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#I just want to be able to thank him for his part in it
arieslost · 2 days
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getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙
this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3
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kiss me | ln4
you’re sure you’re seeing things.
you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.
a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.
“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.
the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.
“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.
“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”
he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.
“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.
you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”
“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.
“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”
“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”
“so you just buy me a car?!”
he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”
“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.
“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.
“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.
“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”
“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.
“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”
you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”
“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.
“go away. i’m mad at you.”
“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.
you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.
“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.
“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.
“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.
“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.
“no thanks.”
“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.
you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.
“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.
“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.
“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”
“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.
“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?
he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”
you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.
“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”
“what do you love more, me or the car?”
“the car, obviously.”
he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.
“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”
“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.
damn him.
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word count: 860
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note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me
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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 2 days
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4: UNDERCOVER MISSION
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.
Word count: 4.2k
Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass
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The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.
"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed. 
You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology. 
"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.
"How does it feel, Jamie?"
 Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."
"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"
You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.
“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”
She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.
“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”
The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.
"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"
Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?
"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.
“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”
“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.
"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily. 
You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.
“I’m sorry, I-I-”
“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”
You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.
“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”
You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”
Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”
Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”
With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.
*
Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.
"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.
"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.
"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically. 
"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"
It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."
His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."
Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.
"Cricket?"
"Is everything okay between us?"
"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.
"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."
"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.
"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."
"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"
Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."
You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."
"Then what is it? What is your problem?"
You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"
"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.
Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.
"Hello?" you answered the device.
Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.
"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"
You nodded, sadly.
"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"
"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."
"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."
"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."
The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.
"This one's important. We all need this to work."
"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.
Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.
Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.
Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days. 
"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.
"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.
Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!
"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.
Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.
He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes.  You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.
"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.
"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.
The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.
But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.
"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."
Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."
And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.
The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough. 
*
Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.
Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.
And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.
The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay. 
As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.
Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.
The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.
You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?
"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.
You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."
Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.
"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.
"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.
He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.
"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.
You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"
It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.
Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"
"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.
"Can't fuck anything else."
You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.
His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"
Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.
"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"
"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."
"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.
"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.
"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.
"What is it?"
"The competition."
"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."
"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?" 
"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."
"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.
"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."
It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.
"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.
"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."
"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."
Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.
"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."
Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.
"Ohhhh James!"
Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"
"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."
"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."
You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.
"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"
Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.
"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.
Focus! You told yourself.
"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall.  "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."
"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.
You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.
"Are you serious?" he muttered.
"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.
Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you. 
Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.
Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.
"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."
Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.
"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.
"I'm going to make you come so hard." 
"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.
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tremendum · 3 days
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.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:
Me and the Devil; i
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(not my gif) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·: Paul Atreides x fem!reader prelude next
word count: 5.3k
summary:  Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 
warnings: blood/violence, family deaath, v brief allusions to smut/dubcon, reader is traumatized. pls lmk if i missed anything. not edited.
notes: thanks for all the love so far!!! here's the first chapter of the story - if you want to stay updated, i post on AO3 first :) just a quick first chapter to lay the scene before we jump into the engaging parts of the story. feedback is very motivating and highly valued, thank u all <33
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Penitent Crimes of Retaliation
In accordance with the legal doctrine of the 'Reprisal Accord', as sanctioned by the High Court of the Landsraad, houses are granted the right to retaliate against proven offenses committed upon them. This action shall such be labelled as "Penitent Crimes of Retaliation". Under this mandate, should sufficient evidence be presented, the aggrieved house may initiate a retaliatory strike and engage in warfare against the offending party. While reparations for damages incurred during the conflict are mandated, perpetrators shall be exempt from criminal sentences, ensuring a balanced recourse within the framework of inter-house disputes."
- From the Reprisal Accord, Office of the Padishah Emperor. Imperium, 10041. 
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There was once a time when green was your favorite color. 
You'd enjoyed a childhood of it; Peridot, Jades, the velvet green of winter dresses, the tall, mighty green the sacred Pine. The woven banner of your house, waving in the snow-whipped wind; A snarling green wolf upon the grey armor your parents wore to train you. 
When the men of one other Houses Major arrived to retrieve your older sister, she'd been shroud in that very same pine-colored satin, an elegant dress, as she waved good-bye to you for the last time. When the ice would melt off the lower glaciers for those three months every year, the lakes would thaw to a deep emerald green, and your brother, sisters and you would play in it; servants and soldiers alike yelling and pulling you out, shivering to your bones. 
Even at your sister's funeral. The green of the casket, laid to rest in the ground of a foreign planet by a man who'd never truly loved her. The women of your House, wearing a veil of mourning in that sacred pine satin as you said good-bye to her. Killed by the birth of her first; a son. Your parents had been proud - You became the oldest of your siblings that day.
You can barely stand to look at green anymore. No, instead, you mostly see black.
Black, white, and red. 
They'd sent you away to make for your house a Fortune; a son, they'd wished, for your sake - and, by whispers of your Lady Mother, a daughter - but this place... it crawls with shadows and monsters and deadly smiles; most in the form of your betrothed.
Your na-Baron. 
If Feyd-Rautha ever had a semblance of hesitancy, it was when you first met four years ago. You were at the end of your seventeenth year; he, freshly eighteen. He had been as cordial as you'd ever seen him, escorting you with an arm held out, eyes malicious but mouth less than offensive. He'd even called you Lady Bourbon those first few months on Giedi Prime. And, in fact, you can consider yourself lucky; perhaps for your bloodline, or for you yourself, Feyd-Rautha took special care of you. Maybe he did care for you -in the ways that he could. 
After that, he taught you all you needed to know about the rest of the world. In these final days together, he has admitted furiously that he waited too long to claim you as his wife - four years was much too long for you to wait, even if your purity was claimed by him long before then. 
The accusations had come from his uncle, the Baron; House Bourbon was stealing their precious refinery codes, committing treason against the trading accords along their exportation route. Perhaps, he thought, you were the one to plot it against your beloved future family.
But Feyd-Rautha knew better - knew that you'd never dare betray him. He was the one to demand a public execution of your family - but also the one to redirect your sentencing to a mere prisoner. As if you weren't one already. 
Don't look away. See what we do to scum, my pet? 
After all the sparring, each time you drew that precious blood from him, and you still haven't been able to kill him. If you'd had a blade, you would have, right there in the stands. 
You were, in some ways, relieved when their bodies had hit the sand fast; You'd never seen your brother's skin so reflective as you did this morning. The black sun couldn't hide the blood that had seeped from him, nor from your mother's throat. You'd swallowed thickly, wishing you could look away, gasp - cry; but you had to hide your pain. Your na-Baron would've loved it too much.
Why don't you leave me with them, then? You'd hissed through your teeth.
Though he was wild and psychotic, growling with hunger at the bloodsport in front of him, he heard you for what you'd said. Feyd's fingers pulled your hair hard; forcing your chin to stare up at him. A sickly glint in the black sun, his teeth shone with hunger. 
You'd have me throw you to your Wolves, and lose my prize? He'd tutted, kissing your forehead with a sickening sweetness; enough so that the servants had turned away their spider-black gazes. They didn't care much for the acts of affection you'd occasionally show one another - in a world marred by ugliness, any glimpse of beauty becomes a hauntingly grotesque show of power.
He'd snarled, slapping your cheek hard enough for you to groan. His breath hit your face, you're mine to keep - there's plenty of life left for you to serve.  
He'd held your eyes open as they'd slit your father's throat; then both of your sisters, and your brother's. Your mother had fought as much as she could in her drugged state - the Harkonnens are rutheless, and Feyd-Rautha had sat calmly behind you, your head in his hands, caressing your shaking cheek - but the neckline of her gown was too high, and too thickly inlaid with encrusted heirlooms. 
Bless their voided souls.
The emeralds that tore from her gown as she'd spilled her blood to the sand sent a ripple of pain out of your throat. Feyd had buried his face in your neck, teeth sharp as he sucked a mark just behind your ear, watching as you clenched your palms so hard, your own ruby blood beaded out, blackened in the sun's light.
If anybody would have bothered to look before burning the bodies, you know they'd find all the family diamonds sewn into the fabric of their clothing - centuries of your House, melted away.
Feyd-Rautha had drank up your agony with his lips, smiling as his hand wrapped around your throat. 
Now, alone and away from the thick industrial air, your chambers are cold and suffocating.
There are screams coming from the hall - not the kind that you've grown to associate with your na-Baron testing his new blades, but the kind that comes with danger. With change. 
As it turns out, you are not Feyd-Rautha's to keep any longer.
A loud noise outside of your quarters jolts you from your bed, whispering to yourself. They're coming for you. Pulling the sheets closer to your body, your hand finds the blade gifted to you on your nameday three years ago by your husband-to-be, still tainted with the ghost of your own blood.
Your whispers reverberate in the empty room. "I must not fear. fear is the mind-killer. fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me."
Your voice shakes. Few things remain from your early days of training, before you were sent off to become a Harkonnen; This is one is a relic.
There is a loud noise just outside; blades. 
For a moment, you imagine there is a hand on your arm. It is strong, ghost-white, and possessive. His voice rumbles in your head. Don't look so sad, my pet. I will never let them keep what is mine. I will find you again. 
You almost wish he will. 
When you look down to the weight on your arm, you do not find the hand of your once-betrothed, but the remainder of his ownership, a handprint of a bruise that will not fade even as the soldiers in Atreides armor deliver you to the next planet.
You rise from your bed, preparing your sore body for a fight that will surely end before it even starts. You don't stop your old prayer, in fact, you hardly notice that you're saying it at all. Even as the doors give in. 
"-and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I will remain-" There are soldiers that burst through.
The way one of them fights strikes a faint memory from a lost childhood, and it fills you with rage. 
Why did you wait so long to rescue me?
You lunge, snarling like the wild beast you've become in your captivity. You will fight, because that is the only thing you know how to do. It is the only thing you have left. 
Your blade falls within minutes.
You're taken by the man from your past not a minute after. 
You're on a ship, watching the black Opiuchi B disappear, in an hour. 
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"My Lady."
You don't realize the worker addresses you until you snap out of it, flushing behind your veil as you step out of the aircraft.
The dress you wear, salvaged from your family's old castle, is dusty. 
It clings to your skin, drowns you, as the rain falls. A staff of House Atreides holds an umbrella above you, shielding your elaborate dress from the water as you walk up towards where the members of the House await you. You stare down at the dress - green velvet. A texture you have not felt in years; your skin looks different not wrapped completely in black.
Your eyes strain to take in the grand entrance to the castle from the hangar which Duncan Idaho had escorted you, ignoring him as he turns to glance back at you momentarily. You can't bear the look of unfamiliarity that flickers over him when he looks at you, now.  
He looks the same - maybe less tall, but that has more to do with it having been six years since you last saw the man. You, however, are not the same girl you were when he knew you on Sabberon. Fear, panic, and wrath rage within you while your gaze smolders daggers at the back of his head. 
He walks just slightly in front of you and despite yourself, you slide just a bit closer - the only semblance of comfort you can allow yourself to feel as you take in the largess of the castle. The air is thicker here than you've ever felt; salty, windy, like you can taste the sea in the rain... it clings to your skin, but it feels clean. You'd been changing into your robes when you entered atmo - you've heard many things about the ocean, about Caladan. 
Something within you yearns to witness it yourself. Subtly, you crane your neck outwards to catch a glimpse; nothing in the near distance but the walls of the castle and high cliffs. 
You nearly trip as Duncan Idaho stops just a few paces from where the members stand at attention to greet you and your retinue.
Duke Leto Atreides, regal and composed, stands at the center of the room, his presence commanding your attention. Beside him, a woman wearing a deep cerulean gown - Lady Jessica. Easily, from behind your own veil, her gaze penetrates you; A cool sensation down your spine as you seem to feel her words in the back of your head as she watches the Reverend Mother who'd travelled with you per High Court orders.
 Hello, sister.
You purse your lips, looking on - there, next to his mother; Standing tall with an aura of quiet intensity, his eyes on you, is Paul Atreides.
The son to whom you're now destined.
Even from your obstructed vision, you can see that he's handsome - lithe, hair curled and combed back to show his eyes. They are wide, penetrating like his mother's, but Maker, they are so green. 
There is no hunger in his eyes, nor hatred, nor anything but a mild curiosity; it strikes a chord of fear in your gut, wishing briefly to return to the na-Baron's sight. It was easy to go unseen with the Harkonnens; They always made their intentions clear, and the na-Baron never wanted many to see you besides himself. You always knew what he wanted, and you could give it to him enough to control him. 
But Paul. His stare betrays no emotion but duty. If not for the boyish pout of his pink lips and his freshly-shaven jaw, you could have mistaken him for his father. A Duke. 
Your name, boomed from the voice of Leto Atreides, pulls you back to the surface of Caladan. "Welcome." Duke Leto's voice resonates through the hall with authority as he addresses you, his tone measured yet warm. Your stomach twists and turns as the man nods courteously to you. Coaxing your body to move, you bow to him.
"We are honored by your presence." His voice is surprisingly humane, exceedingly polite towards you; someone who was just come from the protection (a laughable phrase) of their sworn enemy. 
Your throat tightens at this. There is no honor to your presence, not anymore. 
Though you feel the prickling behind your eyes, you force your head to tilt in acknowledgment, schooling your expression to respectful - perhaps they can't quite make out your face, but Lady Jessica watches closely. She sees.
You take a sharp breath, swallowing away the lump of emotion in your throat. 
"Thank you, Duke Leto, my lord." Your voice carries steel beneath its polite, quiet veneer, though you try to calm your heart. You turn to Lady Jessica to greet her.
"My Lady, it is a pleasure." You say, equally even. Lady Jessica offers a tight smile, something akin to understanding swimming among her irises. It's been quite some time since you were permitted to talk to a woman; Your servants on Giedi Prime were, of course, tongue-less, as na-Baron wished. "Thank you for welcoming me to your home." 
"We understand that these are trying times for you." She says softly, her words a gesture of solidarity as your legs stagger. You feel dizzy and tired, but you force yourself to nod, bowing again. Your chained headdress overlaying your veil chimes slightly with the movement, swaying with the rain.
For such an acclaimed House, you're surprised by the gentleness of their welcome. Perhaps, they'd thought that the groaning and echoing hallways of Giedi Prime might break you, that they'd be taking in some injured little dove, wings clipped by the ferocious boy who'd gifted her with a knife plunged between her ribs on her nameday. 
The scar that lies just below your breast on your right side serves not as a reminder, but as fuel. It did not quell your spark. It ignited it, with a bloodthirsty rage for revenge.
Months of being thrown into a pit under the glaring black sun; Not the arena that assassinated your family, no - this pit was smaller, with one large seat for the na-Baron himself, and drugged concubines and servants with blades to service his na-Baroness. A place to watch his pets play. 
Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. 
Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 
Lady Jessica is correct, these are trying times for you. You swallow as you straighten your back. Despite everything, there's a minor comfort in the Atreides' insistence of providing you with the necessities for you to perform your traditional customary mourning traditions. Your family may be gone, but you can still have this part of them; as a way of saying good-bye. It's what they would have wanted. 
You turn to the young man who stands next to Lady Jessica.
The Harkonnens had tried to show you the dangers of house Atreides; The poison of appearance, of trust. You are not foolish enough to have believed the Baron Vladimir and his webs of deception, but you are sharp enough to know that in times like these, nobody can be trusted. 
Your betrothed watches you, as if trying to see through your mourning veil. The green of his eyes sends a warmth through your stomach as you avert your eyes. "My Lord," you bow to him, your heart thumping in your chest, remembering how you might be rewarded for looking your formerly betrothed in the eyes during ceremony. Trying not to flinch, you wait to see what Paul's hands may do. But they do not strike you, nor grasp your jaw sharply. He barely moves. 
"My Lady." His voice is softer than you expected, and it strikes your heart with a cool unease. Distrust slithers around you like a daunting snake. He bows back to you. 
It's silent for a thick moment before Duncan Idaho - the man from a distant past - speaks from beside you. "We have much to discuss." 
Cutting to the chase, as always. Your eyes fall to the Duke, who nods. "Do you need to see treatment?" He asks the Swordsman, eyes assessing the soldier. 
Duncan laughs at this, gesturing to his arm, where beads of blood still slowly peeks through his the tunic he'd slipped on after changing out of his armor.
"Harkonnen blades are sharp. So are Lady Bourbon's nails."
The prickling of four pairs of eyes strike you as he continues, turning this time to address you full-on. "Your fighting is much different than I remember, Little Bourbon." 
What he doesn't say is clear to you: Much more savage than he remembers. Something between shame and pride licks at your cheeks and you avert your eyes; It had been a force of habit - rabid hounds don't tuck tail when cornered, do they?
You clench your hand, your nails digging into your palms; you learned early on that sharper claws could keep Feyd tame for longer. 
The force of Duncan's old nickname for you, when you'd been young - it nearly knocks the air out of your chest. It's been over half a decade since you'd seen the man; too much has happened since then. Nonetheless, you smile toothless behind the veil, trying not to think of the life you'd just left behind. Of what cold life lies ahead. 
When you respond, your voice is frigid. 
"Sometimes adaptation is survival, Duncan Idaho. Threats demand evolution." 
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The rain is gone by the next day.
In the morning room, forks scrape over blue-plated China. There must be a clock somewhere near, as the seconds pass in quiet, insistent ticks. A cleared throat, a swallow of water. 
Your eyes burn from exhaustion.
Your arrival last night held no such time for small talk - you were whisked away by the service staff to make sure your quarters were comfortable; Your old clothing and that of your sisters and mother - the few things the Atreides soldiers had salvaged from the ransacked Castle at Sabberon - had been washed thrice of rubble and smoke and were hanging, waiting for you, in the wardrobes. 
Barely awake, late in the evening, you'd attended a meeting in a small conference hall. There, sat across from Lord Paul, Masters of War and Swords and Strategy, a Mentat, and the Lady Jessica, the Duke had asked you questions, ensuring you were not harmed - more importantly, trying to ensure there was no malicious intent to your presence. Your eyes could not ignore the Lady Jessica, who stood behind the Duke, her fingers twitching to the others when you responded to a question asked of you. They had some kind of language, you'd realized, as they responded in their own subtle hand gestures. 
You'd only been there for ten minutes before you were escorted by a handmaid back to your chambers, where you sat without rest through the night. 
Truthfully, you're breaking fast with Lady Jessica and Lord Paul out of courtesy; You were up far before the sun had found the horizon this morning, staring emotionless at the ghost who stood in the corner of your new chambers.
You'd sat watching, cradling your chest with wide eyes, as the ghost slid onto his knees. How he'd crawled, smirking at the foot of your mattress, whispering to you with sharp teeth and beckoning fingers. The sweet promise in his eyes laid with blood and pain, coaxing you forward despite yourself - until something in the corner of your vision moved, and you'd screamed. 
That had woken one of the servants.
She came in with her head tilted down, holding a pitcher of water, and you'd asked her to stay.
Her name is Hestia; she must barely be twenty. You insisted on sharing a pot of tea with her, sitting in the silence but sipping shortly on your teacups. You didn't talk much, but instead breathed and felt the safety and of a woman's company, even if she is a few years younger than you. 
It wasn't until she'd brought you breakfast a few minutes later that you realized the staff must have been informed of your courting customs before your arrival - she said nothing as you ate silently, staring out towards the coast of rocky cliffs and rolling moors you could just barely make out from your chamber windows. 
And now you sit similarly - in the morning dining room, your hands perched in your lap, unsure what to do with yourself.
Your future husband, no older than yourself, sits across the table from you now, pushing his omelet around on his fork. The table shakes just slightly, jilting your glass full of water - he must have a restless knee. He chews at his lip, avoiding your stare, sharing slight conversation with his Lady mother. Her attempts to bring you into the conversation are met with polite answers and more silence, your voice shaky and cold. 
After a while, a woman enters, whispers something to the Lady at the end of the table. Nodding, Lady Jessica takes her leave with a pointed look at Paul, suggesting he might escort you around the castle to settle you in.
Though your stomach coils, you nod, "-if you have time, my Lord, I'd appreciate it."
His eyes find yours from behind the veil and you clear your throat. He's quiet but chivalrous; A nod, a glance sent back to his mother as she leaves. A short gust of air through the room and suddenly you can smell him. His hair, clean and glossy - healthy - glints as he faces a window, exposing the early morning sun to his bright eyes.
It's silent for a few moments as only the two of you remain; Your food untouched and his half-eaten. 
"Are you one of them?" 
Them?
You stare at him from behind the thin pine veil that covers you. It occurs to you that Paul may assume you are just as bald and sick as each Harkonnen; years of adapting, surviving off of instinct and placation, are over. With a jolt, you realize you are not a Harkonnen. And you will not be wed to one.
You shake your head, thankful for the lack of chains upon the crown of your head today, ignoring the melancholy feeling in your gut. 
"I have hair." You state simply, looking down at the skin of your arm; The skin that boasts arm hair, none of the sickly pale skin that knew of no clean air nor healthy sunlight - your skin, glowing with real melanin like the House of Bourbon.
You'd never spoken this freely on Giedi Prime besides in the sole company of Feyd-Rautha - stars, you'd never have spoken this freely at home on Sabberon, either - but there is no home anymore. And if you've learned one thing in your years since coming of age, its that the Great and Noble Houses of the Landsraad are crawling with perjurers, fabricators. 
Paul is likely the same. 
If the Atreides boy must be wed to you, you cannot help that, just as you couldn't help with Feyd-Rautha. They can dress you, insist in your traditional customs - but you will not go down easy. No matter how cold the home, you can be colder. You are more than the bones which hold you up; Meaner than the demons that kept you in their ghostly-grip for four years. 
His cheeks flush a peculiar pink, bottom lip captured between pearly teeth. "No," he starts again, eyes searching - trying to find you, beneath the layers of green that wrap around you. "Not Harkonnen-" he quiets after he says the name, as if worried to offend you. "I meant-" his eyes swim, "Bene Gesserit." 
Your stomach chills as you meet his eyes. 
After some hesitation, you shake your head. "No, my Lord."
When he blinks at your words, you feel compelled to continue. "I suppose I was..." you move your hand to pull on the sleeve of your robes.
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"or, I was supposed to be." your unemotional tone rings through the room. Paul doesn't say anything to that, biting back the suspicion that climbs up his throat.
He stands when you rise from your seat; Your mourning dress, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, flows like the leaves of a weeping willow as you push your chair in behind you. When he offers a stiff arm to escort you out of the room, you hesitate before looping yourself loosely to him. 
She is telling the truth. 
His mother had indicated, with flicks of her hand, during the meeting the evening before; you, sat before the Atreides' council, unaware that his mother was reading your honesty. 
But that could be a trick; you've admitted to being partially trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, perhaps you found a way to deceive his mother. As much as he trusts Duncan and his father, he can't shake the suspicion that you're a mere pawn in the Harkonnens' game.
But his father's words burn sharply into his mind. 
Duty often requires us to navigate paths we may not have chosen for ourselves, Paul. You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future spouse. Love may come in other ways - but you will marry her, and together you will sire an heir when the time comes.
By decree, it was ordered you be wed to Paul, but he can't find it within himself to lose the feeling of distrust. He has spent hours learning about the Harkonnens - how they think, their strategy; and yet, from Duncan's account, the Baron and his nephew just let you go. It makes no sense to him. 
"I was supposed to be a lot of things." 
Your voice is undeniably beautiful; strong, much more resolute than he'd expected. But you are extremely cold, and evidently unwilling. Polite, yes - it seems you've been trained just as he and every other young noble of the Great Houses have - but you are calculating, aggressive.
He saw the claw marks you'd left upon Duncan; a man you've known since you were a young girl.
You walk with your chest out, back straight like a soldier; your words are cordial yet laced with steel and indifference - it only serves to deepen his unease. He guides you through the castle, murmuring quietly as he shows you along, introducing you to various members of staff who stop and bow in recognition. 
You don't say much until he escorts you to a path that winds down out of your sights; Below the castle, between jagged rocks, Paul finds himself concerned to no longer be surrounded by castle walls. Beside him, you take a deep breath, your footsteps faltering as you slow to stare at moss that sprawls across the cobblestone. 
Curiously, Paul slows to a stop beside you.
For a moment, you stare down at the dirt and fallen tree limbs, the grassy fields and rocks. Soon, as though an invisible string pulls you upwards, you snap your head, voice sheepish behind your veil. "Apologies, my Lord." You start to turn away. "I've read of plants like this, but never seen them before in person." 
Paul is suddenly struck by the realization that you may not have seen much of any flora nor fauna on Caladan. He knows what Giedi Prime is like; and your homeworld, from what he'd read last night before bed, was mostly full of Glaciers, forests, and high altitudes. Perhaps you are interested in such things; the idea surprises him. 
So instead of moving along, he finds himself bending to pull off a bit of the moss from a fallen trunk. The earthy dirt spreads between his nimble fingers, the green bright against his skin. You watch him silently.
"It absorbs up to twenty times its dry weight in water." He says it quietly, repeating what he'd learned in an ecological lesson, pushing on the spongy material with his thumb. "Banks of it grow just around the brackish tidepools outside the castle." 
Your interest, piqued, causes your head to crane slightly from your short height - he can tell, even without seeing any part of your face, that you are fascinated. "Am I allowed to see?" You ask stiffly, your arms by your sides.
An initial wave of protectiveness over his home washes over him; remembering his father's words, he forces his shoulders to relax. He lets the moss fall back to the stump, brows furrowing. 
"You are to be Lady Atreides, one day." He tries to school his voice evenly, avoiding any hint of resistance to this fact. "You do not have to ask permission to see your own land." 
The wind from the sea whips around you; his stray curls fly in his vision. There are no words from you for several very long breaths, in which you clear your throat. 
"I do not feel well, my Lord." You say moments later, voice cordial but thick with the desire to be alone, "I believe I am sick from travel. Please, if you would excuse me." 
He is unsure if he had made you uncomfortable or if you are truly feeling sick; nonetheless, Paul escorts you to your chambers silently, calling one of the handmaids - Hestia, her name is - to check on you. He insists she bring you some bread and cheese, to draw you a bath if you please. 
His jaw clenches; he's to train with his mother soon, but he needs release. His muscles clench in repressed frustration and so Paul lets his feet carry him swiftly to the training quarters.
His fingers itch for a blade; his mind itches to forget about the last day, about the cold life that lies ahead of him. 
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 3 days
Text
Grim Reaper!Ghost*Reader that’s always alone
You and Simon were lovers, after you both died, you reincarnated, but Simon was forced to become a Grim Reaper, that’s why you’re always lonely because Simon didn’t reincarnate.
People near their death usually can’t see grim reapers, but for some reasons, you can see Ghost in every of your life before your death, but you don’t remember him.
Yet he remembers you, remembers the love, and every encounter with you in different life, but what waits for him is the endless cycle of seeing you forget him, and watch you live lonely till your end.
1.
“Are you here to bring me to the afterlife?” Ghost hear you ask as you look straight at him.
“You can see me.”
“Does that mean it’s almost the time?”
“you still got some time.”
“Okay then.”
He senses the slight disappointment in your tone. Maybe it’s because the fear of death isn’t a thing when you live alone the whole time and have nothing left and worried.
2.
You are talkative, every time you wake up, you keep rambling, but not annoying, Ghost must admit, actually he enjoys hearing your cheerful voice.
“Oh, wait, What’s your name, Sir?”
“Call me Ghost.”
“Ghost, nice to meet you.”
He only gives you a grunt as a response, but you seem quite satisfied, and go back to tell him your experience again.
3.
You can’t say things anymore, most of your time is in a coma, Ghost looks at your pale face, the empty ward is silent except for the beeping of the monitor.
Time for them isn’t important anymore, so he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at you, until you stir a bit, and open your eyes slowly.
“Yeah, it’s time to go.” He tells you softly, he knows what you want to ask.
He watches you blink a few times, before beckoning him to come closer.
Ghost reaches out his hand, letting you write things on it, even though you can’t really touch him.
He patiently waits for you to finish.
Thank you, Ghost.
He knows what you’re thanking for: having his company at the end of your life.
“Call me Simon.” He coos.
Your eyes widen a bit, and again, you write a wobbly “Simon” on his palm.
He sees the corner of your eyes crinkle, and he reminds himself, don’t tell you how much he craves to hear you call him by his real name.
4.
Ghost stands at the corner of the ward.
The room is in chaos, doctors and nurses rushing around, trying their best to save you from dying, but it’s impossible, because you’re leaving the world today.
He walks to your side when one of the nurses covers your face with white clothes.
The whole thing will happen again. You will reincarnate, live a lonely life, and he will see you living in solitude, wait until the last part of your life and you’re able to see him, but forget everything, including the fact that you two were lovers before.
A kiss lands on your covered lips as he takes your soul, and vanishes in a blink of an eye.
a/n: just some brainrot that I really need to get rid of :D
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wishlistcharles · 22 hours
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secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1
Tumblr media
max verstappen x perez!fem reader
genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy
cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything
word count: 3.1k
song: too sweet - hozier
sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3
♡♡♡♡
The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish. 
It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you. 
A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him. 
Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate. 
Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted. 
You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a  black  over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.
Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth. 
A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance. 
“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”
With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption. 
Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances. 
As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel. 
“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.
“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries. 
“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.
“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room” 
“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.
“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me” 
Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it” 
“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer. 
Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”
“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around” 
“You are really close with them, aren't you?”
“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them” 
“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.
“Do you want something to drink” he offers
“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone. 
“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”
Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.
“Is there something on my face?” You laugh
“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”
“Really? How so?” You question
“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck. 
“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface” 
“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms” 
He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you. 
You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan. 
Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”. 
He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible. 
You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”. 
“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more. 
Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours” 
You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this” 
“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.
You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him. 
“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”
That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.
You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive. 
“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n” 
You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”. 
You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.
As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet. 
Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.
That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.
Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.
The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod. 
Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him. 
You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity.  You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room. 
You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared. 
You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way. 
The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted. 
Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that. 
After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry. 
Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant? 
Simple. You won't. 
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siredtosturniolos · 2 days
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First of all I’m sorry if this is the wrong place to send requests in. I’m new to tumblr so I have no clue how to use this platform 😭anyways I have a request I’m begging on hands and knees for a chris fic where reader is 18 and he’s 23. reader is a influencer (u can make up where they met) ENEMIES TO LOVERS KINDA and SMUTTTTTTT with praising (lots of praising and pet names) u can make up the whole story it should just be based off these things thank uuuu
Enemies
Paring: Chris Sturniolo x reader 
Summary: You had socially climbed the ladder to fame and gotten your very own spot on the Vidcon lineup. Freshly 18 meant you were fully able to go on your own, and meet some of your favorite content creators yourself. And Chris. You didn’t particularly like him, as he had been rude to you ever since you met him. You confront him and things turn a different direction than you thought.
Warnings: Smut! Praising, pet names, enemies to lovers(kinda? Maybe this means part 2?). Read at your own risk and mdni! (First pov) 
Authors note: thank you for requesting this! I hope you like it. <3
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
Walking the halls of VidCon the day before the event took place really helped me ground myself. I couldn’t believe I was here, let alone someone thousands of fans wanted to meet. I started a YouTube channel in October of 2021, and it’s only gone up from there. Posting various forms of content such as vlogs, get ready with me, makeup tutorials, and even a couple cooking videos. 
I just hit 5 million subscribers, so on top of doing VidCon I was also hosting my own meet and greet the day after. I was hoping to make some connections and see if anyone would want to come celebrate this milestone with me. 
Even though I have been successful for a while now, I had just moved to LA last month. I’ve been to a party here and there, making a few friends along the way. I take a seat on a bench outside to soak up some sun, and so I can really reflect on what my life has become. 
Jake, Johnnie, and Tara are supposed to be here today as well and I couldn’t be more thankful. They had introduced me to so many of their friends in the last few weeks, most of them being welcoming.
Larray and I had clicked instantly and had hung out a few times, but he wasn’t set to be here this weekend. He had already made plans with other friends so he couldn’t come keep me company. He promised me that Nick Sturniolo would be down to let me hangout with him until I was comfortable, and I was super appreciative of that. 
Chris Sturniolo though? Not so much. I’ll never forget the way his eyes raked down my body, stopping at my chest for a moment before he looked back up at my face. 
“Hey baby, I don’t think we’ve met before?” 
I rolled my eyes at how corny he was, slightly drunk and incredibly stupid. Once he realized he wasn’t getting in my pants he had completely ignored me. I also met Nick and Matt later on, and they were absolute sweethearts. 
Ever since that night any time a fan would bring me up in a live stream of his, he’d ask them to either stop talking, or call me boring and move on to the next question. I had reached out to him asking him to stop, as his fanbase had jumped to my socials and started going insane. 
Every time I messaged him, he’d read it and not respond. Nick would occasionally bring me up in videos and it was clear as day Chris didn’t like me, and his fans made it known. Clipping it and tagging me thousands of times nearly made me delete TikTok all together. 
I had come to find out Chris was actually really nice to everyone, just not me. I’m not quite sure what I could’ve done to make him be so rude to me, but it’s not like I see him all the time. Maybe I’ll have a chance to speak to him in person, and make him really hear me out. 
“Y/N!” A voice called out to me, making me jump. I watched as Jake walked up to me, “Tara has been looking for you, yapping about getting ready for tonight.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders. 
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Tonight?” I ask, standing from the bench and letting him lead me to Tara. “They’re hosting a party tonight for us at the hotel apparently. Something to kick off the event? Fuck if I know.” Jake laughed. 
The next few hours flew by and before I knew it, Tara and I were letting loose and dancing to Just Dance by Lady Gaga. I had a few drinks in me, just enough to stop worrying about everything. Tara on the other hand, is gonna have a hangover from hell tomorrow. 
“I have to pee!” I yell to Tara as the song fades out, she nods and gives me two thumbs up before I begin to head towards the bathroom just outside the ballroom the party was in. 
Just as I’m about to enter I hear snickering behind me, making me turn around. I come face to face with none other than Chris. His eyes were burning into me, as he slowly approached, a stupid smirk on his face. 
“What are you laughing about?” I ask him, letting out a deep sigh.
He shakes his head, “You look ridiculous.” He states, like it’s a known fact. I glance down at my outfit, a simple black tube top and cargo camo pants. My black and white Nike’s were clean and uncreased, so what the hell was he talking about? 
I look back up to him as his 5’8 frame slightly towers over my own, “What did I do to make you hate me so much?” I calmly asked him, as surprise flooded his features. Apparently he wasn’t expecting me to call him out in person. 
He stood there for a second, staying silent as he didn't know what to say, “Oh so you just hate me for no reason? Nice.” I scoff, before turning around to enter the bathroom. I was stopped by a gentle grip on my arm, making me look over my shoulder at Chris. 
“Look, I don’t really know why I act like this, okay?” He sighs, dropping his hand as I turn to face him again, “Ever since I met you at that party, I just can’t get you off my mind.” He explains, taking a step closer to me. Now I can smell his cologne and I hate to admit that it’s doing something to me. 
“Don’t make fun of me.” He continues, making my eyebrow raise in curiosity, “When we locked eyes that night it felt different to me. It felt like more than just two people meeting for the first time.” He says quietly, looking me in my eyes so I knew he wasn’t lying, “It scared the shit out of me.” 
I start to smile slightly, making him roll his eyes, “Are you telling me you fell in love with me at first sight?” I tease him, making him throw his head back and groan. “Just stop being rude Chris, we could’ve been something this whole time you know?” I tell him, watching as his eyes meet my lips before looking away quickly. 
“Wanna make up for lost time?” He suggests, making me glance around the hallway we were in. There were a few people scattered around, but none of them were paying attention to us. I look up at him to see that sexy smirk on his lips, “Fuck it.” I shrug, before I drag him into the bathroom with me. I lock the door before I’m pushed up against it, Chris pressing kisses to my cheeks before going down my neck. 
I let out a soft moan, lifting my hands to slide them into Chris’ hair and tugging slightly as he found my sweet spot, “No marks please.” I plead him, feeling his tongue lather the area before he moves lower. His kisses get harsher the lower he gets, looking up at me slightly before he returns to his full height and slams his lips on mine. 
I moan into the kiss, the tension between us coming to a peak, “Jump.” He mumbles into my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist. I use his shoulders for stability as I jump and wrap my legs around his waist. He pulls back so he can walk me to the sink, and I waste no time trailing kisses down his neck. Chris sets me down on the counter and spreads my legs so he can stand in between them. 
“Gonna make you feel so good baby.” He rasps, tilting his head back as I continue my assault on his neck. I make my way back up to his lips, taking him in for a split second before we kiss again. His hair is disheveled, his lips swollen from our kissing, and his eyes. They’re full of lust and determination, and I can’t help but try to clench my thighs. 
Chris smirks at me, playing with my top, “Can I take this off pretty girl?” He asks, to which I rapidly nod. Chris’ fingers slip underneath the fabric of my shirt briefly, before he snaps the band against my chest making me gasp. He wastes no time as he quickly takes it off, setting it somewhere behind me. His hands instantly cup my breasts, his lips slotted back onto mine. 
His large palms squeeze my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples making me let out a whine. I tug at his shirt and he pulls away to take it off, “Fucking incredible.” He mutters, letting his eyes fall onto my chest as I pant. He leans down, taking my nipple into his mouth, and my hand flies to the back of his head, arching my chest into his chest. 
“Fuck Chris.”  I moan, my hips bucking as that’s where I really want him. He switches sides, letting his hand trail down my body to pop open my pants, pulling away to look at me. “I’m about to ruin you, sweetheart.” He lowly speaks, making me bite my lip as I begin to help him remove my pants. I kicked off my shoes and Chris played with the band of my underwear. 
“Please Chris.” I beg him, already tired of his teasing. 
“Good girls say what they want.” He replies, using one hand to tease me through my damp underwear, the other dancing across my inner thighs. 
I let out a huff, “Please touch me.” I plead, reaching down to move his hand exactly where I want him, “Make me feel good.” 
Chris smirks at me, “Good girl.” I gasp as his hand suddenly slips lower, finally giving my body what it’s been craving for. His fingers collect my wetness, spreading it down to my opening, making my back arch with need. I open my mouth to beg him again but I’m cut off by him slipping a finger inside, his thumb connecting with my pulsating clit. 
“Chris!” I gasp, his fingers work mercilessly, the coil in my stomach already building. I let out whines and moans, already feeling fuzzy as he continues to work my body closer to my climax. 
“Look at me, baby.” Chris demands, making my eyes flutter open, “I want you to look at me as I make you cum.” He continues, working another finger inside my core. My jaw drops in a silent moan as his eyes bore into mine. I feel myself begin to clench around his fingers as he hits my sweet spot over and over. 
“There it is.” He smirks down at me, and half of me wants to tell him to stop, that the pleasure is too much. The other half of me wants to be greedy, and welcome the waves of ecstasy as they flow through my body. 
“Feels so good.” I whine out, watching the way Chris glances down at his fingers as they disappear inside of me, “So close.” I moan, feeling the coil twisting tighter and tighter.  
“Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He asks me, and that's all it takes. The coil snaps and I fight to keep my eyes open as I release all over his fingers. Chris lets out a groan, mumbling praises left and right as I come down from my high. 
I’m still in a daze when he helps me off the counter and spins me around to face the mirror. He lifts his hand to my neck, tugging my body to be flush with his. I gasp as I feel his hard dick pressing against my ass, I didn’t even notice he took off his pants. 
“Gonna watch me while I fuck you, baby?” He asks, meeting my eyes in the mirror. I nod rapidly, “You look away once and I stop, got it?” Chris speaks, as he helps me bend forward and kicks my legs apart further for him. 
“Yes sir.” I reply, a small smirk on my lips as I back my ass further into him, making Chris grin. “Keep that up and you won’t make it to the event tomorrow.” 
He takes hold of his dick, running his head through my folds, bumping my clit making me whine. He pumps himself a few times before he’s teasing my entrance. I pout up at his reflection, arching my back even more to show how impatient I was. He takes that as a sign to slowly thrust into me, making my jaw drop at the burn from the stretch. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groans, one hand resting on my hip, the other coming to hold onto my shoulder. He waits a moment before he begins thrusting, my body shaking each time he fills me up. “Feels so good.” Chris moans out, his hand leaving my hip to deliver a harsh smack to my ass, rubbing the now red area soothingly afterwards. 
At this point, I can’t even form words and of course Chris took notice, “Got my baby all fucked out already.” He states, smacking my ass again. “Can’t wait to wreck this pussy.” He grunts out, his thrusts getting quicker and harder. 
My mouth hangs open in a silent moan, my eyes never leaving his. “Such a good girl, keeping your eyes on mine.” I feel the coil in my stomach reappear, and I can’t help but try to squirm away from Chris as the pleasure builds, “Don’t you fucking run away from me.” Chris spits, lowering both arms to grip my waist as he plows into me.
“T-Too much!” I finally whine out, clenching on him as his head nudges that sweet spot within my core. 
Chris shakes his head, “You can take it baby.” He lets out a rather loud moan before his thrusts start to get sloppy, “Be a good girl and take it.” He grunts out, sliding a hand to my front, quickly finding my clit and rubbing fast circles. 
My legs begin to shake, “I’m-” I’m cut off by a rather loud moan as Chris angles his hips upwards, bringing me even more pleasure. “Me too baby, fuck.” Chris moans, lowering his Chin to his chest as he watches himself slide in and out of me. 
“Cum with me.” He demands, my legs begin to shake as he meets my eyes as the coil within me finally snaps. I can feel myself pushing and pulling him in as I cum, and the feeling of his shooting out makes it all the more pleasurable. Chris finally halts his movements, staying buried inside. 
He gently pulls out, both of us wincing. He quickly cleans himself up and slides his pants back on before he turns to me. He rubs my cheek lovingly before he helps me clean up and get redressed. I quickly check my makeup and fix it, before turning to face him. 
“You’re staying with me tonight.” He states, holding out his hand for me to take. I take it with a smile on my face. 
“I planned on it.”
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coffe-and-tea-time · 2 days
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KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!
HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS
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Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol
➤ first part
➤ here to see the other option
↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎
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TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions
Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...
Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?
A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh? 
“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”
Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.
“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”
It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?
“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”
Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?
Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.
“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”
Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…
wait a second…
Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?
“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”
Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.
“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”
You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.
“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”
Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.
So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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thatacotargirl · 3 days
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Hello! I read your cassian x reader period fic and absolutely loved it! I had a request if you don't mind...
one with cassian where maybe reader has been a part of the inner circle for a while and because of this her and cassian have been really really close friends for centuries…but one day on the streets reader locks eye with a male who is her mate…but the male is not cassian just some random person…and she is ecstatic that she has finally found her mate and someone she will be able to spend the rest of her life with because even though she has had a major crush on cassian…she knows he will never return those feelings because she finds herself incomparable and insignificant compared to cassian…however later on the male wants to reject the bond because he doesn't find the reader attractive and mocks her and all…she goes crying back home and cassian finds out and comforts her…maybe months later after the bond with the other male was broken…she finds that the mother has given her a new mating bond…that connects her to the one she has always loved…Cassian❤️
Hi!! Thank you so much for your support! And I LOVE your idea - I hope you like what I’ve done with it!
Inbox is always open for requests ❤️
A Cassian x Reader Imagine
The day that Rhysand saved you from the Autumn Court ranks up there with some of the best days of your life. Also up there is the day that he introduced you as a member of his Inner Circle, and your eyes first lay on Cassian.
You didn’t think there was a single person in all of Prythian who would deny Cassian’s beauty. He was in an entirely different league to any male or female you had met before. What started as lust developed into a crush and, over the centuries, turned into feelings you couldn’t quite describe. Although really, they could be summed up quite easily. You had fallen in love with Cassian.
You were sure Cassian did not return those feelings, but you truthfully didn’t mind. You didn’t want anything to risk destroying the friendship that you had with him. Cassian was the first there to pick you back up when you fell, to dry your tears and make you laugh again, to support you and encourage you to be the best version of yourself. It wasn’t a surprise that you ended up falling in love with him. He cared for you in a way no one ever had before, and you were so grateful to have him in your life, even if you knew it would never be how you truly wanted him.
That was why, when you were walking the streets of Velaris after dropping off a letter for Rhysand, you were ecstatic to lock eyes with a blonde male and feel the snap in your chest as the bond clicked into place. After a brief exchange, you agreed to meet for dinner that night, and you rushed back to the River House to get ready.
-
“I found my mate!”, you screeched, running through the River House door. Feyre caught your hands and steadied you.
“You what?!”, she replied, eyes wide.
“I found my mate!!!”, you repeat, practically bouncing in her arms with excitement. Feyre grinned and pulled you into a hug as several bodies appeared behind the pair of you.
“Your mate?”.
You looked over Feyre’s shoulder and straight at Cassian. His face was contorted slightly, almost like he was in pain. You quickly raked up and down his body looking for injuries, but you couldn’t see anything obvious.
“That is wonderful news!”, Rhys smiled, reaching over to pull you into a hug. “I knew the Night Court was the right place for you”. He winked as he let you go, and your friends took it in turns to share their congratulations and shower you with hugs and affection. Cassian approached, a forced smile on his face as he pulled you in for a bear hug.
“I’m so happy for you”, he said. He sounded genuine, but there was something empty about it. You knew that he had hoped a few females over the years had turned into his mate, including one of Feyre’s sisters, but the Mother hadn’t yet blessed him. It must be hard for him to see his friends’ mating bonds snap and not his own.
“Thank you”, you smiled, breathless from all the love of your family. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for a date with my mate”. You beamed as you bounced up the stairs, closely followed by Feyre and Mor who insisted on helping you get ready.
-
Your family waved you off as you left for your date. You chuckled to yourself. They were almost more excited for you than you were for yourself!
As you approached the restaurant, you saw your mate standing by the door. The closer you got, however, the more you felt a deep void in your chest. You tugged the bond as you approached him, a gasp leaving your lips as you realise your figurative hands come up short, the bond no where to be found. Your raise your head to meet his, and his eyes hold an evil gleam.
“You must be stupider than you look if you thought I was going to accept a bond with you”.
You freeze. This wasn’t the same male you spoke with this morning, was it? Seeing your confusion, he takes a step towards you, looming over you in a way so intimidating it made you whimper.
“Look at you. I would be the most foolish man alive to saddle myself with you for all eternity”.
Whilst you did still stick out at the Night Court, quite clearly heralding from different lands, you knew you weren’t unattractive. At least, you didn’t think you were?
You couldn’t bear his smirk any longer. You tried to pull the bond one more time and he noticed.
“It’s gone. Maybe now the Mother will realise the error of her ways and give me a second chance”.
Your heart broke.
You turned on your heels and ran for the River House.
-
Your family were not expecting you back from your date so soon, so when they heard you come thundering through the front door they all stood abruptly from their chairs. You looked in at them, faces full of concern and sorrow, and couldn't bear the pity. You fled up the stairs to the guest room and slammed the door behind you.
It was only a few minutes later that you heard someone knock at the door and Cassian's scent flooded in. He didn't wait for your reply. He walked over to the bed, sat, and pulled you onto his lap. You leaned into his chest and sobbed.
"What happened?".
"He broke the bond. He said only a foolish man would want to be saddled with me".
Cassian's heart hurt as he held you cried harder, soaking his shirt with your tears. He held you closer, trembling with anger that some male you met on the street could reduce you to tears like this, could take advantage of your kind heart, could throw away the one thing that he had prayed to the Mother every night could be his - your heart. He had wished for centuries for you, for your love, to be yours. This male had it in the palm of his hands and had thrown it away.
"What's wrong with me?", you asked quietly, avoiding his gaze.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are perfect", Cassian replied back softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"Then why didn't he want me?", your voice broke as you whispered the question.
Cassian had no answer. He only held you closer and let you cry in his arms.
8 months later
With the help of your family, you had slowly begun to heal. Your heart was mended piece by piece with each bit of love and care they showered you with. Cassian was by your side every spare moment he had, doing everything in his power to make you smile, laugh. It was music to his ears. You had also resumed your duties to the Night Court, after Rhys had insisted you take a prolonged vacation to focus on yourself and your healing.
It was at one of these Night Court meetings that your life changed forever.
You were characteristically late to the monthly Inner Circle meeting, having spent far too long in the library that morning. You ran into the room, out of breath, giving a sheepish and apologetic smile to Rhys. You went to take your seat beside Mor when you heard Cassian's sharp intake of breath. You looked up at him and felt it. The snap. It was so powerful you could have sworn the entire room heard it. Your eyes locked with Cassian's as you heard Feyre gasp, realising what had happened.
"Looks like the Mother gave you that second chance", Rhys smiled, pulling Feyre into his side as they watched the pair of you process what had just happened.
"My mate", Cassian whispered.
"My mate", you replied, breathless.
Within seconds, Cassian had cleared the table, swooped you into his arms, and walked out the room with you.
"I take it we need to reschedule, Cass?", Rhys called after the pair of you, amused.
Neither of you replied, simply gazing at each other as he carried you up the stairs.
"I prayed to the Mother for you every day for centuries", Cassian confessed, tears filling his eyes. Yours mirrored, as you reached up a hand to hold his cheek.
"I prayed for you too, Cassian".
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mistystepmoonbeam · 2 days
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Reborn Into BG3: Chapter 9
You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.
Chapter 9: You lose something, but maybe a certain devil can help you out?
Word count: 2K
A/N: Okay, but should we start to focus on one companion for romance??
Your body is warm as you drift between sleeping and waking.  It’s like you’re sitting by a fireplace, wrapped in a soft blanket while a winter storm rages outside.  Like sleeping in on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be for the day.  You could stay there forever, resisting the pull of the waking world with a grimace.
“You took quite the hit,” a deep voice says, “and for a bear no less.”
Right, you were bleeding, concussed.  You should really open your eyes to see what’s happening, but they only flutter shut again.  There’s a dim light overhead that disturbs your peaceful warmth, and when you turn away from it you feel the cold stone on your cheek.
Stone.  Blood.  Bear.  Your eyes open—slowly despite the shot of fear that courses through your body.  After a few blurry blinks you’re able to make out the vague shape of a person's head, then long brown hair that’s partly tied back and braided, and a smile.
“Welcome back,” Halsin says.  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to heal you—we had to get the goblins out of the way first.”
“We?” you repeat.
Another face comes into view, the horns on top of Tav’s head nearly poking out one of Halsin’s eyes.  The druid backs off to let your companions fuss over you. 
Dried blood has crusted on your forehead and cheek.  You wipe at it and it begins to flake away with ease; whatever healing magic Halsin used on you has sealed the wound and dried the blood.  
Tav moves behind you and slides his hands under your back, giving you a push upright.  Almost your full weight is on him until you’re sitting up, still trying to blink away little spots in your vision.
“What happened?” you ask.  “Did I win?”
You’re not even sure what you’re asking.
“Against a rock?” Astarion says.  “No.  Against the worm in your head…that’s another story.”
You take a deep inhale, surveying the faces around you.  There’s worry on almost all of them, but something else.  More than concern for your repeated blows to the head.  It isn’t until you follow Astarion’s gaze to something to your left that you understand.
You jump away, scurrying back just like when you’d found the boar in your tent.  There, lying lifelessly on the stone floor, is a mindflayer tadpole.  Your stomach lurches as Tav picks it up between two claws then tosses it behind him.
“The tadpoles leave the host when it dies,” Halsin says.  “Though what caused it to leave this time, I’m not sure.”
“How did it—what part of me—where did it leave from?”  You stand, head shaking.  “No, I don’t want to know.  I’ve never been so glad to be knocked unconscious.”
You waver on your feet, world spinning.  When you hold your hands out to balance yourself you’re lifted off your feet and into the arms of Tav.
“I can walk,” you say, though you don’t know if that’s true.  Besides, there is a lot of blood on Tav that can’t be all goblin—he didn’t have to carry you back to camp.
“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Tav replies.  “I’m sorry.”
“I volunteered.”  Your fact does little to lighten his mood, his lips still in a firm line.  “Besides, if I hadn’t failed my persuasion roll I probably would have been fine.”
Tav only furrows his brow at your words. 
“I’m sorry to leave like this but I must return to the grove,” Halsin announces.  He doesn’t even have to step towards you to take your hand in his; he never strayed far after healing you.  “Please, speak with me there when you can.”
You watch as Halsin places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, unable to do anything else as your face heats.  He adds, “And thank you for what you did.”
You stutter a quiet “No problem” just before he transforms into a rat and dashes off.
“Oof!”  Karlach places a hand over her heart dramatically.  “He’s a charming one, isn’t he?”
You don’t trust your voice to not come out as a squeak so you say nothing.  Your attention returns to the tadpole that disappeared into the shadows of the cell.  Should you really leave it there?  Was it really dead?
“Did it…did it really leave?” you ask.  Are they going to leave you behind now that you’re no longer sharing their affliction?  You wet your lips.
“We think that may be why Priestess Gut said the Absolute abandoned you,” Gale explains.  He’s standing by Astarion, your staff in hand.  He gives it a shake.  “Though she was none too impressed to see you with this.  But that’s something we can discuss when you haven’t been imprisoned by goblins, hit with large rocks, or—fed upon.”
You think you catch a dirty look from Gale to Astarion but it’s too dark and you’re too woozy to tell. 
You want to ask, “what now”, even as you stay held close to Tav.  But the words don’t come.  You know the answer after all this—they’ll definitely kick you out of the camp because so far you’ve done nothing but suck up all their healing supplies.  You have plenty of money to survive after all, and Halsin will probably let you stay in the grove for a while.  There’s a lump forming in your throat at the thought of going out on your own but what choice do you have?
Maybe Karlach can tell what you’re thinking, or maybe she’s just tired, too.  She says, “I think it’s about time we head back yeah?”
You swallow down the lump, nose starting to run as you hold back tears.  Pain is coming back to your body, Halsin’s healing wearing off.  It did its job of keeping you alive, and now it is your body that must do the rest of the work.  You can feel the bruises along your back, hips and sides where the goblins jabbed you, as well as the forming headache.  If the headache is from the rocks striking you or the tadpole you don’t know.  Either way, you wish that stupid thing had at least stayed in your head when it died.  
When Tav starts to walk you let him carry you without complaint, even resting your head against his shoulder, eyes closed.  Whatever happened to the goblins and their leaders remains unknown as he carries you out, but it’s silent in the camp.  
The group is silent, too.  Maybe they’re letting you rest while you can, you think, or maybe they’re trying to decide who gets to be the one to kick you to the curb.  You don’t think about it too long.  
When you feel fresh non-bloodstained air on your cheeks you open your eyes.  You’re across the bridge and heading towards the blighted village already.  Every step they take is a step closer to you being completely alone.
The scent of sulphur wafts towards you before you hear a strange sound, like a campfire being started.  Almost a poof, but not quite.  The group turns quickly to face the source: Raphael.   Tav puts you down as gently as possible, ready to draw his weapon when Raphael starts talking.  
“Now, now, I’m not here for a fight…”  His speech starts and finishes, and then with a snap of his fingers you’re all inside the House of Hope.  The scene progresses, Tav denying the devil every chance he gets until the end and they’re transported back to where you were.
Without you.
Raphael, now in his full cambion form is observing you, a hand to his chin.  
“You, uh, you missed one,” you tell him.
He quirks one eyebrow.  “Did I?”
Raphael moves towards you and with every step you have to tilt your head further back just to look him in the eye.  When he’s an arm's length away you step back until your thighs hit the table and he doesn’t stop until he’s nearly on top of you.  Your voice is shaky when you speak.  “Y-yep.  I don’t even have a tadpole so what good would a deal with me be?”
His smile never drops, never reveals what he’s thinking.  “You don’t, not anymore.  As fascinating as that is, I’m more interested in procuring something else you have.”
You point to yourself.  “Me?  What do I have?”
Raphael reaches for your face, and with nowhere to go you stay as still as possible.  Those claws feel bigger than Halsin’s in his bear form, but Raphael is gentle as he strokes a knuckle along your cheek.  
“You, my dear,” he says, almost wistfully, “have more than you know.  But you don’t know anything do you?  Just a name and a place; Baldur’s Gate.”
You gulp.  Even when he takes his hand away you feel the heat of his skin on your cheek.  He doesn’t step back, closing you in with his size and outstretched wings.  “I guess it’d be silly to ask how you know that.”
His smile grows, entertained by your question.  “I could help with that—your memories, your life here.”
The way he stresses the last word gives you a shock like when Priestess Gut had looked at you. 
“No, thank you.  Now, if you could just send me back—”
“What will you do when they leave you?”
The question halts your words, your very thoughts.  You peer up into Raphael’s red eyes.  He continues, “Without the tadpole binding you, you’ve no reason to stay.  Where will you go?  Gold can take you only so far.”
You don’t answer.  You don’t have an answer.  You ask, “You know who I am?”
“And then some,” he answers.  
You swallow your fear, again, and shake your head.  He’s a devil!  Evil!  Your identity isn’t worth your soul, which you’ve come to learn is real and eternal.  
“I’ll be here,” Raphael tells you, “I’m sure you know how to find me.”
In a plume of smoke you’re back on the dirt road that travels between the shrine and the village.  You stay stock still as if the predator is still in front of you, eyes on the ground.  You hear someone call your name, but it isn’t until Tav shakes your shoulders that you can react.  “What?”
“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal,” Karlach begs.  If she couldn’t burn your skin off you think it would be her shaking you out of your trance.  
“No,” you reply.  “No.  No!  Of course not.”
Each of the companions let out a relieved sigh. 
“What did he want with you?” Astarion asks.  “Not to be rude but without the tadpole…”
You shake your head, the ache inside growing.  Stop shaking your head at everything, you think.  “He didn’t say.”
“What did he offer?”  Gale steps up, brows pinched together as he carefully watches your expression.
“My memories,” you admit.  “But I don’t think my memories are worth my soul.”
Gale’s face relaxes at your answer.  
“Now there’s a devil at our door,” Astarion complains.  “What next?  Will we be attacked by a rabid kobold as icing on the cake?”
“All in good time,” Gale answers.  
“I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t burn your skin off,” Karlach says to you. 
You smile at her, but it’s weak.  You could really use that hug.  Raphael’s words had echoed your own thoughts—what happens when you’re left alone, left behind, by these people?  They must mistake your silence for fear, because they each give you a reassurance that as long as you don’t make a deal with a devil you’ll be fine.  But you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.
You muster up as much energy as possible and put it into stretching your lips into a smile.  “We should probably get back to the grove.  I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear the goblins aren’t a threat.”
This time you don’t let Tav pick you up, and start walking on your own two feet.  You’ll have to get used to it anyway, injured or not, when they move on to the Underdark. 
Taglist:
@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid
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Lost Fic #180
1. Good morrow dearest Mods Firstly thank you for all the good work that you all do for the fandom because this was really impressive when i first stumbled upon it and easy to sieve through. Really Wowwww I'm not much of a fanfic reader myself, but there was the monologue that stuck with me from a tiktok edit and I really want to find which fanfiction was it from (since i couldn't find the edit anymore :"") (Im regurgitating whatever i can remember so please bare with me, i hope it wouldnt be so painful.) It was from the POV of God but the narrator refers to God as "She". She talks about making Crowley and Aziraphale. Being the first to break Crowley's heart. And then she invents Creativity for Crowley because She owes him that at least. She gives Aziraphale a sword but then will give it away on his own will. She did not give Aziraphale a heart but he invented it himself. From what I remember there was no dialogue in this part of the piece. (But I wouldn't know for sure since I've never read it before...) I tried tagging From POV of God Good Omens in AO3, but I couldn't find it either If it happens to not have existed, that's alright, however are there some fanfictions that are similar to this? With the kind of emo yet touching written by God feel narration about the husbands with not much much dialogue, like as if She was just watching from above. The kind of outsider feel with the insider knowledge AHAHAHA I'm not sure how to describe it. Emotionally like bittersweet tea with a dash of honey. Thank you, and I wish you lovely days to come mods &lt;3 - @whiskedawaybythewind
2. I'm sorry, but I'm looking for a Fic it was a Muriel & Crowley, and there was this scene where Crowley finds out that Aziraphale regrets his decision because a Pen that he (Aziraphale) stole, and send with muriel so he can understand the message. I don't remember much more, :( - anon
3. Hi! I’m looking for a relatively new fic I read a while back. It featured Azi and Crowley living in the South Downs and Crowley is snatched while out grocery shopping by a gang of mafia guys, and they ransom him to Azi, who shows up and calmly scares the shit out of them by telling them he’s “The Bookseller.” I can’t find it to save my life and I want to reread it! - @doodlegirll
4. Hello dears! First off, thank you so much for all the work you do for the fandom. I was wondering if you could help me find a fic. Aziraphale is discorporated during WW1 and Crowley was sleeping and didn't know. During the church scene in 1941, when Crowley comes aziraphale has a flashback and is barely able to save them. They talk about it after. Thanks again! - @candysunset27
5. Hi!! I’ve been going through this account for a while and it’s been so so great finding tons of fics with all the tropes I love!! There’s this one fic I saw that I can’t remember and I was really hoping you could help me find it! From what I do remember in the fic, Aziraphale is suicidal, and keeps on discorporating himself. If it’s too much of an ask I totally understand- Take all the time you need !!! 💖💖💖💖💖 - anon
If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)
- Mod D
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apomaro-mellow · 2 days
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Hot for Teacher(s) 9
Part 8 / AO3 Link
Eddie felt like he blacked out. One moment he was on stage, playing his heart out, the next, Steve was leading him by the hand back to his car. Eddie had come to the venue with one of his bandmates, instruments in the back. When they got to Steve’s car, the keys were put in his hand.
“Your place”, Steve said, going around to the passenger side.
Eddie nodded hurriedly and in a rush of movements, they were off. He worried for a split second about the state of his apartment but those thoughts were pushed out when he felt Steve’s hand on his thigh. In the close space of the car, Eddie could smell him so deeply. He took a deep breath. 
“You looked great up there”, Steve said. “Have you been playing long?”
“Since I was a kid”, Eddie answered, wishing with all his might that they could get a red light just so he could look at Steve at least once. It had been only a few minutes but even that was too long. “My mom put a guitar in my hand and it was like…nothing was ever the same.”
“A natural.” Steve started to stroke his thigh. 
They came to an apartment complex and Eddie led the way up to the third floor. They got to his place and he paused as he unlocked the door. He turned to Steve with a sheepish expression.
“Gimme just one minute.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Eddie, I live with a child. A little untidiness isn’t going to turn me off.”
“I’d rather not welcome comparisons to a kid”, Eddie said.
“Fair enough. Go on, go and spruce it up before I see.”
Eddie thanked him and then went inside. Steve could hear movement from behind the door and after about a minute, Eddie opened it again. Steve took everything in and looked around. It had the makings of the usual bachelor pad, everything here was clearly Eddie’s. All meant for a single alpha. He smiled when he saw the teacher manuals, bookmarks sticking out from the lesson he’d left off at. 
Part of him wanted to explore some more, see all the little pieces of Eddie that could be found. But then there was a warmth against his back and a nose at his neck. Eddie’s arms snaked around his waist.
“I’d love to give you the grand tour. Starting with the bedroom~”
“I bet you say that to all the groupies.”
“You’re the only one hot enough to make it this far”, Eddie said, turning Steve in his arms. “And you didn’t even have to throw me your panties.”
“Hmm, sounds to me like you don’t even want them tossed to you”, Steve teased. “And after all the trouble I went through…”
“‘Trouble’?”, Eddie perked at that.
“Lead the way.”
Eddie released Steve, holding his hand only to take him to his bedroom. Steve closed the door behind them and then pushed Eddie onto the bed. Eddie leaned back on his elbows to watch Steve make a show of removing his jacket and shirt. Then he unbuttoned his pants and Eddie saw a sneak peek of what was to come. Steve licked his lips as he watched the alpha’s eyes darken and the scent of arousal began to fill the room.
Steve took off everything else, leaving only the black thong. The darkness of the fabric meant that Eddie couldn’t see the wet patch between his legs. But the way his nostrils flared, he could probably smell it. Steve walked closer and Eddie sat up, his hands moving reverently like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch.
Taking the initiative, Steve brought Eddie’s hands to his hips. Eddie licked his lips as his eyes traveled up and down the other man’s body, lingering on what must be a sopping wet cunt. He swallowed thickly. 
“When was the last time someone ate you out baby?”
“Well-”, Steve was saved from answering by Eddie diving face first, mouthing at his crotch like a man starved. His knees buckled and one hand went to Eddie’s shoulder while the other went to the back of his head, cradling it there. 
Eddie had been able to smell his wetness. Now he could actually feel and taste it. And it was so. Fucking. Good. He lifted one of Steve’s legs over his shoulders to spread him even more, still licking the fabric and sucking him through it. Eddie felt the leg by his ear tremble and he looked up. The purr that left his body, seeing Steve enraptured because of him, it must’ve traveled from his throat to his lips because Steve let out a purr of his own.
Steve felt Eddie pulled off and nearly let out a whine when he found himself on the bed. His legs must’ve been weaker than he’d thought if he was able to be moved like that. Eddie kissed him sweetly and then kissed down his neck, to his chest. 
“How the hell do you still have so many clothes?”, Steve breathed out.
“Natural talent”, Eddie winked. But he was beginning to overheat, so he paused to started undressing himself. He moved just a tad slower when he realized Steve’s hand was between his legs, stroking himself. 
“Careful Mr. Harrington. I might need to start charging you for the show.”
Steve snickered. “Please do not call me ‘Mr. Harrington’. Makes me think of my students.”
“Alright”, Eddie stripped off the last bit of clothing. “How’s about baby?” He kissed Steve’s ankle. “Or sweetheart?” He kissed his calf. “Angel face?” He gave one of Steve’s thighs a soft bite.
“Yes.”
Eddie peeled off the thong, duty completed and watched a string of slick try to stay attached. It was soaked from them both and Eddie was fighting the urge to stuff his face in it and he wondered how attached Steve was to this particular piece of underwear.
“I can tell you wanna lick it”, Steve said. “But wouldn’t you rather have the real thing?” He used his fingers to spread himself and a thick drop of pre cum dripped from Eddie’s cock. 
Permission given, Eddie dove in, his hips rutting against the bed as he ate Steve out. It was so soft and warm, he felt like he could get lost in it. All Steve saw was a mop of dark curls between his legs but he could feel everything Eddie was doing and it made him see stars. He felt something else prod him and when he looked down, Eddie was gazing up at him, asking with his eyes while his lips were wrapped around his clit.
Steve nodded and then he felt a finger push inside. Eddie treated him gentle, which Steve appreciated. He’d done his best to prep for the night, knowing what he wanted. But the fact that Eddie was taking his time, was enjoying the scenic route. Whenever his mouth left his pussy it was to lick his thighs, to kiss his hips, even to nuzzle his bush like every part of him was worth savoring.
During all this, he spread Steve open, bringing him to the brink before pulling back. Steve wanted to be frustrated but he liked going the long way. No rush, no fuss. He was more than happy to cum on Eddie’s cock. If it was like this now…he could only imagine during a heat or a rut.
Steve was lost in the thought as Eddie pulled his fingers out and reached for a condom. Steve sat up a little and held a hand out.
“Let me.”
When Eddie handed it to him, Steve took his time too. He got up on his knees and scented Eddie’s neck. That aroma was no longer just safety when he was on the brink of rejection sickness. It was a deep fondness, a strong attraction, and the utmost trust. Steve licked his throat and collarbone while looking down and placing the condom onto him. Even just the feather light touches were almost too much for him and he sucked in a breath.
“You don’t know what you do to me, sweetness”, he said as he laid kisses on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve used his fingertip to play with Eddie’s tip. “I think I have an idea.”
Eddie pushed him back down and lined himself up. He waited for Steve’s nod and then began to push inside. Steve waited until he was fully inside and then wrapped both his arms and legs around him.
“Feels so good, you’re so deep, fuck.”
Eddie growled in his ear as he started to move. Steve smelled so delicious. Eddie’s nose was pressed into his neck, fighting the urge to bite, to claim him, to make Steve his own. Steve wasn’t helping things by actually baring it to him, back arching as they pushed and pulled into each other. Everything about Steve was telling him to do it, to seal the deal.
Everything but Steve’s own words.
So Eddie stayed his teeth. But he was going to make sure that before the night was through that Steve would be carrying his scent home with him.
Steve was no nun, there had been partners after Billy, here and there, and of course, he had his own heats to deal with. But nothing could have prepared him for the way his orgasm crashed over him when Eddie thrusted just right. He scratched down his back (he’d apologize later) as his cunt squeezed down, trying to take his knot and milk it for everything.
He was still riding the wave when he felt that knot finally come inside and Eddie bit down on his shoulder as he came. For a few moments, all they did was breathe together. Eddie brushed the sweaty hairs away from Steve’s forehead and kissed it. Words lingered on his lips. Words that felt too heavy to say. So for now, he would let his body do the talking.
There was a split second where Eddie thought of everything the words might entail - changing his address, being a sudden parent to a six year old and all that it required, Steve learning about him and vice versa. It all sounded too good to be true. Definitely not the kind of pillow talk after having sex for the first time. So all he said was:
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pop it in like that”, he said, moving them to their sides.
“It’s fine. Not like I’m going anywhere soon. Hope you weren’t expecting to kick me outta bed.”
“Honey, it’s all yours. I’ll give you the deed and everything.”
“Actually, did you know that until the 50’s there was something called ‘common scent law’ that-no wait, nevermind”, Steve covered his face with his hand. 
Eddie knew that look. The ‘I had to learn something to teach my students and now I have an abundance of knowledge on this obscure subject’. He pushed a lock of Steve’s hair behind his ear and then kissed the hand that was hiding his face.
“We’re gonna be here a while, sweetness. Go ahead and tell me about now defunct laws.”
The way Steve melted, Eddie wished he could bottle it up and keep it forever.
Part 10 coming soon
Tags
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog
@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre
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SHEEP HI HI
i would like to order a curry special with jazzy juice please 🥺💖
Hello Ian! ☆
Ahhh thank you so much for your order! ♡ I hope you enjoy! ♡
This is part of an event I'm doing where people can request stories by placing orders! For more information, please refer to this post! ♡
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⋆ 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻: 𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓲𝓷 ⋆
One curry special and jazzy juice, coming right up! ♡
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⋆ You and Jamil had decided to go out for the day, enjoying the nice weather. You were with him back in the Scalding Sands, visiting his family in Silk City. Kalim had decided to come too, wanting to see how his parents and siblings were doing. Najma was waiting for you when you arrived, greeting everyone and pulling you in for a hug. It was nice being able to see her again, unable to hold your laughter as she bickered with her brother. Since it had been a while since you were last here, Jamil thought it would be nice to walk around the Camel Bazaar and Zahab Market with you, ignoring Najma's call for him to have fun on his date.
⋆ At the Camel Bazaar you looked at all the produce, the spices, the seafood. As you looked around, you stopped at one of the food stalls, getting some street food to enjoy as you continued on your way. At the Zahab Market, you mainly looked around at all the high end products, Jamil making sure the pickpockets avoided you. When you made it to the area dedicated to street performers, you paused, watching the scene before you.
⋆ There were a number of musicians performing, coming together to create a band. The music was full of life, causing people passing by to stop and dance, enjoying the moment. Your eyes lit up as you watched them, their enthusiasm contagious as you longed to join them. Jamil seemed to sense what you were thinking, nudging you with his shoulder and gesturing towards the couples dancing with a smirk before leading you along.
⋆ You smiled as you moved to the beat, lost in your own world. Even as it started to lightly drizzle, you continued to dance as if unaware. The rain started to come down heavier, Jamil pulling you in close as you laughed together. His hair was starting to stick to his face due to the rain, droplets of water rolling down his skin. You were sure you looked the same, getting to a point where you both had to stop and seek shelter, due to how heavy it was pouring. As you raced off together to find shelter under one of the stalls, you were oblivious to the red eyes watching you both, a smile on his face as he held his magical pen.
⋆ You both had smiles on your faces as you found safety from the rain, doing your best to dry off. You turned to Jamil, ready to say something before you froze, his face inches from yours. He had wanted to tell you something as well, doing his best to remember what he wanted to say. It was hard though, his eyes following a drop of water that rolled down your cheek, close to where your lips were. He felt tempted as his eyes kept coming back to that spot, holding back the urge to kiss you. He should have known you could read him just as well as he could read you, closing his eyes as you leaned forward, giving him the kiss he longed for ♡
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I hope you enjoyed your meal, and thank you for visiting the Cathie Cafe! ♡
𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡
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redocity · 21 hours
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Hey, if you’re looking for more buck requests I’d love something where he’s dating the reader and it’s going well but before they get chance to meet the team they get in an accident or their building catches fire or something and buck ends up rescuing her and hen and Eddie work on her etc and then after when they’re okay she’s just like when I said I wanted to meet the team this is not what I meant. Thank you so much if you decide to write this 💕
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WORKOUT — E.BUCKLEY
going to the gym when LA was due for a flash flood was not the best idea on your part, but at least you got to meet the people that buck called family
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WARNINGS: established relationship, flooding, corpse mention, minor character injury
evan buckley x gn!reader || fluff || 4.0k || requests open!!
a/n: is this the best thing i’ve ever written? no. but i hope it suffices nonetheless 🫶
₊ ⊹ masterlist!!
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Who knew joining a new boxing gym of all things would land you a boyfriend.
A tall, blond, handsome boyfriend who could probably bench press you like it was his warm up.
He could probably bench press your dad like it was a warm up.
You like to think it’s an act of divine intervention, an apology from the gods for making you move across the country by yourself with nothing but yourself to make things work.
The least you deserved was the absolute perfection that was Evan Buckley to make it a little less taxing.
Granted, the way you met was less than perfect, you managing to put your gloves on backwards, get them stuck on your hands and then have to ask for help getting them off whilst internally wanting to jump off a cliff from the embarrassment.
He was nice enough though, making lighthearted jokes about the situation as he helped you take off, and then put back on your gloves in the correct way.
To be honest you’re not sure you can remember most of that first conversation you had, definitely too focused on the muscles in his arms as the overhead lighting emphasised the definition of his biceps and shadowed the curves in his collarbone as they peeked out from underneath the tank top he was wearing.
That aspect of your dynamic never changed, and even as he started to approach you first so that you could pair up to spar with each other you still found yourself taking the time to admire his physique whenever the moment arose.
You found out within a few weeks that it was because he was a firefighter, and if you weren’t attracted to him before you definitely were when you had the fuel to imagine him being able to pick you up with one arm and sling you over his shoulder.
Apparently the feeling was mutual.
You learned a lot about Buck during your weekly gym visits. He was from Pennsylvania and travelled across the US before landing in LA, he had an older sister who used to frequent the gym with him, he worked in fire station number 118, and his team was like a surrogate family to him.
You learned a lot about them too.
You’d heard of the medical adventures of Hen and her scientist wife Karen.
He told you about how Chimney—a nickname he refused to elaborate on because it was ‘a scared secret’—had fallen in love with his sister Maddie and how happy he was for them.
He told you about how Eddie used to serve in the army and had an adorable kid named Christopher that Buck often spent his weekends with.
And he delighted in telling you all about Bobby. How he was a secondary father, how he’d been through the roughest of the rough and pulled himself back up and made Buck strive to have the same resilience, how he’d finally gotten his happy ending by falling in love with and getting married to a cop named Athena and how Buck was so happy that he was happy.
It was really endearing honestly, and it was one of the factors that contributed to how hard you fell for him.
He wasn’t just some ‘strong macho firefighter’, he was a human being, someone who loved with all his heart and put his everything into his job and doing right by the people that he loved and cared about.
He often made comments about bringing you to meet the team, mentioning the occasional barbecue that Bobby and Athena would host at their house and how the team would often bring their families and loved ones along.
It was the first time Buck ever called you his partner. In the middle of a boxing ring whilst you were punching at his hands and he was raving on about Bobby’s cooking.
And it was enough for you to miss the padding covering his palms and almost punch him right in the face.
“Woah-” You can thank his instincts for being the only reason he didn’t end up with a bruised nose, swerving his head at the last second and catching you as you stumbled forward into him.
“I am so sorry-” You remove yourself from his grasp hastily, holding the back of your gloved hand over your mouth to cover the astonishment of your own embarrassment from his view.
“It’s good, are you?” Buck dismisses your apology with a shake of his head an a soft smile that makes you want to squeeze him until he explodes because my god he is so adorable how did you land this man?
“Yeah- yeah I’m good, sorry-” You shake your wrists as a way of dispelling the nervous tension that’s racing through your muscles to settle in your joints.
“You’re sure?” He raises an eyebrow at you, expression a mix of suspicion and concern. “You know, you don’t have to come to anything if you’re not comfortable, I don’t want to rush into something if you’re not ready,”
He lowers his hands to his sides, undoing the velcro to slip the pads off his palms as a show that he wants to engage in the conversation without any distraction. “I have a habit of taking relationships too fast, and I don’t want to do that with you,”
“No that’s not— You’re not doing that, I’d love to meet the rest of your team,” You shake your head adamantly at Buck’s attempt at giving you an out, firmly planting your decision as wanting to take the proverbial ‘next step’ in your relationship in meeting the people he calls family. “I was just caught off guard is all, you’ve uh… you’ve never called me your partner before,”
“Oh— I uh—” Your acknowledgement of what he’d said seems to force him to acknowledge it himself, like it was a subconscious slip of the tongue rather than an informed decision. “Is that okay?”
You take a moment to think, eyes round and cheeks flushed as you nod your head. “Yeah,”
“Yeah?” He takes a step towards you, concern washing out of his expression to be replaced with contentment, confidence rising in his irises as he tilts his head to the side.
“Mhm,” You stifle a small embarrassed giggle as he invades your personal space, mirroring his head tilt with your own as your fluster extends from your cheeks to coat your neck in a dark shade of red.
“Good,” He rests his right hand against your shoulder, drawing small lines from the side of your neck down over the curve of your arm with his fingers. “I’ll have to call you that more often then,” He leans forward with every word until his lips are brushing yours as he speaks, emphasising the end of his sentence by pressing a kiss to your lips that you happily reciprocate.
“I’d like that,” Your face is embarrassingly red as you pull away, a lovesick expression on your face as you don’t even try to hide the way your composure falls apart.
You have half the mind to never go to the gym ever again.
How were you supposed to know that there were flash floods scheduled to hit LA this morning if they didn’t put it on the news until you were already inside the gym? At least you weren’t the only one suffering in your makeshift cage whilst rising water blocked you from leaving.
There was probably about a dozen of you actually, all up bright and early to get in a workout before the day started, and instead locked inside of the gym because the idiotic reporters didn’t warn you in advance that LA was due heavy rain and flash flooding.
Okay, technically it wasn’t their fault, the whole point of weather is that you only really know what’s happening as it happens, but surely they had the technology to be able to anticipate when something this extreme was going to occur.
Someone had already called 911, but you wouldn’t bank on them arriving anytime soon. Buck told you how rough days like this were for emergency responders, and considering that none of you were in an immediate emergency, you wouldn’t be surprised if your situation was put on the back burner until they had a team free.
That meant you basically just had to hunker down for a few hours and wait it out.
It shouldn’t have been to hard to past the time, you could technically just extend your workout for a while, but its barely an hour before the power goes out and half of the gym is rendered completely useless.
The group of you end up sitting on the floor in a circle and just talking to pass the time, although making small talk with people you don’t know can only last so long before you run out of things to talk about.
It was more boring than anything, although as the water began to seep through the seal of the glass doors, you knew that boredom wouldn’t last for very long.
“This is dispatch, we’ve got a gym flooding at 1123 Vine St #14, there’s 13 people trapped inside,” Josh’s voice crackles through the radio as the 118 lugs themselves back into the truck, soaked from the knees downwards.
“Copy that, 118 is en route,” Bobby presses the radio on his chest, tapping the side of the truck with his hand before climbing into the Captain’s seat.
“Copy 118,” The radio crackles then goes dead, and the truck pulls away from the gas station they were parked at with the ambulance hot on it’s tail.
“Vine St? Me and my girlfriend go to a gym Vine St, it’s great,” Buck talks before he’s even got the headset on, half of his sentence being drowned out as a result.
“Well it can’t be that great if it doesn’t have proper seal on the doors can it?” Eddie’s voice is entirely sarcastic, and Buck hits his arm with the back of his hand in retaliation.
“Hey we don’t know if this is my gym or not, so don’t disrespect the integrity of Wildcard boxing gym until we’re sure that’s where we’re going,” Buck scoffs dramatically, and it earns a laugh from the rest of the team.
“Oh no, how dare you besmirch Buck’s sacred place? That’s his second home you’re talking about,” Hen plays into the joke, and Buck responds emphatically by tapping his right hand against his left bicep.
“Exactly,”
“What was that about the ‘integrity’ of your gym Buck?” Eddie blinks up at the sparked out neon sign, jaws resting against his shoulder has he holds them in his right hand.
There was really no mistaking it as someplace else, and for a moment Buck’s focus turns to worry. It was your day off today, what if you’d gone to the gym to take up your time? What if you’d gotten injured in the process? Or god forbid something worse?
“Buck?” His silence is enough for Eddie to look over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “You good?”
“Yeah— Yeah I’m fine,” Buck shakes his head like he’s trying to physically shake the anxiety from his mind. “Let’s go,”
There’s a short shared glance between Eddie and Hen at Buck’s reply, but it ends with nothing more than a shrug as they forced the automatic doors open to enter the gym, adding another rush of water into the building in the process, one that they definitely could’ve done without considering it was almost at waist level already.
“LAFD!” Bobby wades through the water ahead of the group in the start of the search, calling out periodically in the hopes of a response from anyone from the group of people trapped somewhere inside.
Logic would dictate that they probably would’ve moved to the upper floor, but panic often overrides rationality in these sorts of circumstances, so the team couldn’t ever be too safe in searching the bottom floor.
“Alright, Buck, Chim, I want you to follow me in searching the rest of this floor, Eddie and Hen, go upstairs and find anyone you can,”
There’s an echo of “Copy that!”’s as the team split up to search the building, and as Buck makes his way through the familiar gym layout he can only hope that your months of being together with him has taught you how to best keep yourself safe in an emergency situation like this.
The sight of one of the gym regulars floating face down in the water does not reassure him of that fact.
He swears he almost gags at the sight, a mix of shock and disgust at the smell coming from the man as his corpse floats aimlessly, following the ripples in the water as Buck moves. Then he notices his hands. The back of his right hand specifically.
“Cap—” Buck’s voice is harsh and grainy through the radio, not at all helped by the fact the flood had probably disrupted some of the nearby cell towers making the transmission less clear than it already was. “I found— he had—” Buck’s radio periodically turns to static as he tries to relay his message, but it’s key message thankfully gets through undisrupted. “live electricity—”
“LAFD!” Eddie pushes the door open to the upper gym floor with Hen right on his tail, the two scanning the room for anyone immediately visible. “Is anyone there?”
”Here! We’re over here!” Your voice calls from around one of the corners, and you rush out towards the two firefighters with panic written all over your face, completely soaked from head to toe. “Are either of you a paramedic? A stack of weights fell whilst we were trying to create a barrier in case the water rose again and—” You talk whilst leading the two over the the group, and you don’t need to finish your sentence by the time you reach them.
One of the guys was sat against the wall, his left leg resting elevated on a collection of sodden towels and jackets, a nasty purple bruise spreading across the expanse of his foot and up his ankle and a slightly misshapen form to it as a whole.
It was pretty bad.
There’s a short shared glance between Eddie and Hen as they silently agree on the extent of his injury, and Hen kneels down towards him. “Alright, what’s your name sir?” She presses her fingers gingerly to the affected area and earns an immediate groan from the man.
“Antony—” He hisses his name through his teeth from the pain, and several of you collectively wince at the sight.
“Alright Antony, my name’s Hen, and this is Eddie, we’re gonna get you out of here and to a hosptial okay?” Hen gestures to Eddie behind her, and you take a second to furrow your eyebrows at the familiarity of the names. Then you catch the number of their uniform helmets. 118.
That meant Buck was here somewhere. He had to be.
“Please—” He lets out another pained groan as Hen instructs Eddie over to Antony’s other side to get him off the floor.
“How many of you are up here? Is anyone else injured?” Hen’s eyes scan the group for a quick head count, but someone beats her to it.
“There’s twelve of us,” Her voice is meek and almost unstable as she speaks, “There was thirteen but James… he…” She trails off like she knows she won’t be able to finish the sentence, and the intonation is enough for Hen to know what she’s implying.
“Alright…” Hen sighs softly as the groups demeanour dims slightly at the mention of James, and how everyone seems to huddle just that little bit closer together as if to comfort each other in their shared grief. “Can all of you swim?”
“We’ll be fine,” You answer her question with a small nod.
“Okay,” Hen returns your nod with her own before turning her gaze away from you and the group. “Eddie,”
“Got it,” He doesn’t even have to be asked before he’s tugging Antony’s weight over his shoulder to carry him, readying for the journey back down the stairs and hopefully safely out of the building.
The universe had other plans.
“Cap—” You can recognise Buck’s voice immediately, even with all of the radio distortion. “I found— he had— live electricity—”
It’s like a flip switches in Hen and Eddie’s brains at the new information.
“Electricity? That’s bad isn’t it? That’s gotta be bad are we gonna—”
“Nothing is going to happen to anyone.” Hen interrupts the girl’s anxious rambling with a raise of her hand. “Does this building have a rooftop?”
“Yeah uh, it’s— there’s a ladder over here,” One of the male members of the group, one of the employees, leads Hen towards the rooftop fire escape, pulling on the ladder until it collides with the floor. It’s locked though, only the owner has a key,”
“You locked the fire escape?” Eddie sounds more than a little exasperated at the news.
“I don’t know man I just work here—”
“Okay.” Hen interrupts once more, speaking into her radio. “Cap, we’ve got a rooftop exit, you need to get up here.”
“Copy— up now—” The radio continues to glitch on it’s transmission, but it sounds as though the message was properly received.
Getting the hatch open was not as easy, although with more than a little bit of teamwork and a twenty-five pound weight the group managed to force it from it’s hinges and climb everyone up onto the roof and out of any direct danger for the time being.
It was a momentary breath of relief, and the group seemed to agree as everyone practically collapsed in a heap now that the rush of adrenaline was wearing off. Although Eddie and Hen didn’t waste a minute as they set up Antony comfortably against one of the walls and began examining the rest of the group.
“Can you follow this light for me?” Hen holds up a penlight in front of your face, eyes following yours to judge your reactions and your pupillary response.
“I’m really okay, you should spend your time working on the people who really need you,” You follow her instructions even whilst trying to dissuade her gently, and she gives you a sharp shake of her head.
“Everyone’s important sweetheart, I’m just making sure you haven’t got any hidden injuries at even you don’t know about,” She clicks off her pen light once she’s satisfied, and then gives you a small pat on your shoulder before looking past you with an expression of relief on her face.
You follow her gaze yourself to be met with three other firefighters from the 118, presumably those from the first floor, and you don’t so much as have time to even register their faces in your mind before you’re being picked up into one of their arms and held in an almost bone-crushing hug.
“Thank god you’re okay—” You wouldn’t have even had to have heard his voice to know your proxy kidnapper was Buck, but hearing him is more than relieving for the small anxious part of your brain that was scared to death over his safety.
“I’m fine I’m fine—” Your words are echoed by a small laugh as your feet touch the floor again, and the two of you carefully peel yourselves from each other in your joined dampened state. “Are you okay?”
The two of you are caught up in your emotions enough that you essentially completely ignore the presence of the rest of Buck’s coworkers, oblivious to the looks they were giving you—and each other— in the process.
“I’m fine,” Buck nods as he pulls off his helmet, and you finally get a proper look at his face, dirty and soaked and so unbelievably kissable that you really can’t help yourself.
It’s what calls your attention back to the fact that there are indeed other people present, spurred by a short whistle from Chimney that leaves the two of you pulling away with flustered expressions.
“Uh—” Buck clears his throat into his elbow, using his free arm to pull you carefully against his side. “Guys, this is—”
“An absolute angel? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you properly,” Hen interrupts Buck’s introduction of you to reach out to you herself, her tone full of enthusiasm. “Buck does not stop taking about you,”
“Seriously, it’s 24/7,” Chimney adds on to Hen’s declaration with a determined gesture of his hand, and you don’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed by the attention.
You’d been looking forward to meeting the team that Buck called family, truly, but you were not expecting to meet them like this.
You were absolutely drenched in flood water, probably covered in dirt, and most definitely looked like you’d been dragged through somebodies hedge.
Buck looks more proud than anything, and gives your side a small squeeze as he introduces you to everyone. “Hen and Chim,” The pair give you enthusiastic smiles, “That’s Eddie over there,” Eddie sticks his hand up in a makeshift wave as he focuses on properly wrapping Antony’s ankle with what’s available. “And this is Bobby,”
“It’s really a pleasure,” Bobby holds his right hand out to you, and you shake it politely, lips pressed into an almost nervous smile.
“It’s great to meet you all, Buck has told me a lot about all of you,” You let out a small, almost pathetic laugh at the end of your sentence. “I’m sorry we’re meeting like this,”
Hen waves you off with her hand and a laugh of her own. “Trust me, weirder things have happened,”
“Oh 100%,” Chimney nods in conjunction with Hen’s statement. “Welcome to the family,”
You give another small laugh and a “thank you,” as you settle yourself against Buck’s side, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head a with a content smile.
This might not have been the way he wanted you to meet the team, but it was perfectly unusual in its own way. And it was silently agreed that you were a perfect fit.
“So, uh, how are we getting down from here?” You turn your head over your shoulder to look over the edge of the roof, and the still high floods that covered most of the fire engine parked on the road.
“Uh…”
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scorpioriesling · 2 days
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Random Tropes HC (pt. 2)
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Pairing(s): Lucien / Eris x reader
Warnings: slight sexual suggestions
Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.
SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok where you can rank book tropes, and this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of these posts -- enjoy! Part 1
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Lucien - "Only One Bed"
You were definitely crushing on Lucien -- who wouldn't?
You were close with him and Tamlin, working at the Spring Manor until you became more than an employee, but a friend.
Well, a friend to Lucien anyway.
Tamlin took note of how well you were able to spy, and turned you into his own personal Spymaster.
You didn't mind too much -- after a while, Tamlin warmed up to you. He also appreciated how you made Feyre feel more comfortable when she first arrived in the Spring Court.
As fate would have it, you and Feyre were a lot alike.
It didn't take long to see what was going on. She was planning to run.
Over the last few months, Tamlin grew more enraged, more angry at the world. You couldn't stay, you knew you had to get out.
And Cauldron be damned, Lucien was coming with you.
He wasn't happy about it at first, especially when the two Night Court warriors winnowed Feyre away and left the two of you to walk the rest of the way to the Night Court.
"Do you think he will change?" Lucien asks you, the cold wind ruffling his hair. You shiver against the wind.
"No," you say after a long moment. Lucien pulls you close to him, heat radiating from his body against the chill.
"I don't know if we could ever go back." He says. You sigh and bury closer to him, trying to keep in step with his long legs.
"I don't think he'd allow us back." You say. Tears prick the back of your eyes, but you blink to keep them at bay. Lucien changes the conversation, happier topic chosen this time. He is talking about all the delicious food the Night Court must have when you finally spot a motel in the distance.
"Our salvation!" Lucien gasps. He grabs you by the arm, pulling you with him as he breaks into a jog. You're panting trying to keep up, but you finally make it to the building.
"We're just about sold out." The stocky female behind the desk murmurs. Lucien sighs and runs a hand through his hair. You're standing behind him, and you place a delicate hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, gaze softening.
"Ma'am, we'll take whatever you have left." You say. She rummages through her drawers, presenting a single golden key on a long corded string.
"Floor 2. Last door on the right." She huffs. You anxiously take it from her, looping the string around your neck. The key dangles like a pendant on a necklace as you take Lucien's hand in yours and lead him upstairs.
Some salvation this is.
There's only one bed.
A blessing in disguise.
"Cauldron..." he sighs, slinging his bag to the floor. "I'll just, take the floor." He says, moving into the room. You furrow your brow.
"Lucien, do you think I've never had a sleepover before? We can share." You say. You rifle through your pack for extra clothes, and with a wave of his hand, the candles and fireplace are alight with warmth.
"Well... only if you're okay with that." He says. You nod, realizing then that you have no sleepwear. Lucien seems to realize the same thing as his hands come up empty.
"You can shower first, if you were wanting to." You offer kindly. The firelight is painting his features beautifully, and you force yourself to look away. But Gods, was it hard.
"Thanks!" With that, he was heading for the bathroom. You sighed, flopping down on the bed. You hadn't expected this level of comfort from a motel bed, but the soft silky blankets, the plush pillows...
You sighed a breath of contentment, fingers toying with the gold key laced around your neck.
You stripped down to your undergarments, as your clothes from the day were filthy. Folding them into a neat pile beside the bed, you slipped under the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your body as the blankets had not yet warmed.
Lucien finally came out of the bathroom, his eyes raking over your bare shoulders not concealed by the covers. He choked down a cough, and you kept your eyes closed as he slid into the bed next to you.
His bare arm brushed yours, and your eyes flew open. You readjusted to lay on your side, and so did he at the contact. However, now you were face to face.
"Are you... cold?" He asked. His sweet gaze held yours as his fingers timidly grazed your shoulder. Fresh goosebumps appeared, and you shivered.
"Yes." He frowned.
"Comere." His hand gripped your waist, fingers over your hip bone as he pulled you flush against him. You pretended not to notice the growing buldge pressing against you as his hand traced small patterns over your back.
"I can give you some of my body heat, if this is okay?" He asks, voice low and raspy. Maybe it was the way his lips were inches from yours, the small candelight illuminating his perfectly sculpted face...
Or maybe you had finally decided to be honest.
"It's more than okay." You said. Heat returned to your cheeks, and a small smile danced on his lips as his gaze flicked between your eyes and mouth.
He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, trailing down your neck to the small key still looped around it. He toyed with it for a moment, before his lust-filled amber eyes met yours once more.
"I can give you more, if that would be okay too." He whispered. You shook again, this time the excited, anxious, energy rolling from you.
"It's more than okay."
Eris - "Who Did This To You?"
Reading was one of Eris' favorite pass times.
In fact, it was one thing he had in common with you.
The only thing, he swore.
One of many things, actually.
In fact, Eris was doing just that when he heard a commotion outside. Usually, it was his father. He'd learned not to get involved, but this time...
This was different.
His heartstrings tugged as he strained his ears, trying to listen beyond his windows for any indication of what was happening.
"Please... please..."
He snapped his novel shut, flying to his feet and racing outside. He wasn't sure what had come over him -- but he knew. He could feel it. You were here, and you needed him.
He'd thought over and over the last few years how you'd cry. How he would and could make you do it. Thought about killing you himself, once. Using his fire on you in ways he'd done only once before. You were acting like a lap dog, sitting with the Inner Circle at one of their meetings. Rhysand didn't let you talk, of course. You didn't even challenge him. You always let him walk all over you.
Maybe that's what pissed him off so badly.
You were packed full of good ideas, talents, advice; but you bowed to Rhysand, and that was that. You never spoke up for yourself.
You were worth so much more than that. You could offer so much more than you were allowed.
He tore through the hedge maze, snapping branches, feet thundering around every corner. His breathing was heavy, eyes searching in the night to find you.
"Please, Eris... someone..."
He followed your pained whimpering until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck, dried flakes throughout your usually vibrant tendrils. Your hands braced over your abdomen, tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.
"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you looked at him in desperation. His heart broke in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him.
His sadness turned very quickly, to anger. He felt... violent.
He ran his hands over your face, seeing blood pouring from your lip, and he reached up to move some hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing pool you sat in. Well, one of the causes. He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.
Who could've let this happen to you.
"Eris, I..." you coughed, more crimson drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek. His whiskey eyes were dulled to a deep bourbon, his jaw clenched.
"Come with me."
He scooped you up, carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out small yelps, the searing pain in your stomach too much to handle.
"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. He felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were. A gentle, wise, doe. His gentle doe.
He finally made it inside, sitting you on the sofa in front of the fireplace as he ran to the washroom and returned quickly. He presented a small wet cloth, taking your chin in his fingers and beginning to wipe away the red stains over your delicate skin. He tried so hard to stay gentle with you, trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others.
But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes instead. It only caused him more pain, seeing you like that. His head dropped, and he raked a hand through his hair.
"Put this in here," he grabbed a clean cloth, folding it and raising it to your mouth. You opened, usually defiant towards your enemy, but, really... you'd do anything he asked. He placed it between your teeth, and his hands covered your bloody ones, still clutching your stomach.
"Y/N... you have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, removing your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp, shaking his head.
"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your stained fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on your for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.
"I'll be honest, I've thought about hurting you before as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus as your mind started to fog, vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."
He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view, fingers ablaze with fire. You sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.
"Hold onto me." He says again. His hand meets your bubbling would, fire searing the skin as a scream tears through your already dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for a moment only to press heat onto your would again.
Your hands rip and claw at the collar of his shirt, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would.
Over. Over. Over again.
You lean back, knowing the familiar weightless feeling. You were going to black out. His once-white collar slips from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before you slink into darkness.
When you come to, you're wrapped cozily in silken sheets, a pair of fleece pants covering your legs. Soft sunlight streams in through... a window. You blink, widening your eyes and looking around. The mahogony sheets were an unusual replacement to your lilac ones, and the four poster wooden bed was a change as well. Your eyes caught on a bookshelf, one with many titles like yours, at least. One book sat on the window seat, basked in sunlight. It was a title you'd already read.
You were in Eris' room.
You lean to sit up, but cry out in pain and lay back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you bore. A bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing any injury. Your mind went to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...
In moments, Eris is passing through the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.
"Is everything alright?" He steps to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.
"I... they took me last night." You manage to get out. Eris readjusts to face you, a hand stroking through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.
"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.
You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed, and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of snow under your knees, rocks in your palms only the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.
"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you stifle another cry. Eris brushes his thumb against your cheek.
"The fucking Blood Rite." He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second.
Again, he asked, eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, who did this to you?"
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Drawn to you | Pt. 6
(A/N) There we go. I'm so sorry about not posting last week. A lot came up and I didn't find the time to write anything. Also, I really enjoy writing human!Alastor, more so than I thought, so there's gonna be more of that.
Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)
Warnings: murder...yep, sexism, nightmare, flashback
Synopsis: Will he finally remember you?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
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“Alastor?”
When did he fall asleep? As his eyes widened, he spun around and came face to face with Charlie. She looked concerned, one of her hands raised as if she was about to touch him, but hesitated.
“Ah, princess. What can I do for you?”
The demon got to his feet and swiped his clawed hands over his coat as if to smooth out any wrinkles. Now that he was standing, Charlie had to look up at him, a motion that had always given Alastor a feeling of power, but right now, all he could think about was you.
“I’m sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in on the two of you and offer to give you a break. You’ve been in this room for days now.”
It’s true. He has been here for days. Watching you sleep and heal. Watching you slowly get better. And if he’s honest, it’s the only reason he hasn’t marched up to Valentino and beat him to pulp. So no, he didn’t want the princess to take over. He wouldn’t be able to take accountability for what happens if he leaves the room without you.
“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather stay here.”
Her face fell, concern washing over it again. She opened her mouth, about to object, but a quiet whimper stopped her.
Alastor whipped around as soon as he heard the sound leave your lips and rushed to your bedside. You were thrashing around, your face distorted in fear. You were having a nightmare. Charlie joined Alastor at your side, but he quickly shooed her away, reasoning that the more people you saw once you woke up, the more you’d panic. She hesitated, but after a few seconds nodded and left the room.
The radio demon turned all his attention to you now, still battling with the blanket on top of you. He gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the mattress, trying to keep you from hurting him or yourself.
“It’s okay dear, I’m here.”
He continued to hold you down while whispering nonsense, trying to break past the panic of what you were experiencing at that moment and reach you. And it worked. You suddenly went limp, another whimper leaving your lips, but this time it was his name…but…not really his name.
“Ali…”
He blinked once…twice…three, no four times, his eyes glazing over as memories came rushing back to him. New Orleans…the radio station…and suddenly he felt the humid heat against his skin, the sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose and he pushed them back up again.
Earth - late 1910s
He stood before his workplace, the radio company where he took over the late airings. With his usual smile, he entered the well-air-conditioned building and made his way up to the offices, on a mission to find his favorite coworker.
He quickly spotted her, shoulders slumped as she read over a page. His cheerful smile lost most of its cheer, no longer reaching his eyes as he gazed upon her back. She deserved so much more than working for thankless, egotistical men who couldn’t appreciate her genius.
With quick steps, he closed the distance between himself and her and placed his hands over her eyes, his grin returning to it’s usual brightness.
“Guess who?”
The chuckle that escaped her lips made his heart beat faster, a soft blush covering his cheeks. It was the loveliest sound he’d ever heard and at the same he wished to keep that sound to himself, he wanted to broadcast it to the entire world.
“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”
His shoulders shook as a bubbly laugh escaped his lips. He rarely laughs, but with her, it felt natural. He leaned down slightly until he could whisper into her ear.
“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”
She shook her head and Alastor lowered his hands, as the woman spun around in her chair, smiling at him. And…it was you. He finally recognized you.
“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”
Gently, he took a hold of your right hand, guiding it to his lips to press a quick kiss against your knuckles, while you rolled your eyes. You always did but he still insisted on the gesture. After all, it was one of the only places he could kiss. At least for now.
“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”
As soon as you mentioned your boss, his eyes hardened and he glared at the office door that hid the fat man. If he could only kill him…maybe he would. In that moment he wondered how it felt to kill someone.
“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”
Your eyes widened at his comment you raised your hands to cover his mouth. But he just chuckled and lowered them slowly.
“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”
Alastor turned back to you with his signature smile. How adorble you were, always looking out for him.
“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”
He watched a light blush cover your cheeks. You lowered your head to hide it, but he still noticed. Of course he did, he noticed everything about you. That coy smile you were wearing right now. Your favorite perfume that he could always smell on you. How you always seemed to sit up straighter when he was near. And the excitment in your eyes when you see him.
Alastor chuckled again, before carefully ruffling through your hair, making sure not to destroy your hairdo too much. You started to complain, but before the first word could even slip past your lips, he had stopped and instead started to fix the mess he had made. Then he turned back to you.
“So, what’s on your agenda today?”
You reached for the pieces of paper on your desk and went through them, Alastor listening intently and taking notes in his head. He loved your ideas and often used them during his broadcast. Especially topics he knew you were passionate about.
“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”
Alastor nodded. He’d definitely have to mention that, especially after you turned to look at him with that sparkle in your eyes. He smiled, he loved that side of you. Excited and passionate. Something he rarely found in the women around him, something that drew him even closer to you.
His thoughts were interrupted when his name was called across the office space. He looked up and saw his boss waving him over. His eyes flickered to you and he saw the disappointment in them. And he understood it all too well, himself being annoyed that he had to leave you.
“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”
Knowing his boss didn’t like to be kept waiting, Alastor started to walk away while still facing you.
“I always do.”
Once again his heart fluttered at your words, a giant grin spreading across his lips before he turned and ran towards his boss who was already looking annoyed. As soon as Alastor was close enough, the other man started walking, keeping silent until they were out of the office.
“Well, is she your girl?”
Alastor looked at his boss, confusion plain on his face, but shook his head once the other man confirmed he was talking about you.
“Hm…in that case…maybe I’ll call her into my office then. You know, get to it. She’s a real cutie.”
Alastor would never admit it. He usually was more careful with his killings, but at the moment he saw red.
With a strained smile, he asked his boss if he’d like to go out for a smoke, his treat of course. Once the man agreed, Alastor led him out the back door, where no one ever was, and distracted him long enough for the radio host to grab a loose brick and whack him over the back of his head. It was enough to knock him out, but that wasn’t enough. If he could have, Alastor would have beaten the man to a pulp, but he couldn’t get any blood on his person, so he instead decided to use his belt to strangle him to death.
Once he was sure the man was dead, he got to his feet, breathing heavily while his lips slowly pulled into a wicked grin. Oh, how good that felt. He only wished he could’ve watched the panic in his eyes while he died.
Still, Alastor’s mind quickly returned to the task at hand. He had just killed someone in the alley behind where he worked. He’s not sure, but there was a possibility, that others saw them leaving together and then he’d be done for. His mind was racing as he thought of what to do. He had to stage the scene, that much was obvious, but how?
Burglary.
He quickly reached into his boss’s pants and pulled out his wallet, removing all the cash before dropping the empty wallet next to the body. Next, he removed the large, gold ring from the man’s little finger, as well as his pocket watch. The last touch was taking off the man’s belt and wrapping it around his neck in place of his own, just so that the police would think that it was used to murder him and not search for another one.
Once done, he stepped back, a proud smile on his lips as he pocketed the objects he had just taken. He could use those to remember this. His first kill. But surely not his last.
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Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist
Master-Masterlist
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jheselbraum · 2 days
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It's 2024 and some of y'all are still whining about Katara being "mean" to Zuko after he joined the party like he didn't directly betray her trust and almost caused her to waste the spirit water on him instead of saving it for Aang which-- while definitely not intentional on Zuko's part since 1) Zuko didn't know that Azula was going to shoot Aang with lightning and 2) He didn't offer or expect the spirit water to be able to heal his scar-- from Katara's perspective the last time she trusted Zuko the Avatar cycle almost fucking ended. Of fucking course it's going to take her the longest to trust him again, she's right! She was the first person to trust him, and he burned that bridge!
Everyone's field trips with Zuko make the most sense for both how they happen and when they happen. Toph trusts Zuko the quickest because she can literally tell when people are lying and is also good friends with Iroh, who's like, the number one "Zuko's not evil he's just in turmoil" guy. Aang trusts Zuko next because he's a fucking air nomad pacifist who is culturally predisposed to the virtue of forgiveness. Sokka trusts Zuko after an intense and prolonged mission to rescue some POWs because Sokka is a warrior at heart and while he like Toph sees the strategic value in Aang having a firebending teacher (eventually), he needs to know how Zuko behaves while on their side before he can trust him. Like-- the change in dynamic between the air temple, when Sokka and Zuko aren't on mission and Zuko is kind of the one "in charge," he has the information Sokka wants but Zuko is the one who hesitates to give it freely and Zuko is the one who dictates how Sokka leaves the temple for the boiling rock, to when they actually get there and Zuko follows Sokka's lead and Sokka is the one calling the shots and coming up with the plans really emphasizes how Zuko works in team setting when it counts.
And Katara's field trip with Zuko has to be her revenge quest, and how Zuko acts during that quest really tells us a lot about what Zuko wants personally from that field trip which is the same thing that he wanted from the others-- jack shit.
Zuko asks Sokka about his mother's death because he wants to better understand where Katara's coming from, and from where I'm standing it's pretty obvious that he only realizes "hey hang on my years at the Fire Nation School For Little Princes might come in handy actually" and tells Katara what he now knows about the raid and who did it.
And throughout the entire episode Zuko is 110% on board with whatever Katara wants to do with that information. If she'd said at the tent "Thanks but the only revenge I want is helping Aang defeat the firelord and ending the war" then he would've just been like "ok"
Zuko makes no judgement call on Katara's use of bloodbending and he makes no judgement call on Katara's decision to spare Yon Ra and every move he makes in that episode is Zuko saying "You're right, I fucked up, and I understand where you're coming from" every move he makes is in support of Katara, she is the one in control in the situation and I think that's why Zuko brushes off Aang's call to pacifism earlier in the episode, because pacifism isn't what Katara wants in that moment.
Like that whole sequence comes from such a genuine place of caring and support from Zuko for Katara and I think the interpretation that Katara is just being Mean to Zuko for No Good Reason really cheapens one of the best episodes in the series as well as the episodes leading up to it.
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