to you just this once. It's a gamble, a risk; a gamble he wants to risk.

And indeed, perhaps this is what Gaiathra’s blessing is for.

He sees you bristle like a cat, so wary—but he sees the flush coating your cheeks, reaching well up to the tips of your ears, and he knows he's won. Checkmate. “That's such a lame compliment. Is that best you executives can do?”

“Mm, wouldn't you like to know?” (To love is such an unpredictable thing.)

Aventurine may be a liar, but Kakavasha isn't, because Kakavasha strung together his remains in hopes of perceiving you.

In hopes of loving you.

—

Aventurine has only three words to describe himself: loser, liar, and murderer.

He can think of other words too, like Sigonian, IPC lapdog, coward, unworthy… a plethora of ugly, demeaning, visceral words— it makes his throat bubble with acid, coiling ang churning under the weight of his own existence. Disgusting.

There's another, too. Greedy. He's greedy. Whether as Kakavasha or Aventurine, the hunger to consume all lingers fresh in his mind. The strong takes all, and the weak is left to suffer. It's a need that knows no end, embittering all he cherished, cherishes. Like an iron chain upon his neck. He's greedy for solace, freedom; death, and—

“Aventurine, are you okay?” you.

How truly fortunate he is to behold your expression, when your concern is as slim as the chances of a collision of planets; when the expressive range of your emotions towards him range from either exasperation or irritation.

His smile feels rotten today, unbearably sweet. The smile of a thief. A liar. A Sigonian. “Are you worried about me?”

“You…” the traces of care don't slip from your expression despite the annoyance that betrays your tone. “Be serious here—you haven't been sleeping, have you? What is it? Is Sir Diamond assigning you yet another impossible mission?”

“No. Nothing of the sort, my friend.” His voice is flat. He doesn't know what's more agonizing. Knowing you care (and always have cared) for him, or knowing that he's making you go through all this trouble just to care for him.

He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “It's just a minor upset, don't worry.”

(How could you even care about someone like him? Is this love? Care? How could you look at him like he's worthy of being perceived? He is a liar, a cheat, a coward.)

He doesn't want to be indebted to you. Rather, he doesn't want you to see him; vulnerable, weak. Allowing you to freely enter his study as he's buried under piles of duty bound work just to come across one of the rare times where he's just Kakavasha—alone, weak, and fickle.

(Because as Kakavasha, Aventurine cannot hide his yearning for you, for deceit is unworthy of you; just like he is for you.)

Worst of all, Aventurine feels that if you see him, you’ll find out just how ugly he truly is. You'd slip away from him, like starlight. Out of reach; never to be seen again.

(Humans cannot survive without the light. Aventurine is starting to understand why.)

“Then I'll get you something to eat at least, so you can-”

“No, wait.” He speaks your name like a plea, and you stay. Relief floods through his senses.

Aventurine thinks that perhaps because of the vulnerability he's exposed, you've even become softer. Because why else would you look like that, looking at him like he's worth something? “What is it, Aventurine?”

“Can you stay by my side?” There's a crack in his voice that he wishes to hide, but you don't mind anyway. “Just this once.” Please.

A part of him hurts, having to beg. It reminds him all too much of days when the commodity code on his neck defined the crux of his existence; it is all he will be, will continue to be, all he is allowed to be. But Aventurine is no longer Kakavasha; hiding away from the world.

“...Okay.” Aventurine’s heart throbs when he sees your concerned expression. You know better than to ask questions, something he deems both a boon and a bane. “I'll stay. As- As much as you want.”

Why is he just like a fool whenever he's with you?

They say that to covet what must not be coveted is one’s downfall, and Aventurine is no different. His eyes trail over your form, every inch of the stardust that make you. “Thank you. Really.”

Aventurine has only three words to describe him: liar, loser, and murderer. There may be others, but this defines the very tapestry of his lamentable existence, from the moment he was brought forth upon the world; that of which no longer exists, dissolving like the sand of Sigonia’s deserts.

“Don't thank me, Aventurine. Just—get some rest. I'll be there when you wake up.”

“Nn. You're too kind. Should I double that paycheck of yours next month?”

He can hear you scoff, that bit of mirth you let slip reinvigorating him, sustaining him. “....Sweet dreams, Aventurine.”

And if Aventurine strains his mind enough, deludes himself enough; he can hear you say in a voice that's tender, warm; like the warm embrace of his sister, honeyed Avgin spilling from her lips. Brimming with love. Brimming with care.

‘May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you,’

Aventurine is a Sigonian lapdog, an unfettered gambler. He needs no tears, for there will be none to shed in his victory. He has never lost, and sees no need to shed tears for something that he will never experience. (His hand still shakes, betting on his life.)

‘keeping your blood eternally pulsing.’

He feels your fingers brush against the strands of his hair, taking off his glasses. Aventurine stills. Kakavasha falls, full of love, loving you.

‘…may your journey be forever peaceful,’

He watches you, staying by his side; and Aventurine can't help but add another name to define him.

‘and your schemes forever concealed.’

A fool. (a lover.)

Two system hours later, Aventurine wakes to the scent of lavender scented candles and a blanket covering his body, with the paperwork neatly handled, your writing scribbled on some of the pages.

Get well soon.

—

Envy is a face Aventurine has long grown accustomed to seeing.

He saw it as Kakavasha; the look others give when they see his eyes, when they look at his profile. As Aventurine, he sees it in the eyes of space traders as they gaze upon his wealth, how the eyes of others fall onto him as he walks past.

Others get consumed by it, others deny it; Aventurine embraces it. He knows the feeling of having nothing and wishing he could have things others can have with little effort.

But the fact that he also wears its mask is ironic, especially given the subject of his envy.

The third time Aventurine bares his heart out to you, it had been an accident.

He shouldn't be jealous, envious of those who get to help you with the IPC’s missions. It is the right, sensible thing to do; because you make him feel illogical, unable to comprehend in the haze of longing.

(Perhaps lovesickness isn't too far off a word.)

This is why you make him break free of his self-imposed apathy at seeing you off. Aventurine checks the file you'd be heading off to, letters in pristine print along with his signature, an indication of his approval. Pier Point. The name besides yours that indicate that you will be travelling together burns him like scalding iron, stinging like a brand upon his skin. Something green and uncomfortable in him roars.

In a sense of uncharacteristic recklessness and perhaps brought upon by his longing; Aventurine ends up seeing you off.

“I'll get going now- Aventurine….?” your words falter when you watch as your co-worker strides toward you, terribly fast. “I thought you weren't coming to see me.”

“I can't have my dearest friend leave without seeing their handsome colleague’s face.” he says, like a liar. Small mercies to his ability to divert his inner feelings—and to not think about the fact that seeing you makes his heart throb in an ache no hunger can satiate.

You scoff, and thankfully you don't seem that irritated. If anything, you're in a good mood today. Even let him see the way your head tilts to bite back a smile. “How fortunate of me then.”

(He is.)

“Extremely.” he calls your name like a wager, seeking an answer. “How long are you going to be away this time?”

“Almost a month, maybe. I was told that since the Pier Point Incursion, many of those under your department have been stationed to help sustain the damage.”

“...I see. My well wishes to you then, friend. Seems you've got your work cut out for you.”

He's sulking, and you can't help but laugh. Like a golden retriever. “Why so glum? Don't tell me you'd miss me.”

And for all his grace at maintaining his carefully crafted mask, Aventurine's whole world stops when he hears the sound. “How could anyone ever not miss you?”

You pause mid-laugh. Aventurine feels his face heat. He slipped up. Again, because of you. Because you always made him feel as though the universe could stop and end with you; and that this rotten hunger that gnawed at his bones might just be that he cared for you far too much for his own good.

…And now he felt like he wanted to fall back into a sandpit and hide there forever. “Is that what you think, Aventurine?”

The way you say his name is so intoxicating. It sounds hesitant, seeing through him in an instant.

“Maybe.” He can't look at you right now, or else he'll imagine it—how could you ever feel the way he feels for you? When you were you and he was… him. “I'm afraid I've been too reliant on my closest colleague.”

“Then come with me next time.” you look at him as though he'd break at any moment; tender. There's something else, too. “If you'd miss me that much.”

You flash him a cheeky, lovely smile, and Aventurine loves, loves, and loves.

How unfair you are, capable of reducing him to bits; bringing him to your light and making his heart set off like fireworks in the night.

For now, he will be Aventurine—he could never resist such a tempting offer, not when its weight was far more valuable than any treasure of all.

He smiles, business-like in nature, one used to deceive, to lie. But Aventurine—Kakavasha smiles in fondness, in adoration. “It would be my pleasure.”

—

Aventurine has always thought that the space in his heart is empty because it was meant to be.

Because he is not worthy of feeling—he is a tool to be used; every part of him taken away and exploited away by others at their whim. In short, he is his best bargaining chip at any stability in his life.

“Aventurine, you’ll catch a cold if you keep forgetting to remove your coat.”

But you don't think that way, and it confuses him, to say the least. Like a shooting star, traces of your existence are specks in his life that have become far too important for him to let go.

Whether it be indulging in his whims of poker, allowing him to see the sight of your expressions in embarrassment and resignation, or the subtleties that have led him to believe (at least, he hopes to believe) that you do care.

And each time, Aventurine embeds your name into his heart even further, dreams of you in the far corners of his heart reserved only for the dead he needed to bury. His feelings, his family, and this growing attachment to you that became too difficult to hold back.

Even now, as you hand him a towel and take his wet coat out of the way, Aventurine doesn't know if this is a blessing or a curse. You are always like this—overwhelmingly blinding, tethering himself to you without warning with your compassion. “I won't get sick.”

“Uh huh.” your eyebrows raise, and you take him inside. “That’s what all the people who get sick after being soaked in the rain say.”

“Well, aren't you just charming.”

“Thanks, I'm told it's one of my defining qualities.”

He laughs, genuine. You're probably the only one to be able to bring out this part of him. “Such an angel you are.”

“Yes, yes, very much.” You smile with faux sweetness, though Aventurine's heart stutters anyway. “Stop patronizing me and dry off already.”

“Alright, no need to get so fussy.” he throws up his hands in surrender, and he waits until you leave his quarters, strides measured as you give him privacy to change.

Aventurine wonders if you know just how much he loves you. Because he knows he does.

Recently, Kakavasha has come to a dangerous conclusion.

Perhaps the reason the space in his heart is empty was because you had been dictated to fit in it, and that Aventurine knows he’d never want you to leave.

—

Grief haunts Aventurine like a ghost, an old friend. Anguish whispers in Kakavasha’s ears and dictates its path to be his destiny.

But love comes in the form of Aventurine’s adoration for you.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to die?”

“No.”

A lie. Aventurine has always had a morbid, twisted curiosity of death. Death is the earliest lesson taught to him, among the lessons of Mama Fenge and the cruel acts of the Katicans. Death is his companion, a reminder that his life is merely defined by his usefulness, his luck.

“Why are you asking?” It is a mundane question, spoken atop the glamourous balcony as you and him look down at the glittering streetlights in Penacony below, watching the people of the dreamscape live the life their reality never brought them.

“No reason. Just… I wondered.” You hum, and Aventurine notes the miniscule shiver of your body, the lowering of your gaze; you're thinking about something again. (He wonders if you'd let him listen to what you want to say.) “What death might be like in this dreamscape.”

An underlying feeling of tension. You know what Aventurine's been up to. What he's been searching for in order to act out the IPC’s plan. Though it infuriates you to know he's doing this to himself, you're powerless to do anything about it. There is a wall between you that Aventurine refuses to cross.

Instead, his silent question comes in the form of his coat draped around your back. There's no motion of rejection from you, which makes him feel nice—even if it's just for a while. “Thank you.”

You didn't need to thank him. Aventurine knows that he'd do anything for you anyway even if you don't ask a thing. But you do anyway, because you were lovely and blinding; and he yearns to grasp at even a single wisp of your reality.

“For what it's worth,” Aventurine says, the characteristic lilt of amusement in his voice gone, replaced with something authentic, “I wouldn't want you to die. Such a thing would be unfortunate for someone with lots of promise in the economic field.”

You glance at him with a funny look, exasperated but not surprised. “Well, I'm glad you think so highly of me...?”

He cringes at that, huffs out a weak ‘naturally’ as he stares out at the distance. The wall between you weakens.

“And, well, the sentiment is the same for me. I don't want you to die either.” you say, and the glow of the streetlights illuminate your face, and Aventurine's eyes don't leave your presence, wanting to burn the sight to his irises, to his pupils; never letting a fiber of your being go unloved. Retaining you and keeping you close when his hands cannot.

(If only you knew.)

“I wouldn't go down without a fight.” he says, and Aventurine takes you in—the ways in which you gaze upon the scenery below, watching how you chuckle as you hear the loud countdown to the fireworks, the way your voice has always been the light, his adoration for you a stone to grab on in his gamble in life.

There's silence. Loving you is like loving the way the air fills your lungs as you breathe, because loving you was as natural as breathing in the sandy dunes of the place he once called home, as natural as the Avgin that filled his ears, and loving you is everything to him, for Kakavasha was a dreamer, and you are his dreams personified.

Loving you reminds him of home, because you have burrowed your way into his bones, his lungs and his skin, and Kakavasha fills himself with your existence and lives. Loves.

He speaks your name like it's the last thing he could ever do, and that through you, Kakavasha lived, and Kakavasha loved you.

And like always, it's there. Your attention, on him, as he always knows it will be (and as he always hopes it shall be.) as you gaze at him like he's the brightest star in the sky. Or maybe it's the light refracting in your eyes. Aventurine doesn't really care which. “What is it?”

The wall between you two disappears completely, and Kakavasha begins anew, his heart undone.

When Aventurine finally bares his heart to you for the fifth time as the burst of fireworks ricochet across the skies, he hopes those three words will reach you.

bonus: the one time aventurine bares out his heart to you, and he gets rewarded.

Aventurine’s hair has always reminded you of the color of gold.

It is the color of the sunlight as it gently basks against your skin, the color of expensive champagne the man next to you so favors, and the color of the edges of his sunglasses.

(You've always been fond of yellow.)

“Aventurine?” you say, tone light, urging him to wake up. He's truly relentless, adamant on sulking as though his most valuable treasure would slip away from his grasp like you are right now because you were running late. “Can you let me get up now?”

“Good morning to you too.” purple eyes greet your form and an arm winds itself around your waist, pulling you even closer. “And unfortunately for you, I'm afraid I don't want to.”

“I'll be late. You know Jade hates tardiness-”

“-And I would be devastated to not have my lover by my side and leave me heartlessly.” Aventurine feigns, the falsity of his hurt not affecting you at all.

“You…” You frown at him, and Aventurine kisses the crease of your eyebrows of your face, enjoying the way your cheeks flush the like burn of alcohol down one’s throat. “You're so insufferable.”

“Mhm, whatever helps you let out that ire of yours.” he looks at you like he would the most precious of ores, the most valuable of cards—Aventurine looks at you unabashedly, wholly, in affection.

“Will you ever let me be on time?”

“Would you ever let me stop loving you?” he presses a kiss to your palm, tender as his hand traces circles on your palm. Aventurine already knows the answer.

“Thats two completely different things.” you sigh, but it's exasperatedly fond, and Aventurine’s heart skips a beat. He finds his answer when you press a chaste kiss upon the edge of his mouth. “Don't answer a question with a question.”

“It's a great conversation tactic, though. And to answer your question, no, I don't think I will.”

“Kakavasha.” You warn. His name on your lips feels a little like salvation, and Aventurine feels a warm ache fill his stomach, blooming into something not so dissimilar to devotion.

With you, there is no Aventurine of Strategems, no Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts. All that remains is Kakavasha, one that loves you, and one that you love too.

Aventurine laughs, and the die is cast. “Let's make a bet then.”

“Ugh, not another one of those.” you groan, but you make no notion to refuse anyway.

“Sway my heart enough to let you go.” he smirks, cunning as ever. You roll your eyes, though it's nothing if not affectionate, determined glint shining in your eyes just like starlight.

“Oh, that's way too easy. Deal.”

Recently, he's come to a conclusion; Aventurine thinks that if it's with you, no gamble is worthier than this.

(With you, Aventurine is whole, and he is home.)

end notes im gonna kms i hate the ending like actually hate it this fic is the product of boundless hatred and the urge to never show it to the light ever but here i am

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[shotmrmiller]

when the video on your phone freezes for a heartbeat, just a fraction of a second, you're jolted back to reality.

and then it begins to vibrate in your hand. you stare at the screen, eyes squinting against the unforgiving glow that pierces the darkness you're enveloped in. (had been, anyway.)

in the corner of it says 2:03 am. witching hour. when the world holds its breath. everyone except for him. as always.

the same man who couldn't fit you into his meticulously curated world for longer than a night; a world where emotions were ruthlessly shoved into a cardboard box and labeled non-essential. (yet dogs you endlessly.)

the phone continues to ring, vibration buzzing like a mosquito in your ear. you run through your very limited options. ignore it and you'll have to suffer with him having nothing better to do than cause you to lose sleep because you need the alarm to go off in the morning or pick up and let him prod at old wounds with his gloved fingers.

(fingers you wish were curling inside you again, pad of his thumb rubbing on your aching-)

this isn't the first time he's disrupted your peace using an unknown number and it isn't the first time you answer despite knowing you shouldn't.

maybe in another life you'll have better self control.

(your masturbation session will have to wait.)

before you even get a word out, he's already cutting you off. "pet. didn't wake ya, did i?"

insufferable fucking man. "you know what time it is. what do you want, Simon? here i thought blocking both your number and johnny's would get the point across." you hope your tone conveys the weariness better on his end than it did on yours.

he merely hums, a disinterested noise that ripples through the phone. you're tempted to hang up but you know the script. he'll just call. again. and again. and again.

"were ya watchin' our video again?" heat spreads up from your neck to the soft of your cheeks. there's no way he knew what you were doing before picking up. pure mortifying happenstance.

"i was." a tight breath warms the inner side of your wrist. he's always been a straight shooter which on him is both a strength and a flaw, and right now, with the way his voice carries over the phone, it's your weakness. good thing he's not here to notice the way you squeeze your thighs together.

"'nd it got me to thinkin' on how sweet you'd been then, bleary eyed 'nd pliant beneath me," your lower stomach burns white-hot, knowing the exact type of filth he likes to talk when he's in this kind of mood, "how thin i had your pussy stretched 'round me."

your core pulses at the memory of him resting against the firm seal of your womb, his work-worn palm pressing your stomach, as if trying to feel himself from the outside. (maybe he could, maybe he couldn't, you wouldn't know. not when he had you sitting on his lap as his own personal cock sleeve for longer than you deemed necessary. you'd been incoherent then.)

with liquid heat flowing through your veins, prickling at your fingertips, burning behind your eyelids, doing what he says next had never been easier.

"take your shorts off 'touch tha' pretty pussy f'me."

(you'd disconnected all the cameras in your room except for the one you didn't know was there. he's gotta keep a sharp eye on what's his, yknow? of course not, how could you? as far as you're concerned, he's just coincidentally calling when your hand is weaving downward to rub the little bundle of nerves between your legs with a home video he'd recorded of him fucking you stupid one tipsy night playing on your phone.)

[nastyaromatherapy]

ok but what about ethan landry stalking the reader as ghost face for a while and him finally sneaking in to her house one night cause he can’t hold back. y/n she knew that ghost face was stalking her and she also knew that it was ethan so she puts a pretty lacy nightgown on and waits for him. he finds out that she knows because when he walks into her room she gets up from her bed and he pins her to a wall and she says something like ‘i want you so bad ethan’ so he fucks her till she can’t think or speak.

(maybe some praises like good girl and pretty girl but you definitely don’t need to write those in if those aren’t your thing)

ALSO i just love your writing so much like omg i even read some of your other fanfics for different characters even though i don’t want them cause i just love the way you write 😭

Ghostface's Good Girl (18+)

Your stalker, Ethan, couldn't hold back one night and went inside your house to take what was his.

pairing - stalker!ethan landry x reader

one shot length, 3.0k+ word fic

warnings: PIV, dom ethan, creampie, praising, minor slapping and choking, finger sucking, BJ, slight corruption, teensy size kink, ghostface ethan, whore reader, name calling, orgasm control

Ethan Landry loved you. However, it was all parasocial. You barely knew him. The only thing you knew was that he was Chad's roommate. You saw him occasionally when you were over at Chad's place.

“Hey, y/n,” he would wave to you at a weak attempt at getting closer to you. It was awkward, especially since at the time, he didn't know you and Chad were fuck buddies. He had always liked you and thought you were really hot.

You on the other hand, had never even thought about it. He looked so innocent, so sweet, and Chad was like his older brother. It'd be weird to screw with your fuck buddy's younger brother.

For Ethan, hearing the two of you fuck at night was both a blessing and a curse. He reveled in hearing your moans and begs, biting his lip to keep quiet as he touched himself to your sounds. He hated how it was Chad fucking you, hated more how you were whoring around, knowing Chad wasn't the only guy you were messing with at the time.

He knew that if you were his, he'd put you in your place. You wouldn't be caught with other guys because he'd be the only guy you'd ever need. And once you and Chad broke things off, that's when he started to stalk you.

I mean, before then, he would keep some of your belongings you left at his place as keepsakes and souvenirs, but only now would he begin what he'd label as stalking.

He started visiting the coffee shop you worked at more, too afraid to order anything or say hi; he'd just sit in a corner on his phone, scrolling through your instagram. When your shift would finish, at seven pm, he'd rush over to your place, arriving way before you did.

Straight after work you'd get into the shower, which pissed him off. As sick as he was, he knew he couldn't enter your house. There were no windows in your shower, obviously, and you'd keep your curtains closed.

Oh, when you finished, though, he'd watch through your bedroom window in ghostface attire as you dried and lotioned your legs, so badly wanting to feel your soft skin against his.

Everything about you was so delicate. You were so softspoken, even your whines which he heard through thin walls were pretty and angelic. He needed to know how it'd feel to corrupt you, and keep you as his pretty doll.

And he'd do this for nights, the same routine. Every night he'd watch you get out of the shower and get ready for bed, and it took everything in him to not just break in and take what was his.

Ethan Landry's secret was no secret though, which you found adorable. Did he really think you wouldn't notice him sneaking looks at the cafe? Did he really think you wouldn't notice his car parked in a confused neighbors driveway, every night you came home? Both you and him expected you to be scared, concerned, and disturbed. But in reality, you loved the idea of Ethan obsessing over you, and following you around like a puppy. You found it cute how he couldn't muster up the courage to just talk to you, and ended up resorting to stalking.

You tried amping him up, often discarding worn panties in the bin at night. Was the shuffling and tipped over trash raccoons? No, it was Ethan. At first. you just found it cute, like when a little boy likes an older girl that's way out of his league. It was only after a month that you started to question what being with Ethan would actually entail.

Would he by kind, sweet, and gentle, massaging your feet? Or would he be jealous, and violent? The thoughts kept you up at night. Oh, and the day you almost “caught” him, and he dashed so quickly he left his dainty Nancy Loomis mask, you'd say you were in love too. Your stalker, Ethan Landry, was ghostface. That only made things more exciting.

Day after day, it got harder and harder for him to not just go inside. After time, you decided to leave your door unlocked. He noticed, and it confused him. You'd never changed your routine before. Then he started to ponder, did you know?

One night, you changed your routine drastically. You oiled your legs, discarding the lotion you used to use. You dressed into a lacy lingerie slip, unusual since you usually wore a victoria pajama set.

He was already growing hard in his pants, his mask concealing his needy eyes. He was desperate to feel you, and needed to take a step inside. The stairs creaked as he walked up them onto your porch, and he hesitated before laying a hand on your doorknob. He sharply inhaled before twisting it, making his way inside.

You noticed his steps on the ground, due to his huge boots, and waited anxiously for him to enter your room. He slowly scurried his way through your house, finally opening up the door to your room.

He entered with the iconic ghostface head tilt, and your breath hitched. You slowly stood up, trying to hold back your blush for the masked killer who stood inches higher above you. Like lightning he pinned you against your poster covered wall by your throat, his hand easily wrapping around it. You left your mouth agape and choked a little, staring deeply into the dark puddles where the mask covered his eyes.

He noticed how you easily and willingly complied and softened his grip, letting you quickly let out short breaths. “I know it's you, Ethan,” you whispered breathily, and his face contorted- although you couldn't see, into a writhe of concern. “I want you so bad,” you whined, and your hands made way to under his mask, lifting it up to expose his face, curls frizzy since the mask wasn't lined with satin.

He suspected you knew, but he never actually thought his suspicions would be correct. He digressed, however, and continued his concentrated activities. “And you can have me,” he spoke, his voice low and seductive. “But know that your compliance labels you as mine. Do I make myself clear?” You swallowed and nodded, leading him to lean into your ear, his steady breaths making the hairs on your neck stand up.

“Do I make, myself clear?” He repeated through gritted teeth, squeezing your neck tighter as he spoke, before slowly diluting while awaiting a response. “Yes, sir,” you choked out almost inaudibly, but he caught it.

“Good girl,” he cooed as he got even closer and toyed with the straps of your dress. When he towered above you, your head was tilted upwards to meet his eyes; his lanky yet broad figure was just as frightening as alluring.

“You're usually so talkative in class,” he whispered cunningly, dragging his gloved finger along your jawline. “Why so silent now?” He asked, alluding to your sudden meek behavior.

You didn't answer, but when you saw him continue to stare like a deer in headlights, you whispered, “I just want to be good for you.” He clicked his tongue and journeyed his hand up, from your jaw to your cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. With your mouth slightly agape, his thumb slowly shifted closer and closer to your lips, before finally making contact. You inhaled through your mouth slightly, mimicking a silent gasp.

His finger grazed your soft lips, lightly tapping it for you to open even wider, requesting entry. “Open,” he ordered when you didn't get the message. Once you furtherly gaped your mouth, he gave a nod of approval before sliding his thumb inside. Not needing to be told twice, you didn't hesitate to clamp around his finger, sucking it lightly.

“That's it,” he whispered as you hollowed your cheeks around his thumb. “Just like that.” You moaned slightly around his finger, leading him to groan in response. The interaction made you so desperate and painfully wet, and you squirmed uncomfortably, your thighs awkwardly trying to gain friction on their own.

He noticed this and smirked, finding it cute how impatient you were being. With his hand still on your cheek, he stroked it gently, the skin so silky and the peach fuzz so soft. He was about to ask a question, so he removed his thumb from your mouth since he expected an answer. “Are you gonna be my good girl tonight?” He asked huskily, making sure you knew what you were getting yourself into, once more.

You nodded, which wasn't enough for Ethan, who wasn't reluctant to strike your cheek when you didn't answer, leaving a bright red mark. You cried in the form of a moan as his rough hand made contact with your dainty skin, finally realizing which Ethan you'd been fantasizing about you'd get tonight. A masked, violent, short-tempered killer. “Yes, sir,” you spoke.

He didn't feel you were ready for praise, yet, and he tossed you onto your bed, face forward. Your legs dangled off the edge, showcasing your tulle-trimmed socks. When you attempted to turn onto your back he laid his hand on it, keeping you in place. “Stay still,” he huffed, making you quickly do as told. He kneeled below your lowish platformed bed, flipping your dress up to expose you ass.

He leaned in, and you whined as you felt his hot breath against your almost exposed cunt. Your pretty white panties were still covering your pussy, although they were almost see through since they were so sopping. “God you're a slut, so fucking wet,” we muttered to himself as he hooked the gusset in his fingers, revealing your dripping sex.

He removed his gloves before sliding his fingers up and down your slippery folds, making you whine. “Ethan,” you whimpered, wretchedly grinding against his hand. He spit on your cunt, before licking a stripe down it, latching onto your clit. He groaned as he was living his dream of tasting you, hands spreading your cheeks apart for easier access.

“F-fuck,” you moaned as his tongue fucked your hole, kicking your legs a bit so you didn't get too overwhelmed. He chuckled when he noticed, making your lips flutter, slightly humiliated. Soft “ah's” left your lips, and they gradually grew louder and louder the closer you got.

You felt the warmth build up in your stomach as you grew more sensitive to each movement of his tongue as you neared the edge. “Ethan,” you sobbed. “’Gonna, cum,” you whimpered, and he responded by abruptly pulling away, edging you. You whined in disapproval at his absent tongue that was taken away without warning, wanting to cum so badly.

He laughed softly and stood, quick to pull you up with him by your hips. “I control when you cum,” he taught, making you nod before quickly remembering he disliked that. “Yes sir,” you whispered sweetly, your eyes large and doe. He smugly smirked at your response, “Good girl.” You loved the affection you seemed to gain from him.

“Now get on your knees,” he ordered as he removed his cloak, discarding it in a corner of your room. You kneeled below him, and he started to undo the buttons on his black slacks, pulling them down and kicking them off his ankles. He was left in his boxers, and your eyes couldn't pull away from his erection.

You started to venture your hands closer to his waistband, but for safe measure, you watched his eyes to see if he was okay with that. His eyes said nothing. That was extremely unhelpful. What you’d learned so far was that Ethan was often vague and not very talkative about what he wanted.

Noticing how he didn’t say anything and how he didn’t seem angry, you gripped his boxers, pulling them down to his ankles in a swift motion, revealing his erect cock. He gave a soft sigh as his dick was released and no longer confined.

He chuckled when he saw you contemplating whether or not to touch it, afraid of upsetting him. “This is the hardest you’ve ever gotten me,” he whispered perversely, smiling a little as he enjoyed this a lot. “Better than staring through windows, huh?” You asked, fighting your urge to just grab it and stroke him. He nodded and reached for his cock, stroking it gently.

“Open your mouth,” he spoke to you as he tapped the tip against your lips. You opened your mouth nice and wide to accommodate his girth, and he spoke words of approval, “That’s my pretty girl,” before sliding himself in.

Your mouth flooded with the smell and taste of him, making your eyes water a bit as it hit you so intensely. You hollowed your cheeks as you bobbed up and down the head, using your hand to stroke the base. He groaned, pushing into you a little further. “Fuckk.”

His curls covered his eyes as he looked down, watching you suck on his length, still wearing the cute nightie. When strands of hair covered your face, which made it harder for you to see him, you’d push them behind your ear, being loyal and giving your undivided attention to him. He loved when you moaned around his length, showing how much you enjoyed it.

Your mouth was warm and hot, and his cock relished in the higher temperatures that you engulfed him in. He threw his head back, absentmindedly thrusting forward ever so slightly, making you gag from time to time.

Your eyes were red as they burned with unshed tears, his scrotum feeling fuller and heavier the deeper in your mouth you took him. “God,” he moaned in a strained voice, feeling himself grow close. He didn’t want to cum yet, though, so he pulled out of your mouth.

You gasped for air as saliva dripped down your chin, feeling empty without his cock in your mouth. He smirked as he looked down at you and ordered, “Get on the bed.” You quickly hopped off your knees and crawled onto your mattress, and he was right behind you with a hand on your waist to help position you.

He clawed at your nightie before taking it off, pulling it up over your head. You were flipped onto your back, and he pulled your legs up so your feet were leveled with his shoulders. He pulled your panties off, leaving you completely bare underneath him.

“Please, Ethan,” you whined as he rubbed his cock up and down your wet slit, your cunt gaping, awaiting entry. He tilted his head at you, “Please what?” You swallowed and looked away, not answering him.

“Answer, bitch,” he fumed, placing his hand on your neck, squeezing your pipe ever so slightly. You lightly choked before attempting to speak, “P-please fuck me, Ethan.” He removed his hand from your neck and cockily smirked.

“Yeah? Does my slutty little princess need to be fucked by my cock?” He taunted, and you vigorously nodded in response.

Your breath hitched as he lined himself up with your entrance, and he threw his head back and inhaled before sliding in. “Fuck!” You yelped as he stretched you out so beautifully. Your legs trembled under him as he slowly started to thrust into you, his movements rhythmic.

“That’s it, take my cock,” he groaned, his hands moving to grip your soft hips. As he started to speed up, you couldn’t help but get louder. You turned your head around to try and hide your face, but he caught on.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice stern and demanding. You slowly turned your head back around, trying your best to suppress the faces he was fucking into you. He chuckled at the way your features contorted, especially when he went deeper.

Once he saw that your cunt was perfectly stretched around him, he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder to get a new angle. You were lifted off the mattress ever so slightly, as your leg didn’t reach that high naturally.

He started to fuck you roughly, his cock pistoning in and out of your starving cunt. “Ethan!” You screamed, which only made him needier. You could no longer suppress your moans now, as your heart was racing and your breathing was erratic. His hands clawed into your hips painfully, but you could only focus on the pleasure he was giving you.

“Do I do it better than Chad? I don’t even know why you wasted time on his lame ass; he didn't deserve someone as gorgeous as you. My pretty girl,” he groaned, each word getting whinier and whinier. “Yes, Ethan,” you cried, your toes curling. “You fuck me so much better than Chad; don’t stop, please.”

He gripped your hips so harshly that your ass was completely lifted off the bed. Seeing this, he picked you up entirely, slamming into you as you tried to hold on tight to him. “Fuck! Ethan!” You moaned as he took every inch of you.

“You’re mine,” he huskily whispered into your ear as he fucked the lights out of you. You nodded. “Yes, Ethan. I’m yours,” you moaned as you shut your eyes tightly, completely overwhelmed from the stimulation. “Can I cum?” You asked, and Ethan didn’t answer. His hands that were gripping your ass gave it a light smack, making you jump a little.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, going deeper, getting closer. “Please Ethan!” You repeated. “Please let me cum!” You whimpered as he tore your pussy apart. He couldn’t hold back anymore; your whines turned him on so much, and he buried himself in your cunt as he shot his load inside you. “Cum,” he whispered into your ear, and you wasted no time to release.

You screamed, and your legs vibrated as you came all over his cock, just as his warm cum filled your pussy. “Take all my cum, good girl.” After he calmed down, he put you back on the bed and joined you.

He laid on the bed and placed you on top of him, his hand reaching down to rub your sensitive clit. You moaned as he touched you, and then you moaned into his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you. His lips pressed against your pillowy ones, and from the way you whimpered into the kiss, he felt himself getting hard again.

“I want you to ride me, okay?” He asked, although it was meant as an order, not a question. “Yes, sir,” you obeyed. He ran his hand through your soft, untangled hair, giving you a peck. What you didn’t know right now was that you were now Ethan’s. You didn’t know before, but all this time he’d been training you to be his, to be his perfect fuckdoll. “Good girl.”

[luveline]

Babe congrats on quitting!!!

I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more

R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?

thank you!!

You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?” 

It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.” 

Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too. 

James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork. 

He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively. 

“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.” 

“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?” 

Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say. 

“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.

You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.” 

“What happened?” 

You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face. 

His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.” 

He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.” 

You frown at one another. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?” 

“No,” you mumble. 

“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again. 

“I’m consistently below average.” 

“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.” 

Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does. 

He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.” 

“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.” 

“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?” 

You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?

When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.

[bubblebbg]

❝𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞: 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧❞

Mizu x Reader

- Reader in this fic is of some sort of mixed or foreign descent, but this can also be interpreted as having any trait that would make them a pariah of sorts. Warning, not proofread lol. All spur of the moment.

When you found the blue eyed stranger laying bloody on a lonely street, you took her in. You keep her warm, fed, and with mends on her wounds. Mizu knows well that there are sacrifices to be made on her path. She doesn't know just how much they can sting.

Mizu can't quite pinpoint the most irritating part of the pain. The ache of broken bones, the sting of stabs and slices, the consistent ringing in her head; everything hurts, and she supposes that like every other injury, it's all par for the course. Small price to pay for revenge. She knew she'd have to rest at some point, but she didn't expect to be incapacitated, edging on consciousness for days. Every now and then there's a sensation like coolness on her forehead, or water at her lips.

It's on day three that she becomes lucid enough to realize someone's taking care of her. Her distrustful brain is immediately sounding alarms, but her body can do little to react in such a broken state. Mizu can do nothing but lie silent and weak on this futon, sipping medicines and soups when it's brought to her mouth and being patched, cut for cut, wound for wound.

The first thing she notices about you, her caretaker, is your eyes - eyes brimming with concern and care, eyes that catch every weakness of her flesh and seek to heal. She hears your whispers of "poor thing" and "I'll get you healed up in no time". And being Mizu, her first thought is...

"Why?"

She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but she doesn't rush to take it back. Why are you, a stranger, so willing to take care of her? Why are you expending your resources on a broken thing, a mistake that any other sane person would let rot in the street where they found it?

You only smile at her, and in such a way that makes her heart race. Gentle, patient, tentative. She doesn't like it one bit, the way it pulls at doors she's kept locked for years. Her eyes focus, taking in what you look like as you stand and ready yourself to leave the room.

"I don't need your pity!" She manages to choke out. It has you stopping in your tracks.

"It's," she coughs, sputtering on words, "It's because you're just like me, isn't it? You're different. A monster."

The look on your face is one of mild amusement, an eyebrow raised and the corners of your lips upturned. She's not sure if it's that or the confidence in your next words that makes her cheeks heat up.

"I am not a monster. Neither are you."

And you're gone, leaving her to deal with the weight you've left in her chest.

𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪

The days turn into weeks, the weeks into months. With so many parts impaired, it'd only make sense that healing would take this long. Most of all, it's your endless patience that surprises Mizu. When she reopens a wound by carelessly trying to train despite your cautions, you're there patching it up. When she expresses her frustration with not being able to take up the sword yet, you're there reassuring her that it'll all be fine in time. You're kind when she's haughty and sarcastic (which makes her feel guilty, and thus even more indignant), and this extends to others as well. She often sees you helping children or neighbors, anyone in need. You're loved in this town.

It makes her a bit irritated, seeing your kindness bestowed on others. At first she thinks it's because she sees weakness in your actions. Then she thinks it's jealousy - why are you, someone who would otherwise be an outcast like herself, so beloved by your town? How come it didn't turn out this way for her? But when she sees you cooking enough for the both of you and the family next door, stirring slowly as the food steams, she thinks to herself, god, they're even patient when they're cooking. And then it hits her.

She is jealous, but not in the way she thought. In the way that yearns for your priority, that seeks to be the only recipient of your sweet manners and loving nature.

It doesn't help that you've grown close, too close for her liking. There have been nights spent in each other's company, saying nothing but gazing at stars. There have been conversations in which you've both laughed, some in which you cried. Mizu's mind can't help but remind her that this isn't safe; the last time she opened her heart up, it returned battered.

But this - you - feel safe. You dedicated nearly three months to healing her body, all the while you had been patching up wounds the eye can't see.

"I'm leaving," she says meekly on a warm evening, the two of you sat in a field of grass overlooking your village. You look to her and she only stares forward. You suppose it's better than her leaving without telling you, but the pain is no lesser because of the thought.

You take a deep breath and exhale before answering, "I had a feeling."

There's a long silence between the two of you. It's your turn to watch the sun setting over the trees as Mizu looks at your expression, the hints of sadness in her eyes.

"Do you... do you really have to? You are welcome here, you know. You'll always have a home here with me."

The words have Mizu choking up and suppressing the sudden and unnerving urge to cry. What you've done to her in three months still astounds her.

"I do. You know I do. I was always going to have to leave."

Mizu is caught by another urge, the urge to take those words back when she sees streams on your cheeks. You sniffle and hiccup, and it's so much less pleasant than your usual smiling disposition. It hurts in the way no blade ever could.

The sun is disappearing, and she wills herself to stand. If she doesn't, she might never go. She turns to leave and you stand as well. She stops in her tracks when you tug on her sleeve. She faces you and you slowly, carefully bring a hand to the side of her cheek. When she doesn't flinch away, you lean in close. Your lips meet in a kiss that conveys words that neither of you have the power to say.

You pull back after a moment, your forehead pressed to hers and your eyes closed. Your voice is quiet, almost inaudible when you say your goodbye.

"Break my heart once by leaving. Do not break it again by dying."

She turns and leaves while your eyes are still closed. You open them to an empty field, your palm still wet with her tears.

[wilted-society]

playing with fire

pairings: mattheo riddle x reader

genre: fluff + angst

warnings: suggestive ending, cussing

— mattheo's flirtiness couldn't be held back. You decided you were fed up with it.

Hogwarts hummed with its typical vibrancy, the old stone corridors filled with the noise of students' chatter and sporadic laughter. Despite the lively surroundings, you were preoccupied with a recent confrontation with Mattheo. Your relationship, marked by a fiery mix of passion and intensity, had taken a toll on you, leaving you especially shaken and uneasy after this latest disagreement.

With a heavy heart, you strolled your way through the great hall. Stopping to sit down beside Pansy, who took notice of your unusual behavior.

"What's the matter? You usually sit next to Riddle?" Pansy questioned, seemingly oblivious but quickly realized as she noticed the tension between you two. "Oh.. Is it bad?" She whispered, to which you only replied with a weak nod.

On the other hand, Mattheo, who was sitted beside Theodore, looked your way for a moment and then went back to his food. Playing with, barely even eating any of it.

"What's happened? She usually sits right next to you." Theo furrowed his eyebrows, looking between you and Mattheo. Immediately noticing the tension. "I fucked up." was all Mattheo said, before turning back to his plate and played with his food. Theodore urged him to tell what was the reason, kept pestering him until he finally told Theo.

The fight had stemmed from a misunderstanding that quickly spiraled out of control. Mattheo had been spending more time with his Slytherin friends, particularly a girl named Cassandra, who had a reputation for being overly flirtatious.

Y/N had confronted Mattheo about it, her insecurities bubbling to the surface.

"Why do you keep spending so much time with Cassandra?" Y/N had demanded, her voice tight with jealousy. "She's all over you, and you don't seem to mind."

Mattheo had frowned, clearly taken aback by her accusation. "Cassandra's just a friend, Y/N. You're overreacting."

"Am I?" Y/N had shot back, her frustration growing. "It feels like you're pushing me away. Like you don't care about how I feel."

Mattheo's eyes had darkened with anger. "That's ridiculous. You're being paranoid. I can't have friends without you thinking the worst?"

The argument had escalated, each of them saying things they didn't truly mean. Mattheo had stormed off, leaving Y/N feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and regret. The wounds from their fight still stung, and she couldn't shake the feeling that their relationship was on shaky ground.

"Yeah you fucked up," Theodore patted Mattheo on the back, "better make it up to her then." Theo said before turning back to group, to which Mattheo sighed.

.

"I swear, Luna. That guy will be the death of me. He was basically eye-fucking that Cassandra, flirting with her like he doesn't have a girlfriend!" You ranted to Luna Lovegood, who was intently listening to you rambling.

Luna, perched on a windowsill with her legs crossed, watched you with her usual calm demeanor. Her big, silvery eyes were filled with empathy and a hint of concern. "That sounds incredibly frustrating, Y/N. Have you tried telling Mattheo how you feel?"

You stopped pacing and turned to face her, your frustration palpable. "I did, Luna. But he just brushed me off, saying I'm overreacting. It's like he doesn't even care how much it hurts."

Luna tilted her head, considering your words carefully. "Sometimes people act out in strange ways when they're dealing with their own insecurities. Mattheo might not realize how much his actions are affecting you."

You threw your hands up in exasperation. "Well, he needs to realize it, Luna! It's like he's purposely trying to get a reaction out of me. And it's working. I don't know how much more I can take."

Luna slipped off the windowsill and walked over to you, her movements graceful and serene. She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Maybe he's trying to provoke you because he's unsure about his own feelings. Or maybe he's testing the boundaries of your relationship. Either way, you deserve honesty and respect."

You felt a lump forming in your throat, and tears threatened to spill over. "I just... I love him, Luna. But this is tearing me apart. Seeing him with her, laughing and flirting like I'm invisible... it hurts so much."

Luna's expression softened even more, and she pulled you into a comforting hug. "Love can be very complicated, Y/N. But you are strong, and you deserve someone who makes you feel valued and secure."

You hugged her back, feeling some of your tension ease in her calming presence. "What should I do, Luna? I don't want to lose him, but I can't keep feeling like this."

Luna stepped back and looked into your eyes, her gaze steady and wise. "You need to have a serious conversation with Mattheo. Tell him exactly how his actions are making you feel. If he truly cares for you, he'll listen and make an effort to change. If he doesn't, then you need to consider what's best for your own well-being."

You nodded, wiping away a tear. "You're right. I need to be honest with him and with myself."

Luna smiled, a soft and reassuring expression that made you feel a little lighter. "And remember, you always have friends who care about you. You're never alone in this."

"Thank you, Luna. I really needed to hear that," you said, your voice steadier now.

"Anytime, Y/N. Let's go for a walk by the lake. The fresh air might help clear your mind and give you the courage you need to face Mattheo," Luna suggested, her hand still gently resting on your arm.

You nodded, grateful for her support. "That sounds like a good idea."

.

"Goodnight, Luna!" You bade your goodbyes to Luna, parting ways as you strolled through the winding corridors on your way to the Slytherin dungeons.

The dim torchlight illuminated the path ahead, and the castle seemed almost alive with its shadows and quiet reverberations.As you quietly strolled, you heard a voice call out your name.

"Y/N!" It was him—Mattheo Riddle. The same voice that always had the power to make your heart race, the one that whispered sweet nothings to your ear. But tonight, his voice only stirred up more anger and heartbreak.

You chose to ignore him and kept walking, determined not to give in. "Y/N! Please, can we talk through this?" he begged, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls as he hurried to catch up.

You paused and turned to face him, a cold glint in your eye. "You better be." You narrowed your eyes at him, still furious and heartbroken.

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, his dark eyes filled with a mix of desperation and regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I didn’t realize how much it would hurt you.”

Your heart wavered slightly at the sincerity in his voice, but you quickly regained your resolve. “Actions speak louder than words, Mattheo. You flirt with other girls and brush me off. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

He took a step closer, his presence encroaching on your space. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—I’ve been dealing with my own insecurities, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

You felt a surge of frustration and sadness, but deep down, you still cared for him. “You have a funny way of showing it, Mattheo.”

He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “I’m sorry. I never want to lose you. I just need you to understand.”

The touch of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine. It was a soft caress, a brief moment of tenderness amidst the chaos. You felt torn between wanting to push him away and craving the intimacy that only he could provide.

His dark eyes bore into yours, his voice low and intense. “Let me make it up to you, Y/N. Let me show you how much I care.”

Your breath hitched at the suggestion, and you felt a twinge of desire creeping into your thoughts. “Show me?” you murmured, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Mattheo’s hand slid from your cheek to the small of your back, pulling you closer. “Yes. Let me prove to you that I’m worth it.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss. You could feel the tension in his body as he deepened the kiss, his hands moving to caress your waist. A shiver ran through you as his touch lingered on your skin.Your resistance melted away as you responded to his kiss, feeling the need to be close to him. It was a soft, heated moment that made you forget the pain of the past few days.

Breaking the kiss, Mattheo rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. You smirked, an idea—rather suggestive, came up in your head. "Lead the way, then."

And with that, Mattheo wasted no time dragging you both into his room. His smile was visible as he sprinted immediately to prove himself.

[samandcolbyownme]

Hey can you make a sam golbach smut and him being REALLY DOMINANT LIKE REALLY ROUGH please

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, dominant!Sam, sub!reader, teasing, flirting, sexting, pet names (cute and dirty - slut, whore, daddy), unprotected sex, fingering in public, rough actions, creampie, choking, hair pulling, oral (both rec), slight anal play, just filth in general,

Word count: Little over 3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

As you’re sitting at this celebration dinner for your boyfriend and his friend, you can’t help but notice that to everyone here, Sam was a golden boy.

He had his life cut out for him, not to mention that he built it himself. He was a total sweetheart, a smart and funny kid who had a smile that just lit up every single room he walked into.

You found it funny that everyone has no idea that you see him as a freak who likes to be called daddy while he has his cock buried deep inside of you.

They had no idea what kind of filthy shit rolls off of his tongue while you’re working his cock to fit snugly in your throat.

They had no clue about the nasty texts and pictures sitting in your text thread with Sam.

You feel your phone vibrate in your lap and you can feel Sam’s stare on you, which gives it up right away on why your phone vibrated.

You look down, reading Sam’s texts on your Lock Screen, You looked so good on top of me last night, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.

You glance around before tapping on it to reply, You know what I can’t stop thinking about? How good our clothes would look on either one of our floors.

You hit send, knowing that no matter how cliche it is, it’ll still get Sam going because you’re the one saying it to him.

You get pulled into conversation with the girls sitting next to you. Sharing glances with Sam every now and then, until you feel your phone go off. You can feel your heart skip a beat as you lay your hand over it.

You finally get a chance to look down and you squeeze your thighs together at Sam’s words on the screen, You look so innocent sitting here in your little black dress, and I know for damn sure you’re not and that just gets me so weak, baby.

You lock your phone, needing to take a second to calm yourself down.

Sam wasn’t always like this.

There was a time where you weren’t sending flirty, dirty, and teasing texts all day like you pretty much do now.

There weren’t secret school girl costumes hidden in the bottom drawer of your dresser along with other things that would make people’s jaws drop.

Sam was determined to know your body after the first time you had sex, and boy did he ever.

You could be across the room and he could, a high possibility make you cum with just his words.

He knew you like the back of his hand.

Sam, don’t do this. I don’t want to have to leave early, you reply, taking a sip of your drink. You almost leg out a sigh of frustration when you read over Sam’s text, Who said anything about leaving, baby?

You roll your eyes, glancing up at him and he smirks, knuckles rested against his chin as he gives you a little wave.

You tilt your head, giving him a pouty look.

He slowly reaches down, typing on his phone before you feel yours go off. You look down, I promise it’ll be worthwhile.

You bite down on your lip, What makes you say that?

You watch as he answers you, How wet are you right now?

You flip your phone and give him a concerned, there’s people around, look. He shrugs, mouthing a quick, “So.”

You can’t help but smirk.

You loved that you were the only one who saw this side of him. As you like to say, he’s a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets.

I wish you could find out for yourself, you type back quietly, anxiously awaiting Sam to finish his conversation with Colby and Jake so he can answer.

Your bite down on your lip as you see him reach for his phone. After a minute that felt like a year, I wish I could kiss you where you like it, make you even wetter than you are right now. God damn, y/n. I’m craving you so fucking bad.

You almost whimpered. Out loud.

You compose yourself before answering, You have no idea how bad I need you inside of me right now. I’m craving, you. Sam. Please….

He smirks at your response, shaking his head as he goes to type back, but Colby pulls him into another conversation with yet another friend, so you excuse yourself as you get up to go to the bathroom.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek as you feel your little black dress riding up as you walk away.

To which you pay no mind to and is also quick to catch Sam’s attention.

Fuck, his attention was never off of you, really.

It never is.

“Where ya going, sweetheart?” Sam asks as his arm snakes around your waist. You smirk, glancing over at him, “I have to pee, and.. I want something a little stronger if I’m going to keep putting up with you.”

His jaw drops slightly and he laughs, “Whooaa. You started it.”

“Oh yeah?” You stop, crossing your arms, “How so?”

Sam tugs at your dress, “when you decided to wear this.”

“But you love this dress.” You pout, poking him in the chest. He smirks, “Not when I keep losing my train of thought on my speeches because your boobs are about ready to burst through the top of that dress, fuck. I think they got bigger since the last time you’ve worn it.”

You giggle, “Do you want me to turn around next speech you have to give?”

Sam pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes scan over your face, “Mm. No.” He looks over his shoulder, “Go to the car, I’m telling Colby you’re sick.”

You feel a bolt of excitement shoot down your spine and you grip his shirt, “We’re leaving?”

Sam nods, handing you his keys, “Gettin’ late anyway, plus I don’t know how many more boners I can hide. You’re killin’ me.”

You smirk, pressing a kiss to his lips, “I love you.”

Sam smirks, giving your ass a squeeze, “I love you, now go. And have those panties off by the time I get out there.”

Your heart skips a beat and you nod, making your way towards the front of the venue. You walk over to Sam’s car, unlocking it before you get in.

As soon as the door shuts, your hands are up under your dress, tugging down the partially damp fabric. You kick them down over your feet, and as you go to take off your heels, Sam gets in, “Leave them on.”

You stop unbuckling them and sit back up with a smirk as you look at him, “Yes daddy.”

You feel his hand on your neck followed by his lips on yours. His other hand moves to between your thighs and he groans, “I want you to cum before we get home.”

You whimper, nodding as your lips are still on his.

He pulls away and starts the car, glancing over at you one last time before he starts to drive, “Go ahead, baby.”

You bite your lip, moving around so you can get situated in a position that he can see best in - one leg up on the seat, back shifted towards the door.

“Soaked.” Sam says under his breath. He wanted nothing more than to push his face into your glistening cunt, “I’m filling you completely tonight.”

You whimper at his words, gasping as your fingers come in contact with your own clit, “Please.” You whimper out, “Need you.”

Sam reaches over, laying a hand on the top of your knee, “Yeah? You like the sound of me not pulling out?”

You nod, “Fuck, Sam.” You whimper, bucking your hips as you move down to gently rub the outside of your pussy, “I want you.” You moan out as you slip in your fingers, “All of you.”

Sam bites his lip, glancing back and forth between your occupied cunt and the empty roads, “You like touching yourself for me?” His hand gives your knee a squeeze, “hmm?”

“Yes.” You breath out quickly, moaning as you arch your back off the door.

“Such a slut.” Sam groans out, moving his hand from your knee to the hard cock that’s being restrained in his dress pants.

He couldn’t wait to get them off, have you on your knees.

“listen to that.” Sam gasps quietly, “Fuuuck.”

You moan louder as you thrusts your fingers in and out of your pussy, squelching noises fill the car.

“You’re fucking soaked, huh? What’s got you all worked up, sweetheart?”

“You, daddy.” You breathe out, “Your teasing.”

“My teasing?” He tsks his tongue and shakes his head, “Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

You come to stop, waiting for the light to change and Sam reminds you to keep going. A car pulls up besides you and your heart starts racing, but it can’t help but turn you on more.

“Wouldn’t that be something.” Sam looks over, eyes moving from the person in the car next to you down to your finger filled cunt, “If they looked over and seen just how much of a whore Sam Golbach’s girlfriend is.”

“Why?” You tease, a gasp escaping as his thumb presses down to your clit, “You’re just innocent, little Sam.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he focuses on driving, “I’ll show you innocent.” He slides his fingers down in with yours, a louder moan comes from you as you move your hand with his.

“Almost home, and I don’t think you came yet, did you?” He looks over at you and you sigh, “N-no. But I’m close.”

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Sam says softly, “That’s the key to getting you inside faster.”

You moan in response, your other hand moving to rub your clit, urging yourself to give Sam what he wants. You let out a gasp, arching your back against the door as you cum, your walls pushing your fingers into Sam’s.

“Go upstairs, and take off everything.”

Sam’s words make you realize that you’re now home, and the night is just only beginning.

——

Once inside and upstairs, you’re naked in a matter of seconds, lying on the bed as you watch the door, waiting for him to walk through.

Your heart skips a beat as does, your eyes tracking his every movements as he walks across the room, “Get started for me, baby. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

You needed him, so you did.

You hand moves to the place between your thighs, rubbing circles as you moan out, “I need you, Sam.”

“Mhm, keep going.”

You sigh, sliding your fingers down, “I need you to make me cum, I need your cock.” You moan as you curl your own fingers, eyes opening to see Sam standing at the end of the bed, “What else, baby?”

His eyes flick from your fingers in your pussy to your eyes, “I wanna hear you tell me what you want me to do to you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, “T-touch me. I need you to touch me.”

“How baby?” Sam sits on the bed, moving your leg open wider, “Fuck, you look so wet.”

“I am.” You whine, “Feel, please.”

“Keep going, maybe I will.”

You sigh, “I need your cock in me, making me feel good. I need to make you feel good.” You gasp, moving your fingers up to rub your clit, “Please, please please Sam! I need you, want all of you.”

You tilt your head back, eyes squeezed shut as you continue doing what he asked, “Daddy, I need you.”

A loud and relieved moan leaves your lips as Sam’s tongue slips through your folds and into your cunt, sending waves of pleasure as he groans against you.

His hands push and hold your thighs back, licking and lapping at your needy cunt while you fill the room with moans and gasps.

“Fuck, fuck.” You reach down, hands on his, “S-so close.”

He pulls away and you whimper as you watch him stand up. Just as you go to ask him, he nods towards you, “Fingers. Pussy. Keep going, baby. Get yourself there.”

You let your head fall back on the bed as you reach down, slipping your fingers into yourself while you use your other hand to pinch and pull at your boobs.

“Shit, that’s it, baby.” Sam says as he unbuttons his shirt, “Being such a good girl for me, tonight.”

You nod, whimpering and moaning out as you move your hand from your boob to your clit, “Please.”

Sam doesn’t say anything, he just undoes his pants and pushes them down, all while keeping his eyes on you, “Come here, baby.” You’re instantly moving to him, putting your body as close to his and his hands go to your hips.

He slides a hand up, his fingers wrapping around your throat as he pulls you in for a kiss, “Knee, baby.” He kisses you again, tightening his grip, “I want to use that pretty little white mouth for a little.”

He guides you down, letting go of your neck as you drop to your knees, hands reaching up to pull his boxers away from his body.

You look up at Sam, lip pulled between your teeth and he nods, “You said you needed to make me feel good.”

You smirk, pulling his cock from his boxers and immediately taking him into your mouth. Sam gasps, a hand flying to the back of your head to tangle your hair around his fingers, “Oh fuck, yes.”

He looks down, watching as you bob your head, squelching and soft moans from his lips fill the room, “Yeah, baby. Just like that.”

You slow down your head moments, tongue lapping the underside of the tip. You look up at him, hallowing out your cheeks and Sam shakes his head, tightening his grip on your hair, “Look at you, pretty little slut sucking me off.”

He holds your head still and he tilts his head, “Open more, babe.” He bites his lip as you open your jaw more, groaning lowly as he starts to slowly thrusts in and out.

“Fuck.” He grunts as he hears you gag, “Fuck, taking me so well, slut. Feels so good.” After a few more thrusts, he lets go of your head and you quickly pick up bobbing your head before he stops you, “Bed.”

You get on the bed, laying the side of your face on the bed and raising your as in the air.

Sam gets behind you, “Look at you all needy and ready for me.” His thumb swipes down over your pussy, flicking over you clit a few times, which earns a gasp and wiggle of your hips from you.

“Please, daddy. I can’t take it anymore please.” You beg, whining out when you feel his thumb rub back over your pussy.

He spits into his hand, coating his cock with it before pushing the tip into you, purposefully slow, “Fuck.” Sam grips your hips tight as he thrusts the rest of himself into you.

You moan loudly, hands balling up the sheets beside your head, “Y-You’re so big.” You whimper out, clenching around his cock, “S-Sam.. move please.” You try to move your hips but his hands keep you still, making you whine out in frustration.

“What baby?” He leans down to pull you up, his chest now pressed to your back, “Can’t take it? Need to stop?” He chuckles at his teasing remarks and you shake your head, “No, I can.”

“You sure about that, baby? Last time I about had you in tears.”

“But I love every second of it.” You turn your head as he slides his hand up to your hair, gripping tight to hold your head still.

Your face twists with pain, and pleasure as he starts to thrusts his cock in and out of you, “You feel so fucking good, baby.” Sam groans, his head resting against yours, “I can’t wait to see my cum leak out of you.”

You moan at his words, your arms shaking as they can’t weight your weight for much longer, “S-Sam.” You whimper out, “F-Fuck.”

He lets go of your hair, reaching around to wrap his arm around your waist, lifting you up so your back is fully against his chest.

He continues to thrusts as his other hand slides up to form that tight grip on your throat once again, causing a squeak to slip out as you try to moan.

Your nails dig into his arm, head falling back onto his shoulder, “You look so pretty like this.” Sam whispers out, a groan following his words, “What are you?”

His grip loosens and you gasp out, “Your slut.”

“That’s right, baby.” He leans back, pushing you back down onto the bed. You moan out loudly, clenching around his cock as you feel a desperate need to cum hit you all at one, “I need to cum.”

Sam drags his fingertips down your spine, “Go ahead, baby.” He drags his thumb down, collecting wetness from your pussy before dragging it back up to your ass.

You moan loudly as you know what he’s about to do, hips wiggling as a signal for him to keep going.

He circles his thumb around as he thrusts his hips, moaning out as he feels you squeeze his cock when he pushes his thumb in, hooking it there as his thrusts quickly turn punishing.

You were a mess, vision going blurry as he roughly fucks you through your orgasm, “Shit.” He groans, “Almost there, baby. Just a little more, okay?”

You moan in response, body starting to shake as Sam finally rolls up on his own release, costing the inside of your walls white before he gives your hip a squeeze.

He pulls out, biting down on his lip as he watches his cum follow, dripping down onto the blanket, “You’re so fucking hot.” Sam moves to kiss up your back, stopping then he gets to your shoulder, “Want to go for a shower?”

“Can I actually shower?” You laugh as you look at him and he nods, “You want to do it before or after?” He smirks as he watches you actually think about it, “Mm. We can do it before.”

“I’ll go get it started.” Sam presses a kiss to your lips and just like that, golden boy Sam returns.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

This is literally my THIRD time writing this one shot. Please let me know how it is. Sorry if it sucks, but thank you for reading! I love you all so much!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

What Happens in the Shadows

Title: What Happens in the Shadows

Pairing: Alastor x reader

Word Count: ~5,155

In which Mimzy has suspicions about Alastor’s feelings towards the reader, and plans to use them to her advantage.

A/N: Part 4 of my Never and Always series

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING (attempted assault), angst, fluff

Mimzy was a lot of things. She was loud, she was brash, she was showy, and she was bold. She was also, however, good at picking up a scent. Whether it was a good deal to be made, money to be earned, or an advantage to be won, Mimzy was there.

This usually led to one of two things.

One, she would get too confident, pushing herself into a corner when the tables inevitably turned against her, leaving her scrambling to the closest ally she had as a defense.

The second option was much more rare, when she would take her time, allowing herself to gather enough facts to truly know a demon’s weaknesses before pouncing and closing a deal. Though it didn’t happen often, those that did manage to fall under Mimzy’s control were there for eternity, serving and slaving away as she ever so slowly gathered more power.

Mimzy was ever so hungry for power, after all, even if she was bad at obtaining it.

Which is why, when she witnessed the small spectacle at her club between her dear friend Alastor and a lowly sinner who had done nothing but dance with a woman, the gears in her head had started to turn.

She had never mentioned the incident to anyone else, of course. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that the Radio Demon would have her head if she so much as breathed a word of it. 

But he couldn’t stop her from thinking. He couldn’t stop her from watching. He couldn’t stop her from noticing. And he most definitely couldn’t stop her from coming.

~~~

“Ya think ya boyfriend would let mine go if you asked nicely?”

You flushed and looked away. “Alastor is not my boyfriend.”

Angel Dust winked over at you. “Uh-huh, sure. Whateva ya say, dollface.”

“He’s not,” you insisted. “We’re just friends.”

From his place behind the hotel bar, Husk put down the cup he was cleaning and looked up at you. “You and Angel are ‘just friends’. You and me? Just friends. You and Alastor?” He shook his head, picking up a new cup as he looked over at you with an expression of vague concern. “You’re more than that.”

“Ha!” Angel said as he pointed over at Husk in triumph.

You could feel embarrassment pooling into your stomach. “You’re both wrong. Al doesn’t-” you struggled to find the words. “Al doesn’t like anyone that way,” you said hesitantly. “And I know for a fact that he doesn’t like me that way. He just feels responsible for me now, that’s all.”

Husk huffed lightly, his eyes narrowing. “Alastor’s never felt responsible for anyone in his life. Not for the souls he’s collected, and definitely not for a sinner that doesn’t owe him any more than the dirt on her shoes.”

You looked away. “I do owe him,” you muttered. “He saved my life.”

Angel laughed forcefully. “That was his choice, toots. You don’t owe him nothin’, ya hear me?” He glanced over at you, his expression bordering on desperation as he searched your eyes. 

Maybe you didn’t agree, but it wouldn’t do anybody any good to have Angel and Husk worrying over you with each passing moment while you stubbornly believed that Alastor was a good man who had earned your trust long ago.

So instead, you nodded, smiling softly. “I know.”

Angel nodded firmly, but the concern in his eyes was still overwhelmingly present.

You couldn’t blame him, of course, but you wished with all of your undead heart that the three most important people in your life would just get along. Not that it would ever happen while Alastor held Husk’s soul. 

You let out a long exhale before you clapped your hands together and smiled over at the hotel’s bartender. “Alright, enough of that.” 

Angel Dust’s expression relaxed as he turned to Husk as well. “She’s right. Pour me a drink.”

Husk returned your grin with one of his own, pouring the three of you a glass and sliding yours over.

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, staring down at your drinks as you thought. You couldn’t say exactly what was going on in Husk and Angel’s heads, but you knew that you personally were thinking about a specific radio-themed Overlord. 

You hadn’t seen Alastor since the two of you had danced together in your bedroom a few days prior. It made sense that you hadn’t seen him the day after, of course. It was your day with Angel, and Alastor would love nothing less than to get involved in your makeover session.

The days after that though, were different. Normally, you’d at least catch a glimpse of the demon before he left the hotel to run his radio show or do whatever else Overlords did in their free time. If you weren’t able to catch him before he left, he would always drop by the hotel a little later on, even if just for a moment. But no matter what, he would always stop by your room at the end of the day, and the two of you would just talk.

But now, you hadn’t seen or heard from Alastor in days. You weren’t worried, per say. You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself. You did miss him, though, and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t looking forward to your next evening conversation. 

You drummed your hands lightly on the counter before shifting off of your barstool. It wasn’t likely that Alastor had finally stopped by, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. “I think I’m going to turn in for the night.”

Angel Dust quirked an eyebrow at you playfully. “Sure thing, toots. Just goin’ to bed, nothin’ to do with Smiles at all, right?”

You blushed and turned away, walking towards the staircase leading up to your room. “Goodnight.”

“Have fun,” Angel called up after you as you climbed the stairs and walked down the hallway to your room as quickly as possible. 

You breathed a deep sigh of relief when you were able to reach your bedroom without any more comments from Angel. Though, that was probably courtesy of Husk. You made a mental note to thank him in the morning.

You closed your door behind you and leaned against it with a sigh. 

Something flitted across your vision. You jerked back.

The object popped up in front of you, causing you to bite back a scream before you recognized it as Alastor’s shadow. 

You huffed in annoyance and pushed away from your door, walking around the shadow and making your way to your bed before plopping yourself down. “That was absolutely unnecessary,” you said.

The shadow only smiled, quickly weaving its way over to sit beside you. It took your hand and raised it, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

You blushed. “Fine, I forgive you,” you said with a giggle. 

The shadow’s smile broadened, using its other hand to gently put its claws to your throat as your laughter slowed.

“Not that I don’t love to see you,” you said as your eyes took a quick scan of your room. “But where’s Alastor?” The shadow made a small noise before reaching back and pulling a note off of your nightstand. It turned your hand over to place the folded piece of paper in your palm. 

You pulled your hand back and opened the note, your eyes skimming over it as you tried to keep your heart from sinking. 

It was a short note, and straight to the point. Alastor wouldn’t be coming back to the hotel that night due to some unfinished business with gaining new territory. He didn’t know when he’d be back. He wished you a good night.

You folded the note again and placed it in between yourself and the shadow. “It’s alright,” you said, forcing a smile on your face. “I understand.”

But the shadow’s smile had lessened significantly, and it stared at you almost expectantly.

“I’m fine, really,” you insisted. “I know he’s busy. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

The shadow looked unconvinced. But, you noticed with disappointment, its eyes had started to flicker back to your window. 

“You need to go,” you said. It wasn’t a question.

The shadow looked back at you regretfully.

You reached out and placed your hands on its cheeks, lowering its head until your foreheads touched. “I’ll be okay,” you said quietly. “I promise.”

You released it and moved back.

The shadow caught your hands and pulled you back in, pressing a kiss to each of your palms before pressing them to its chest where its beating heart would have been. It gave you one last long look before it released you and melted back into the shadows, disappearing out your window.

You stared after it for a moment. Part of you wished that it had been Alastor who had come into your room and kissed your palms goodnight. The other, less selfish part of you knew that he had done the best that he could, and you appreciated it more than words could say.

“Don’t worry, he’s always like this,” a voice said from the other side of your room.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you spun around, searching for its source.

Mimzy stepped forward from the shadows and gave you a sickening smile. “It doesn't mean he doesn't care about you.”

“What are you doing here?” you blurted without thinking. Your hands clutched your bed sheets as she approached you as casually as you would approach a friend in public. But you weren’t in public. And you most definitely weren’t friends.

“Oh, don’t give me that, doll,” Mimzy said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve been dying to see you ever since Al brought you to my club.”

“Why?” you asked before pressing your lips together. It wouldn’t do you any good to antagonize her, you knew. But you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “What do you want from me?”

A small voice in the back of your head wondered how she had managed to slink into the shadows and avoid Alastor’s. Shadows were part of his domain, after all. Shouldn’t he have sensed her?

Mimzy’s smile changed into something more sinister. “I don’t want anything from you, doll. You’re a sweet little thing, but-” she looked you up and down with a note of disdain. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t make me much revenue.”

You felt an anger flare up inside of you. You stood, crossing your arms and pasting what you hoped was a firm expression on your face. “If you don’t want anything from me, why go out of your way to sneak into my room?”

The club owner’s smile only grew. “Relax, sugar, I’m not here to trick you into services. I’m here to talk about ol’ Alastor.”

You tried to hide the surprise and fear that shot through your core. “What about him?”

“Well,” Mimzy said with nonchalance as she began to stroll through your bedroom, poking at your belongings. “We both know that he tends to keep to himself. Not many friends, but loads of enemies, am I right? But he’s really just a sweetheart, that’s why we’ve been friends for years now.”

You blinked. “Alright.”

“But,” Mimzy continued, her voice oddly sweet. “I noticed the other night that he’s taken a bit of a shine to you.”

You dropped your arms and shook your head. “That’s not true. Alastor and I-”

Mimzy waved a hand dismissively. “Now, I’m not one to stir up unnecessary drama. But Al’s my friend, so I’ve been a bit worried about him since then.” She turned to look at you, her eyes boring intently into yours. “He’s an Overlord, you know. Lots of enemies. If any of them find out about you, think about what it’ll do to his reputation. Or worse,” she said, her eyes widening dramatically as she placed her hands on her cheeks. “His power.”

You flinched. 

If you were being honest, the very same thought had crossed your mind more than once. Every time you went out with Alastor, even for a brief moment, you worried about being seen with him. You worried what it would do for his image. 

He had been quick to ease your concerns, reassuring you that nobody would dare cross him, even if he were to be seen with you. 

Even so, you had noticed that he was careful to never touch you, and rarely ever look at you, when the two of you were in public.

But, it seemed, despite all of his precautions, that your night together at Mimzy’s might have started something that you had feared from the very beginning.

You swallowed heavily, meeting Mimzy’s gaze as you repeated the same words that Alastor had said to you, time and time again. “Nobody would dare cross the Radio Demon.”

Mimzy nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “Of course they wouldn’t, sugar. But they might mess with you. And if Al cares about you half as much as I think he does, well, that’ll be enough to ruin everything that he’s ever worked for.”

You bit your lip with worry. You were never quite as good as Alastor when it came to hiding your emotions. “So why did you come to me?”

The demoness shrugged. “I knew Al would never listen if I told him that you were bad for him.”

You winced.

“But,” she continued, “I thought maybe you could convince him.”

An alarm bell began to ring in the back of your mind. “Convince him of what?” you asked wearily.

“To keep his distance from you,” Mimzy said, a little too quickly for your liking. “The longer you stick around, the more he gets attached. And the more he gets attached, well…” she smiled, her teeth sharp and her eyes dark. “The more likely it is that our old friend gets tossed out of commission.”

Your gaze hardened. “You want me to stay away from Al? Fat chance.”

Mimzy laughed, the sound forced and brittle. “Not at all, sugar. I won’t be the one who ripped the two of you apart.” She began walking towards your bedroom door. “In fact, I think you two are adorable together. But, you see, it’s not just Alastor I’m looking out for. I’ve gotta take care of myself, too,” she said as she turned to face you.

You recoiled at the sight of her hardened eyes and cruel expression.

Your bedroom door opened, revealing two large demons that closed the door behind them, blocking your exit. You whirled around as another demon entered through your window, cutting off your only other means of escape.

“Mimzy-” you began.

“Don’t you worry, doll. They can’t exactly kill you again, can they?” she giggled. “They’ll just rough you up a little so that Alastor can finally come to his senses.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked as panic began to set in.

“Let me explain it in simple terms for you, hun. I need you to help me break Alastor and get him away from you. Whether or not you help me willingly is completely up to you,” she said with a shrug.

“If Al does care about me,” you said desperately, “then it won’t do any good for you to hurt me. This is just going to make things worse for him. It’ll make him angry. He’ll lash out.”

Mimzy’s eerie grin only grew in size. “Oh, I’m counting on it, sugar. I can’t exactly gain more territory with the Radio Demon breathing down everyone’s neck. If I can get to him through you, he’ll be too upset to think straight.” She chuckled. “If I’m lucky, he’ll be the cause of his own downfall. With him out of the way, things can be the way they’re meant to be.”

The three demons surrounding you came closer.

“Mimzy,” you gasped. “Please, don’t do this. Alastor’s one of your oldest friends, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The club owner tilted her head in consideration. “Well, I suppose I can make an exception.” Her teeth flashed. “If you were willing to cut a deal with me.”

The demons grew closer still.

You could feel your resolve faltering. One measly deal to get out of this mess didn’t sound too bad. But as you looked back over at Mimzy, her eyes flashing and her smile turning into a snarl, the voice in your head that screamed out to protect Alastor came to the forefront of your mind with full force. Any deal that you made with Mimzy would only be used to hurt Alastor, and you would never forget how you had met him in the first place.

He had saved you once. You weren’t going to make him save you again.

You straightened and stared straight into Mimzy’s eyes. “I hope you get what’s coming to you,” you spat.

The sinner shrugged. “Whatever you say, doll. Have fun, fellas!”

You heard your door open and close as the demons drew nearer, blocking your view. 

A deep fear spread throughout your body, starting in your chest and working its way out. You could scream, but you were almost certain that Mimzy had found a way to mute the sounds from your room to the rest of the hotel. Nobody was coming to save you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself as a feeling of regret shot through your heart. You had never thanked Husk for having your back. You had never finished your makeover with Anthony. You had never told your friends how much they had helped you, and how much you appreciated them.

You had never told Alastor that you loved him.

You let out a sob. You cursed yourself for crying.

A hand grabbed your arm roughly, your eyes flying open in horror. But before the demon could do so much as pull you closer, a shadow swept through your window and across the room, knocking the other two demons away from you. The third demon tightened his grip on your arm, but it was already much too late.

The lights in your room began to flicker as a new shadow entered your room. It grew in size, becoming more and more solid until it finally took the shape of one of the most feared Overlords in Hell.

“I do believe,” Alastor said to the last standing demon as his antlers began to grow and his eyes began to flicker. “You have something that belongs to me.”

You didn’t wait to hear the demon’s response before you shut your eyes and turned away. You knew what came next, and though you had yet to argue with Alastor over his methods, you had no wish to see them for yourself.

The demon’s hand was ripped from your arm. Even without your sight, you were able to hear the screams of all three intruders as Alastor and his shadow punished them a mere feet away from you.

You sank down onto the ground, keeping your eyes closed as you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your head in your arms. The tears that had begun to flow earlier suddenly returned with a vengeance, making their way down your cheeks as you sobbed violently.

You’re safe. You’re safe. Al is here now. You’re safe, you thought to yourself as you pulled your knees in tighter.

But another, horrible voice spoke up as you cried. He wasn’t able to see Mimzy, it said. Why wasn’t he able to see Mimzy? If this happens again, will he know? Will he miss it? 

Can he save me?

You gasped and whipped your head up when a gentle hand brushed your arm.

Alastor was staring right back at you, kneeling on your floor. His smile was tense and close-lipped, his expression concerned. “It’s only me, mon chere.”

You glanced behind him and noticed vaguely that Mimzy’s three demons were nowhere to be seen.

Your chest began to hitch as you tried to hold your tears back. “I’m so sorry, Al,” you said, hating the way your voice broke. “I should have been able to defend myself, I’m so sorry.” The tears began again, your body slumping forward as you began to weep. 

A pair of arms caught you and gathered your body closer until you were resting against a warm chest. 

Al’s shadow, you thought to yourself as you nuzzled closer.

One of its arms wrapped around your back, holding you close, while its other hand grasped one of yours and pressed it to its chest. It held you tightly, allowing you to cry and hiccup into its shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there before your sobs became whimpers, and your whimpers became hiccups. You weren’t sure how long it held you before you were able to breathe properly.

The hand holding yours released you gently, coming up to wipe your tears away from your face.

You finally opened your swollen eyes, already regretting having been found in such a vulnerable state. 

You came face to face with Alastor’s shadow. Holding Alastor’s staff.

Standing across the room.

You gasped and pulled back violently, causing yourself to fall out of Alastor’s lap and onto your floor. 

The Overlord didn’t react, instead watching you with an expressionless smile on his face.

“I thought you were your shadow,” you stammered. “I didn’t realize-”

“I do hope you aren’t going to apologize for reacting to the given situation, my dear,” Alastor said as he tilted his head at you. He sounded, much to your surprise, mildly annoyed.

You froze. “Are you mad at me?”

A flash of irritation appeared in the Overlord’s eyes as his teeth gleamed. “We’ve now spent a notable amount of time together. I do hope you know me a bit better than that.” His voice held a note of challenge.

You sniffed and brought your knees to your chest once again without a response.

Alastor’s eyes softened and his smile eased at the sight of your trembling form. He sighed, the sound revealing an internal exhaustion that he would never admit to out loud. “I assure you, mon chere, my anger does not lie with you.”

You nodded, looking away. 

Silence. Deep silence.

But you couldn’t avoid the upcoming conversation forever.

“People have seen us together, Al,” you finally said, your throat raw. You looked up at him. “People who want to take your power.”

You didn’t miss the way the demon’s smile tensed. 

“I won’t be the reason that you lose everything you’ve built so far,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You deserve more than what I can give you.”

Alastor stood abruptly, climbing gracefully to his feet before offering you one of his clawed hands and pulling you up beside him.

He released you and grasped your chin in between his fingers, tilting your head up to face him. 

“Any demon who hopes to steal my power is going to find themselves sorely disappointed, my dear, regardless of whether or not your presence is noticed.” His eyes hardened. “I am more than capable of holding on to what I’ve gained.”

“You couldn’t sense Mimzy,” you blurted, regretting the words as they left your lips, but unable to stop them. “You didn’t realize she was there until-” you swallowed. “What if it happens again, but this time they come for you?” You hated how desperate you sounded. “What if they hurt you, Al?”

The Overlord tilted his head. His smile twitched and his grip only strengthened as he looked down at you with something resembling regret. “I do admit that both myself and my shadow were a bit distracted during its visit, and I do apologize for not preventing this whole ordeal before it ever began.”

“That’s not what I meant-” you started weakly.

Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Though I can promise you that such a thing will never happen again, mon chere. Not while I still stand.”

You didn’t respond. Not because you doubted his ability to take care of you, of course. But because you didn’t want this added responsibility to prevent him from taking care of himself.

“I do hope,” the demon continued, the static in his voice suddenly disappearing as he searched your gaze. “That you haven’t finally begun to doubt me.”

You shook your head as well as you were able to with his fingers still clutching your jaw. “No,” you whispered. “Never.”

And in a rare display of courage, you reached out, placing your hands gently on either side of the Radio Demon’s face as he released your jaw. You pulled him down until your foreheads met. “Never,” you repeated, your voice firm. “And if you really aren’t worried, and you want me to stay, then I will.” You pulled back to look into his eyes. “I’ll stay with you. Always.”

Alastor’s hands reached up and settled on top of yours as his eyes bore into you. “That’s quite the commitment, my dear,” he said. There was something strange in his voice, something that sounded almost like uncertainty, almost like tension, almost like fear.

Your grip on his face tightened as you looked up at him. “I mean it, Al. I’ll stay with you, if you’ll have me. If you’re sure.”

Now, there were a great many things that Alastor would never do. He’d never make a deal that he wasn’t in control of. He’d never submit to the Vees. He’d never tell Charlie the real reason that he was in her hotel.

He’d never tell you that he loved you.

But, he found as he stared into your eyes, he would absolutely give up everything that he’d ever built if it meant that he got to keep you.

“I don’t intend to lose anything, my dear. Least of all you.”

You blushed, maintaining eye contact as a gentle smile took the place of your previous frown.

Alastor leaned forward. You followed his lead, expecting to press your forehead to his, when he surprised you by placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You pulled back and smiled up at him before pulling him down to place your own kiss on his cheek.

Maybe Mimzy was right. Maybe you were something of a danger to the Radio Demon. But you’d be double-damned if you were going to give up on him so easily.

“Now,” Alastor said, his eyes flashing dangerously as he released you and stepped back. His shadow surged forward, returning Alastor’s staff to its rightful owner and standing behind its master with a chilling grin. 

Alastor faced you, his smile gentle and his eyes hard as the static returned to his voice with full force. “Would you care to give me the name of the foolish soul who tried to harm what was mine?”

~~~

Nobody had seen or heard from Mimzy in days.

Three new screams had joined the Radio Demon’s broadcast.

You’d been too afraid to leave the hotel for a few days.

Alastor had begun checking your room every night before leaving you alone.

Nobody else at the hotel knew what had happened to you. Not even Angel and Husk.

You gained back your courage in the following weeks with help from Alastor.

The two of you had grown closer than ever.

Nobody had seen or heard from Mimzy in weeks.

~~~

You leaned back against your bed’s headboard, watching as Alastor had his shadow sweep through your room once again.

“I’m fine, Al,” you said, trying to contain your laughter. “Really. Nobody else is going to get in. There’s locks on the windows, and your room is close enough to be able to hear if something goes wrong.”

Alastor hummed in acknowledgement, though his eyes continued to roam around your room until he was satisfied.

He turned to you with a grin. “I’m only protecting what is mine, mon cœur.” He turned to your door, walking away from you with his shadow following close behind. “I do expect to see you bright and early in the morning for a short stroll.”

It was your turn to hum in agreement. 

You were more than thrilled with the offer, of course, but you felt a sense of unease that threatened to keep you up all night. You didn’t doubt Alastor’s abilities, of course, but you worried about what might happen to him if he was attacked while he was momentarily distracted with keeping you safe.

Alastor’s hand reached towards your doorknob. “I bid you a good night, my dear.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” you blurted before you could lose your courage.

Alastor froze in place, his hand hovering. His shadow, however, was much more reactive. It leapt up in excitement and made its way back over to your bed, jumping in beside you and nuzzling its head against your cheek. 

You giggled and pulled away, allowing the shadow to slowly run a clawed hand from the base of your throat up to your chin before looking back over at its owner.

He had turned to look at you, a fond expression on his face as he watched the interaction. 

“Only if you want to, of course,” you said hurriedly as your smile began to slip. “I don’t mean to pressure you.”

Alastor waved a hand dismissively before he made his way over to you. “You couldn’t pressure me if you tried, my dear.”

Your heart soared as you moved over, giving him enough room to not have to even brush against you during the night.

The Overlord climbed into your bed easily, settling against your headboard before looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “I do hope you weren’t expecting me to sleep.”

You smiled. “Not at all.” You began to shuffle around to get comfortable and to avoid looking into his eyes when you said, “I just feel safer when you’re here, that’s all.”

The last words of your sentence had hardly left your lips before Alastor’s shadow finally moved from its place on your other side. You laughed as it nudged you over before wrapping its arms around you and pulling your back to its chest, giving you a sense of security that you had never found with anyone else.

You closed your eyes and nuzzled in, allowing yourself to be swept away in a wave of comfort and exhaustion. “Goodnight, Al,” you murmured as you drifted away. “Thank you. For everything.”

You fell asleep before you could hear his response.

So you didn’t see his eyes soften. You didn’t see him reach out and grasp one of your hands in his own. You didn’t see him lean down and press a soft kiss to your temple. You didn’t hear his last words before he began to doze as well. 

“Thank you, mon cœur.”

Part 5 Here!

A/N 2: I really hope you guys enjoyed this one!! This is an ongoing series, so let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 

I’d also like to continue writing for Hazbin Hotel, so send me requests and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any those as well :))

Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx @maybememoriesx @martinys-world @axellovesalastor @mo-0-o @looking1016 @saturn-alone @sirens-and-moonflowers

[p0orbaby]

Cream Crackered

summary: being a phd student is not for the faint of heart

warnings: none, well tiredness? does that count?

a/n: based on this request. im also suffering from a hefty case of writers block so if this is awful, i apologies to all involved

word count: 1.1k

-

You’ve been burning the midnight oil for weeks.

As a PhD candidate in molecular biology, your days and nights blur together in a haze of research, experiments, and writing. You’re exhausted, running on fumes, but you have to push forward. You have to finish what you’ve started.

One evening, as you’re hunched over your computer, frantically typing away at your latest chapter, there’s a knock on your door. Startled, you look up to see Alessia standing there, concern etched on her face.

“Alessia?” you croak, your voice hoarse from lack of use. “What are you doing here?”

She steps into your cramped apartment, taking in the sight of scattered papers and empty coffee cups littering every surface. “I haven’t heard from you in days,” she says softly as her eyes scan your exhausted form. “I was worried”

You force a tired smile. “Just… I’m trying to finish this dissertation before my defense”

“You haven’t slept either, have you?”

“Is it that obvious?” You force a laugh, a weak little thing cut off by a large yawn. Gosh, you were tired.

She places her hold-all down on the floor, the one you were too tired to initially notice, before coming to stand over where you’ve stationed yourself at the dining table.

She nods, concern etched across her features. “Yes, it is,” she replies softly, her hand reaching out to brush a wayward strand of hair away from your face. “And it’s not healthy. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this”

You lean into her touch, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you despite your exhaustion. “I know,” you admit quietly, the weight of fatigue settling heavily on your shoulders. “But I need to get this finished”

Alessia hums, a low rumble in the quiet of your humble abode. “I thought you might have said that”.

Before you know it, Alessia leans over you and slams your laptop shut. Snuffing out the light of the screen in one smooth move, leaving you blinking and confused.

“You’re done for the day” she deadpans.

It all catches you off guard a little if you’re being completely honest.

“Wait, what? No, I’ve only got a few thousand words left” you protest, trying to prise your laptop open again. But it was no use, a perfectly manicured hand was keeping it closed, and you were too tired to fight her on this.

Looks like you're tapping out at homologous recombination.

Alessia gives you a firm look, an expression that leaves no room for negotiation. “You need rest, more than anything else right now”

You slump back in your chair, defeated but also secretly relieved. Deep down, you know she’s right. You’ve been pushing yourself to the brink, and it’s not at all sustainable.

With a resigned sigh, you nod, finally conceding. “Okay, okay. You win. But just for tonight”

Alessia smiles softly, “I’ll make you some dinner,” she offers, already heading towards the kitchen. “And then you're having a bath because no offense baby, you look like you could use one”

The truth hurts, you guess.

-

"So, tell me about your day," Alessia prompts as she rinses the shampoo from your hair.

You relax further into the warm water, gratefully leaning back against her. "It was hectic, as usual," you begin, recounting the events of the day with a sigh. "I spent most of it in the lab, running experiments, analysing data, the usual”

You feel her nod behind you. "Sounds intense," she comments, her fingers working wonders on your scalp. "Did you make any progress?"

You hum to confirm you had, a sense of pride swelling within you despite your fatigue. "Yeah, I think so. I managed to replicate some promising results from a previous study, which was a relief”

"That's great!" Alessia exclaims, kissing along your shoulder and up your neck. "I'm so proud of you”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at her words, a sense of validation that you desperately needed. "Thanks," you say, settling into her further, then asking her the same.

As suspected, her day was filled with training and game strategies and business meetings, a routine you’re familiar with but nonetheless always interested to hear about.

You start to doze as she talks, not because you’re bored, but because this is the first time you’ve felt relaxed in days.

It’s only when you hear the water slosh and she shifts behind you that you realise your eyes have closed and your head has lolled against her shoulder.

“C'mon you, let’s get you to bed before we both get colds”

You blink, gradually returning to awareness as Alessia’s words register. With a gentle nudge, she encourages you to rise from the bath, the cold air hitting you before she wraps a towel around your shoulders.

You offer Alessia a sleepy smile, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your bones. “Thanks for looking out for me,” you say softly, gratitude laced in your words as you nestle closer to her.

Alessia returns your smile, her eyes warm with affection. “Always, my love,” she replies, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with gentle fingers. “You know I’ve got your back.”

You nod, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you at her words. “I do,” you murmur. “And I’ve got yours too, always. Even more so when my every thought isn’t consumed by nondisjunctions and point mutations”

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said” she teases, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I can keep going? What about horizontal gene transfer? Or chromosomal segregation. Any of that doing it for you?” you jest, raising a suggestive eyebrow in her direction.

She just rolls her eyes and pushes you gently through to the bedroom.

“Come on, you know you love it when I talk nerdy to you,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows.

She chuckles, shaking her head in amusement as she grabs some clean pyjamas from the dresser. “Usually, but right now, I think we both need some shut-eye”

You pout playfully, feigning disappointment. “Spoilsport,” you mock, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her closer.

Alessia laughs, gently extricating herself from your grasp to pull back the duvet. “Hey, sleep is important,” she informs. “You of all people should know that”

You relent with a sigh, knowing she’s right. “Fine, fine,” you give in. “But you’re missing out on some riveting conversation”

So riveting in fact that you're yawning again and leaning into Alessia's touch as she helps you get dressed and tucked into bed.

Sleep, yes. What a splendid idea.

Alessia gives you a knowing look, “I think I’ll take my chances,” she says, before snuggling into bed beside you and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Not Alone

Authors note: My mental health is currently in the toilet (once again, I'm sorry y'all I'm trying so hard to get my one-shots out and finish up my multi chapter stories) so I wrote this to help myself feel better. Maybe it'll help some of y'all too ❤

Summary: Y/n has been suffering with immense negativity from her mental illnesses. Normally when this she self isolates and waits for it to pass, not a good coping skill surely but it keeps her safe. But this time, unbeknownst to her, Natasha has observed her slight changes and struggles during this period. So when Y/n takes a sudden leave, Nat knows she has to do something to show how much she cares and prove to Y/n that she's not alone.

Warnings: alludes to: anxiety, depression, PTSD, spiraling, suicidal ideation

Word count: 1773

Natasha Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

   It was movie night at the Avengers tower, and much to Natashas dismay you were once again absent. It wasn’t normal for you to miss out on things with the team, either as a whole or one on one hangouts. But for the past few weeks that's exactly what's been happening. It was gradual at first, but as time went on your lack of involvement only grew and your excuses as to why eventually stopped entirely. And while the rest of the team has taken notice of this behavior and is also a bit worried, it's Natasha who is affected most by your absence.

   She had thought that she was just being anxious due to her feelings for you mixed with the sudden distance you were making. But then she realized that was only part of the reason. What really impacted her were the changes she perceived in you. At first it was small things, like you losing focus during a meeting or skipping breakfast. But things had escalated, and far too quickly as far as she was concerned. Your gaze had become distant, your smile failed to be as bright, your laugh lacked its usual luster, you were eating less and sleeping more. But worst of all, you were throwing yourself into whatever mission came along. Even if you weren’t healed up from the last one yet.

   Unfortunately she knew exactly the headspace you were currently in, and she knew it wasn’t a good place for anyone to be. But especially you. It honestly hurt her to watch you suffer as you were, retreating in on yourself instead of seeking help. Or at least seeking her out, you usually confided in her whenever anything was bothering you. But she knew this made her a bit of a hypocrite because back when she was a new SHIELD recruit and struggling like this she certainly wasn’t letting Clint through the walls she built around herself, no matter how hard he tried to be there for her. But to her credit, when she was at her worst, she did reluctantly seek the archer out and let him in. 

   While she wants the same outcome for you, she doesn’t want you to have to hit your lowest point like she had before you reached out and accepted help. So she decides that she needs to act first and approach you. Maybe it's because she knows her friendship with you is closer than her and Clints had been at the time or maybe it's because she's hopeful that you return her feelings and have a bit of a weak spot for her, either way she's almost sure that you’ll be more recipient than she’d been. Which is why she finds herself quietly getting up from the sofa and slipping out of the room just as the movie begins to play. 

   She heads down the hall for the elevator but decides she doesn’t have the patience for it and so she opts for the stairs instead. She gets to your floor and heads straight for your door, where she doesn't hesitate to knock. As expected she receives no answer from you but it doesn’t deter her from knocking again.

   “Y/n, I know you're in there. Don’t make me pick the lock” she says. And it had been an attempt at a joke, but when she still gets no sign of movement from you she decides to do just that

   Your door opens with a familiar squeak that has you shifting in your bed, and your brows furrow as you watch Natasha reclose your door, “Didn’t think you were serious”

   “I’m always serious” she replies, knowing that outward image was far from what she allowed you to see

   “Not with me you aren’t” you grumble, managing to briefly make the corners of her mouth twitch in amusement. 

    But that amusement doesn’t last long as she takes in the state of your room. The blinds are shut with curtains drawn and a blanket has even been hung up over the curtain rod to block out all possible light from entering the space. Your dirty clothes are no longer limited to the hamper in the corner and are instead tossed recklessly about the floor. Your trashcan is shoved full of take out containers, a few dirty dishes are stacked on your nightstand, and the only light source is your dim bedside lamp.

   Her eyes scan over your appearance next and her heart sinks further. Based on your messy hair, dark eye bags, paler than usual complexion and crumpled up blankets she can assume that your prolonged stay in bed hasn’t been a restful one. Your scowl deepens when you notice her looking you over and you subconsciously shift under her gaze.

   “Can I help you with something Natasha, or do you just not get the hint that silence means I’d rather be alone?”

   She sighs and tries not to take your cold demeanor to heart. She knows you're just trying to keep yourself from being vulnerable with her. She decides to test her luck and steps further into the room, and when you don’t say anything about how close she is now she takes a seat on the edge of your bed.

   “I’m worried about you” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper

   “I’m fine” 

   “I know what fine means, Y/n.” she states, her gaze softening as she looks at you again, “And I know you aren’t okay right now”

   “I don’t need to be checked up on Natasha, I’m capable of looking out for myself and I’m telling you that I am okay.” you tell her, but the lie is more difficult to get out to her than you anticipated

   “Don’t do that.” You swallow the lump in your throat and she continues, “Don’t lie to me. Please” 

    “Why do you assume I’m lying?”

   “Other than the fact that I’m a world renown spy you mean? Or the fact that you never shut me out like you've been doing?” She turns towards you more and reaches out for your hand, and though you stiffened at the contact she isn’t deterred, “I know because I’ve been where you are, and I know it's a hell of a road to go down alone.”

    Part of you wants to admit that she's right, to confide in her like you normally would until your walls all come crashing down and you're letting everything out through tears while she wraps you up in her embrace. But the other part of you is still hesitant to be vulnerable, especially with Natasha. Once she saw those darker parts of you, those thoughts and feelings that you wish you didn't have but dealt with in some part daily, you were sure she’d turn away just like everyone else who offered to be there for you. And honestly that was something you knew your heart just couldn’t take. Not with meaning as much to you as she did now.

   “Hey” she gently calls out, likely sensing your inner turmoil, “You don’t have to suffer in silence alone, because you're not alone. I’m right here, and I hate seeing you like this. Please let me in. Even if I can’t help, I can at least be here to support you. Please don't keep shutting me out”

   You aren’t sure if it was the honesty and vulnerability in her voice, or the unshed tears in her eyes that finally had you breaking, but you suppose that didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that you were finally letting her in.

   “I don’t know what to do anymore Tasha” you admit as your voice trembles, and you push past your tears to keep going, “Everything just gets so hard and it's like I can’t even function. All I can do is the bare minimum, and thats so fuckin pathetic. I’m an adult, an Avenger for god's sake, and all I can do is lay in bed and wish I just didn’t even exist”

   “Detka(baby), no. It’s not pathetic, not at all. With everything you’ve gone through and how tough life has been for you, it makes sense that you’d have some days where that all just gets to be too much”

   You can’t help but scoff, “So many people have gone through what I have and they don’t struggle like this. And so many people have it worse. Just look at Bucky, or Wanda. Hell, even you- ”

   “Don’t do that, don’t compare your struggles to others. Everyones brains are different and everyone handles their traumas differently too. What matters is these things affect you, and sometimes you struggle because of them. That's it, no one else's situation bears any sort of weight on what you went through or how you deal with it.”She stresses, “You are allowed to feel how you feel, and you're allowed to not be okay.”

   A sob finally slips past your lips and without a second thought you're sitting up and flinging yourself at the redhead. She quickly wraps her arms around you and pulls you close, letting one hand soothe your back while her other gently cradles the back of your head. Your hands clutch at the fabric of her shirt tightly and you bury your face in the crook of her neck, letting your tears fall against her skin. She doesn’t mind honestly, she's just happy to be the one that you get to turn to when things get hard.

    “I just don’t wanna be here sometimes Tasha, it all gets to be too much.”

    “I know detka(baby), I know. But I am so proud of you for continuing on and so glad that you are here. You are so important. And even more so to me” she whispers, kissing the top of your head

    “I just feel so lost. So alone.”

    “I know, but I’ve got you now and I’m not letting you go. We’ll figure things out together. I promise. Whatever you need Y/n, therapy or time off missions, I’ll help you get it.” she says, tightening her hold on you, “Good days or bad, I’ll be right here.”

   The conviction she speaks with lets you know she means every word, and you know she’s not leaving your side.  You know you're safe in her embrace, and you feel incredibly grateful knowing she's going to be there to help care for you. And though you're still reeling from the turmoil within your head, you find yourself feeling like maybe things were going to start looking up from now on, as long as you had Natasha beside you.

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[cntloup]

Fem!Reader angst, hurt/comfort, body image issues due to pregnancy

He walks into your shared bedroom after he finds the living room empty and the lights off, “Love, you in here?” he asks, noticing you’re not asleep either as he previously thought.

He makes his way to the bathroom when his eyes land on the line of light at the foot of the door.

His eyebrows furrow in concern when he hears your hiccups and sniffles from the other side of the door, “You ok, lovie?” he asks worriedly, “Yeah! I’m fine!” you try to sound convincing but to no avail as your voice comes out weak and shaky.

“Can I open the door?” he asks and you wrestle with the thought of letting him come in or not. Do you want him to see you like this? “Yeah.” your mouth answers before your mind does.

You immediately regret it, but it’s too late now as the door opens and your husband sets his eyes on you, your body completely bare and trying to hide yourself, the parts that you hate, with your hands as best as you can.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with concern, walking up to you. You look like a deer caught in the headlights. In an instant, you hide behind the curtain.

“N-nothing’s wrong. I'll be out in a few minutes.” you try to get him to leave but he persists, “You know you can tell me anything, love. Please tell me what’s wrong. I'm worried about you.” he says from the other side of the curtain.

Within seconds, you burst into tears, not being able to control yourself anymore. “I-I fucking hate it. My body has changed so much. Nothing fits any more. I hate the way I look!” you finally blurt out to him through sobs and he can’t believe the words that reach his ears.

All this time, you were a goddess in his eyes. How could you not see it? How could you not feel beautiful? Didn't he show you enough how he felt?

But this is not your fault. Your body has gone through drastic changes due to your pregnancy. And it has taken a heavy toll on you, not only physically but mentally as well.

“Love, you’re beautiful, mesmerizing. You're a goddess. Please don't let these awful thoughts get into you.” he responds softly.

“Can I see you now please?” he questions, eager to see his beautiful wife after a long day, but more eager to get you to believe him.

“Y-yeah.” you reply weakly, hesitant. He slowly pushes the curtain away and steps in front of you. His eyes land on your naked form and he can see nothing but sheer beauty.

“Do you really mean it?” you ask shyly, still trying to hide. “ ‘course I mean it, love. You're drop-dead gorgeous.” he reassures you, “But I've changed so much!” you retort, on the verge of tears.

“Dove, you’ve been carrying our child for nine months. Of course that would cause some changes. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less beautiful now than you were before. You're so fuckin’ beautiful, love.” he responds, getting closer to you.

“How can I fight these thoughts away?” he murmurs only inches away from your face, feeling helpless, desperate to make you feel better.

Your heart swells with love as you look at your loving husband and a soft smile forms on your lips as you begin to feel secure.

You slowly remove your hands from your body, making his breath hitch in his throat, his eyes sparkling with love.

You take his hands in yours to pull him closer and he leans in to plant a loving kiss on your lips.

His hands find their way to your body, tenderly caressing the plush of your hips, slowly moving to your belly which is where you’re the most insecure about, making you gasp against his lips.

"It’s ok, love... It's just me." he reassures you in between kisses, his touch lingering, "I love you." he whispers into the kiss.

His sweet and tender touch, his loving words and his soft voice make you feel fuzzy. You feel safe in his arms.

His lips travel down to your neck and slowly lower and lower, kissing all the areas that you feel uncomfortable with. And you close your eyes, lost in a haze, savoring the feeling as he dotes on you.

He peppers soft kisses on your tummy, making you giggle. His heart flutters at the sound, happy that he managed to make you feel even a little better.

He wraps his arms around your waist, his head resting on your belly, “Better, love?” he asks, loving eyes looking up at you. “Yeah. Thanks, Si!... I love you too.” you reply with a warm smile, nuzzling his cheeks and buzzed head.

“Wanna take a shower?” you ask him, smirking. “I’d love to.” he responds, grinning widely.

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Kids Anger

Prompt: Kid and you have a huge fight, and in anger, Kid tells you to leave

~ Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Kid X Fem Reader X Killer

Killer watched the two of you fight as he often did. He learned early on which fights to step into to become the peacemaker and which ones to stay out of. You were yelling at Kid for going out of his way to fight a Marine ship and while everyone was alive, quite a few people were injured and the boat needed some major repairs. Even you had been shot in the shoulder during the battle amongst other injuries.

        “We won, didn’t we?! Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get off my goddamn back then” Kid was laying it on thick he was towering over you and it had been long since the rest of the crew made themselves scarce from your fight. Killer was in the corner leaning against the wall but you knew better than to try and get him to pick sides.

        “That’s not the point Kid. It was senseless, We got hurt for no reason, Not to mention the damage to Victoria Punk!” You were after all in charge of the crew's finances. A job Kid had given to you when he was too drunk to pay something off and it turned into plundering the entire village. We were never truly low on berries, Kid made sure of that, but you still would like to keep it above a certain threshold. “Nobody died this time but what about next time!?” It was another great concern of yours, Kid had already lost an arm and it took him god knows how long to wake up from that. It’s a sight you’d rather not relive.

        The two of you had been fighting for quite some time on the matter and neither side seemed to be letting up in this argument as both of you shot daggers at each other. “If I decide we attack that’s final. I’m you’re captain it shouldn’t matter what you think.” Kid slammed his fist into the wall right next to you. You tried not to flinch at the sudden and aggressive movement but couldn’t help but let out a little gasp, deciding to stare straight into his chest rather than make eye contact after such a weak display. “You can’t even fight, what do you even do around here to dare think you should even get a say in what I decide?!” Killer perks his head up at the sudden change the argument was taking. “A useless bitch like you should just stay out of the way” Your breath hitches at his word and you hear Killer yell Kid's name.

        You straighten your back, glancing up at your captain, blinking tears to stay away. His glare back at you is menacing and pissed, Your voice turns lower but unwavering, “If that’s how you feel..”

        “Feelings have nothing to do with this, facts are I let an absolute useless person onto this ship” His words dripping with venom that stung more than your shoulder, “If you can’t even listen to your captain's order maybe you should just leave.” It took a second for his words to sink in, waiting for him to retract his statement. But soon enough you whisper a fine under your breath before turning away and leaving the room. You could hear Killer starting his own fight with Kid at this point but it didn’t matter.

        You make your way to the captain's room, it’s where the three of you stayed after all, and start packing anything of yours that could fit into a single bag. You wince a bit as your shoulder starts to bleed from a sudden movement but still refuse to let tears escape. You look in the mirror once more, noticing just how tattered and covered in blood your clothes were, deciding to change into clean clothes one last time before continuing packing. Once the bag is full you head back to the deck and climb down a rope into the debris-ridden water below. You remember seeing a rowboat across the way from the now half sunk marine ship and you intended to use it.

~~~

        “What the fuck Kid” Killer gripped Kid's shoulder and turned him around as he could see y/n escape into the hallway, “What was that all about?” Killer couldn’t believe the words he had just heard from his captain and lover's mouth.

        “She fucken deserved it. What makes her think she can boss me around?” Kid was obviously still pissed beyond belief, huffing with anger in every breathe. He brushes past Killer, “If you need me I’ll be in my workshop.” Killer let out an exasperated sigh before trying to go find y/n on the ship.

~~~

By the time anyone had noticed you were gone, you had already found a row boat and started drifting away in the opposite direction of the ship.

Killer had told the rest of the crew to tell him when they find you but he had only assumed you needed some space after such a heated debate. He didn’t even bother to check the Captain’s Quarters, he doubted you wanted to be in such a place right now, if anything you’d be in a corner hitting the wall or a tight space to breathe and calm down. But as time went on, he grew increasingly more concerned at not hearing or seeing you.

Kid emerged from his workshop a couple of hours after the argument, cooled down a bit, and tired. The sun was long gone as he made his way to his room. In the past, your arguments could get out of hand but Kid could still find you angrily sleeping in his bed next to, or on top of Killer, begrudgingly making room for him. This time on the other, neither you nor killer were in bed, or even in the room for that matter.

He looked around to see your discarded clothes tossed on the ground and he noticed a lot more blood than he’d care to admit, had she been covered in this much when we were fighting? Regardless Kid turned on his heel to search for his two closest crew members.

Soon enough he ran into Hip who was carrying medical supplies, “Oh, Hey Captain. Have you seen y/n? She still hasn’t come to get patched up yet despite promising me she’d come later.” Kid stares at her for a second before she chuckles a bit, “Or did you take care of the wound yourself? How kind. Just remind her to change her bandages.” Kid stood there processing Hips words and she walked away chuckling. She was hurt? Why the fuck did she start a fight before getting treated? Kid started pacing the ship before he ran into an equally worried Killer.

“Kid have you seen y/n?” The taller blonde seemed to be anxious.

“Does it look like I’ve fucken seen her?” Kid snapped at his first mate, “Where the fuck could she have gone?”

~~~

You lay in the boat looking at the sky. The pain in your shoulder growing. You grit your teeth into some clothe as your fingers try to dig the bullet out. After another failed attempt you let out a painful, sorrow filled scream. You had realized a little to late into your little journey that when you were shot, the bullet never made it all the way through.

Truly, it was a great distraction from the events post battle. As you finally breathe in again you let your arm trying to dig the bullet out fall onto the floor of the boat. The adrenaline must have worn off at this point. The pain truly setting in as your mind wanders to what Kid said to you.

Finally, after hours of pretending to be strong. You let it out, you place your now bloodied hand on top of your eyes as the tears overflow.

[thejakeslayla]

hihii if it isn't too much to ask, could you make a oneshot of either an argument w comfort of riki or sweet intimate (i mean like tooth rotting fluff heheh) moment w riki?

pairing bf!niki x gn!reader ୨୧ genre fluff, idol au, established relationship, hurt with comfort ୨୧ warnings: argument, niki neglecting his health ୨୧

your arguments didn’t happen so often, the relationship you had with niki was closer to peaceful. but when they happened it tended to get tense. especially with your boyfriend losing his temper and saying stuff he doesn’t really mean, which also occurred this time.

“niki, i’m just telling you that you need to rest,” you urged as he settled on the couch beside you. having observed his exhaustion, as he came back home, you could tell he practiced more than he should by how he went to bed straight after stepping his foot in your shared apartment, you expressed concern. “you barely ate today, i’m just worried about you,” placing a gentle hand on his thigh, you awaited a response.

but niki remained silent, seemingly organizing his thoughts. recognizing the need to give him space, you sat in quiet contemplation, studying his side profile.

“i don’t need your nagging every single time that i get home tired, this is my work. i thought you got used to it by now,” he retorted, his words piercing your heart.

"please, just tell me what's wrong," you implored, but his volume escalated.

"how many times do i have to repeat myself? i. don't. need. your. nagging." each word accented with frustration.

he looked at you, genuine anger in his eyes, as yours conveyed confusion and sadness. you didn’t know what to say, his anger caught you off guard; previously, he hadn't seemed bothered by your concerns for his health. unsure of what triggered this outburst, you refrained from further conversation, knowing it could worsen the situation.

so, you just stood up, quietly leaving the room. your heart ached. but you basically couldn’t do anything, your boyfriend was too stubborn, you knew you are not able to talk him out of this. you entered the bedroom, sitting down on the bed you just thought what could happen or maybe some of your words hurt him? you began to spiral in your thoughts, overthinking everything you said since niki arrived home.

as hours passed and night fell, you heard niki moving around the house. however, he never entered the bedroom where you sat. a heavy sigh leaving your lips, as you realised you need to be the one breaking the silence between you. when you stepped outside the room, you bumped into someone, which you quickly realised was no other than niki.

surprised, you both made noises, and he quickly moved away, his hand poised to knock on the door. apologetic and regretful look on his face, he spoke, "y/nnie, i'm sorry. i was just extremely tired. i didn't mean to burst out like that."

"it's okay, riki. you're allowed to feel tired; you're human," you reassured him with a weak smile. seeing your forgiveness, you noticed how the weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"is it okay if i hug you now?" he asked, your smile widened, and you agreed.

"of course," and with that, he quickly pulled you towards him, pressing your cheek to his chest as he tightly embraced you.

"i'm sorry," he repeated as you wrapped your arms around him.

"there's nothing to be sorry about; it's okay now," you assured him. pulling away slightly, he kissed the top of your head. niki mumbled something, which you just couldn’t make out. after asking him to repeat himself, he did so with pride and clarity.

“i love you, y/n.”

smiling into his chest, you squeezed him slightly. "i love you too. let's go to bed and talk, okay? i want to hear about your day." looking up, you witnessed your boyfriend's beautiful smile spreading across his face.

requests: open

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