#i love liking radio stations on there and finding them again ;---;

[nerodmcdevilslayer]

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race! ✨

Thanks to @robthegoodfellow for the introduction!

Eight months after the events at Starcourt, Billy begins to have visions. Rated T for language and internalized homophobia.

June, 1985.

It was dark. He was out on a drive again. All of these backroads seemed to blend together in this damned town. Yet… he knew. He knew exactly where he was. He knew exactly where to go.

Go to Brimborn. Build it. Build it. Build it. Build it. BUILD IT.

He thought briefly about the person in his trunk. How afraid they must be. Terrified. He had long since drowned out their noises with his radio. He had tuned it to his favorite station, rock music blasting. At first, it was so loud, it hadn’t even allowed him to think. But the more he listened, the more numb he became. It was a seemingly endless cycle. Find a person, kidnap them, and take them to Him. He had tried to fight it. He didn’t want to do this. No, as much of an asshole as he was, he wasn’t a murderer. But it was uncontrollable. And his thoughts… The things he heard had broken him down so much.

You’re a disappointment. You want me to call your mommy for you? Doesn’t look like he has one of those! You’re so unlovable you can’t even keep your mother. Unlovable… Unlovable…

Was this his subconscious talking to him? Admitting things that he never wanted to admit to himself? Ever since his mother left, his life had been filled with rage and unhappiness. Why would she leave? Was it true? Was he that unlovable…?

The red lightning flashed across the sky and the radio turned to static. His hand reached out to tune it and he heard a woman talking. A radio host talking about a romance novel. He listened. He didn’t even know if what he was hearing was real. But he was stuck. Bound to listen regardless.

“…a coffee shop barista calling herself ‘Single Shot.’ This goes out to you, Mister waiter-turned-writer, hope you’re listening tonight. You: mid twenties, classically beautiful working as a waiter in a fun little brunch spot in the city. Me: mid twenties girl with bright blue hair splurging on a nice day with the girls. You’d said we should keep things secretive, and I agreed because I’m not the kind of person who makes things hard for the guy they like. We had talked about that the first time you asked what we were, when I shrugged wearing your t-shirt and said that I could be anything you needed me to be, and you said: ‘dating’.”

Halfway through the monologue, the voice had changed from a young woman’s, to a young man’s. The story sounded familiar. Keeping things a secret… another person wearing his t-shirt. His heart began to throb in his chest.

“I was happy. Because I didn’t have to be the one to ask you to be mine. I’m not a mood killer.”

Admitting his feelings after a midnight romp. Not wanting to leave because he felt so good for the first time in years. He felt… wanted.

The radio crackled again. The soft sultry music cut out. The voice turned back to a young woman’s. Colder. Harsher.

”I try and try to make it easier on you.”

A red, neon heart appeared before him. The road seemed to disappear. Another vision. LOVE ME.

“Because I want you to love me. Please love me. Please love me.”

The hearts were everywhere now. They burned into his eyes. Into his soul. He heard the mantra. Over and over again:

“Please love me. Please love me. Please love me. Please-“

The voice was interrupted by static. Through the fuzzy white noise came a voice. The young man again…

Billy… I love you.

His eyes start to burn with tears. A voice so familiar to him. The one person in this whole goddamn world that didn’t hate him. That didn’t think he was an unlovable piece of shit.

The voice was cut out and replaced by a sinister, twister version of the young woman’s. More neon signs appeared. Love me. Girls Girls Girls. Topless Bar. Gentlemen’s Club. Girls. Girls.

“I’ll do anything. I feel like I don’t exist if you aren’t looking at me. But when you see me…”

“When you see me… I know I’m real. But I’m driving through this dark without you…. It makes me feel like I’m nothing.”

It’s his own voice now.

“Please, someone find me.”

He stands in the void now. The monster… Normally, the monster would be here. But it’s dark. Cold. So much nothingness.

“Wow, what an impassioned speech from Billy’s fantasy lover. What do you think? They’re everything you specifically want in someone. They’re just like you, Billy. But you’re frightened of them. You’re frightened… of the men. The men who come your way. You’re afraid you can’t look away from them. You see them and you’re attracted to them. You’re broken, Billy. Starving for love.”

I understand you, Billy. I know you’re broken and that’s okay. I am too… But I’m here, Billy. I’m right here! Please… Can you hear me?

He can. He can hear his voice in the void. There’s something tugging at his mind both ways. Something compelling him to gather more people, to Build It.

Then something else is luring him in. Warmth. A pair of arms around him, lovingly embracing him. It’s so familiar, like it’s on the tip of his tongue. Like he knows and he can see it but it’s foggy. A shape swirling in his consciousness that’s trying to blot out the darkness. This thing that makes him happy. Hearing their voice…

He’s back in the car. It’s dark but… It’s not like that. Not like when he was taking people. He can see the stars. He can feel someone close to him. He can… feel their lips on his own. Tears sting his eyes again, this time they’re real. He’s real…

A hand caresses his cheek, that’s real too. He’s real… Brown eyes look deeply into his own. They bring him back to reality. This he knows is the truth. Please love me…

“I love you, Billy.” He whispers to him, wiping his tears.

”I love you too…” He replies. Please don’t leave me…

Little did he know this was just the beginning for them. Reliving the memories from the Summer of 1985. Something was haunting him. Three chimes of the clock. Was his time up?

-

I would like to introduce the amazing @avalonlights <3

#harringrove #harringrove relay race #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things

[buryustogether]

yandere alastor x fem!reader hcs

sfw + nsfw below

i have this idea that, when you were both still human, alastor married you for a marriage of convenience (probably tax purposes). he's not one for love, but he does quite like to make things easier for himself, as well as a bit of reliable companionship from someone he can trust. he found it rather cute that you were head over heels in love with him.

he insists upon keeping you at his side almost 24/7. you accompany him everywhere; to his station while he's broadcasting, about town as he runs his errands, even to his overlord meetings, though you are forced to wait outside. he knows you won't up and disappear; even if you weren't such a good little pet, there isn't anywhere you could run that he couldn't find you.

the other overlords tease alastor about his little 'pet' he keeps on such a tight leash. he doesn't ever object to this title.

gives you dancing lessons and doesn't allow you to rest until you can copy his movements exactly. if you collapse from exhaustion before that, he'll coo and brush your hair out of the way, then haul you to your feet and start again from the beginning.

he won't have you doing much other than keeping your shared home clean and occasionally cooking a meal or two. you're his darling, he can't have you wearing yourself out taking care of him. he'll do most everything - he just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him.

won't allow you to leave the table until you finish the meals he makes for you.

loves to have you hanging on his arm. you're like a precious little trophy for him to show off - only his, and no one else's.

being alastor's beloved companion makes you a prime target for blackmail and kidnappers, but he doesn't want you to fret, dear - he has it covered. his shadows are on your trail in the extremely rare occasion he's not with you, and he's killed demons for less than even looking your way.

doesn't allow any kind of modern technology inside his home or upon your person, even if you died long after him. he considers cellphones to be the property of his enemies, and you wouldn't want him to catch you wearing the symbol of the v's, now, would you?

he picks out your outfits for each day, even has them custom made at the tailor's just for you. he knows best, darling, so don't fight him on this. he doesn't want you going out looking like some common harlot, not when you belong to the radio demon.

often takes out his frustrations of the day on you at night when you're alone in his bedroom. he bites and scratches and thrashes like a beast trapped in a snare, and he relishes in having you wear the marks when he's done.

his favorite position to have you in is plain old missionary; not only is it traditional, but he enjoys having complete control over you while he bucks up into your heat.

like most animal-based demons in hell, he enters a rut once a month and rarely emerges from his quarters; which means you don't, either. at least three times a day, and he only stops to give you rest and to whisper the filthiest things you've ever heard in your ear.

enjoys bondage to an extent, but only on you. he's not opposed to pretty little collars wrapped around your neck, either.

now, when you're in the mood and he's not, he's not totally cruel. while he won't fuck you when and wherever, he'll allow you to straddle his thigh and hump his leg like an animal while he continues whatever work he was doing before.

he may often be brutal, he knows aftercare is extremely important. he can't leave his darling bruised and broken for next time, can he? licks up any blood he may have drawn and ensures you drink when you're done, even if he has to hold your back against his chest and tip your chin up to force the water down your throat. he'll usually run you a bath and, surprisingly, will gently bathe you before dressing you in the finest bedroom silks in hell and putting you to bed.

he doesn't sleep much, but since meeting you, he's replaced many of his nighttime activities with sitting at the side of your bed and watching you sleep.

alastor doesn't love; but he knows he would tear hell apart at the seams if you were ever taken from him.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #radio demon #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x you

[jyoongim]

Can I request and Alastor x reader where she was his wife when they were alive but she ends up in heaven while in her early 20’s due to being murdered on her way home from his radio station one night. She never knew about Alastor’s crimes but she finds out about the extermination at the meeting Charlie has with heaven and sneaks down during the next extermination not knowing if Alastor is still alive or not? Maybe some magic like reader singing No Good Deed from Wicked trying to prevent Alastor from being harmed or killed? Once they find each other I can’t imagine Alastor ever letting her leave again, not even to heaven. Can I request a bit of fluff and maybe NSFW to make up for the time spent apart? Thank you!

Title: Ruined Redemption 

Warnings: 18+! NSFW, angel!wife Reader, fem!reader, reader & Alastor married, mention of past life, mention of death, demon!alastor, fluff, creampie, rough sex, French, Heaven & Hell, am i missing something????

”You sure you dont want me to walk you home cher? I can wrap up right now” Alastor said as you pressed your soft lips to his cheek. You reassured him you would be fine. That you were perfectly capable of getting home without him escorting you.  “No no ill be fine promise. Just dont stay too late hmm? I would love to have my husband in our bed for once when the sun ain’t risin’” you said, glaring at him playfully. 

He chuckled, nodding ”Be careful on your way home cher, it ain’t safe for a doll like yourself to be roamin’ the streets at this time of night” Alastor said as you waved goodbye.

“I love you”

The stars twinkled in the sky as you stared up at them.

You blinked, raising a weak hand up to them.

 Blood.

You were bleeding. 

You had took a shortcut to get home and a man had grabbed you into a dark alleyway.

He tried to take advantage of you but you resisted, angry that you wouldn’t be a easy target he slit your throat so you wouldn’t cry out, leaving you to bleed out onto the cold concrete.

Your wedding ring shined at you. You let out a gurgle,

Alastor…

You use to think that people were lyin’ when they said your life flashed when times of death, but tears welled in your eyes as every memory of you and Alastor came to your mind.

The night you met Alastor was the last one you saw as you heaved your last breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Did you forget Hell is forever?”

You sat at the council meeting as the princess of Hell tried to reason with Sera. You were saddened that the Angels went down and executed the soul of the damned.

You thought the idea of rehabilitating souls was a good idea. 

You had waited years to see Alastor, but you quickly became concerned when each year he didn’t pass through those pearly gates.

Alastor was in Hell. At least you had hoped. 

You heard that the next extermination was soon and you plotted to descend to Hell to find your lost lover.

Alastor please be okay 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hell wasn’t as bad as you thought. 

You quickly found the hotel the princess hosted and knocked on the door.

”Oh why hello- wait you’re-” Charlie stuttered.

You gave her a smile. You must have looked ridiculous, an Angel at her door and with the extermination approaching.

”D-Do you know Alastor?” You asked, almost pleading that you hoped your lover was at her hotel.

She blinked and nodded, letting you inside.

”I thought your idea was bees knees by the way”you said as she ushered you to sit on a couch.

”W-Why thank you! But…how do you know Alastor?” She asked.

You fiddled with your ring. “Well you see I’m his-”

”Darlin’? ” a voice interrupted you.

You almost broke your neck turning around. You let out a gasp “A-Alastor?”

A tall red demon stood in the archway.

He was dressed in all red, save for the few black accents.

His face dawned shocked, though his smile never faltered. But you saw it was tense.

You stood up and approached him.

Theres no way this was your Alastor…

You subconsciously reached a hand to his face “A-Alastor…is it really you?”

He leaned into your touch, grasping your wrist softly

”Mon cher…”

Your eyes welled with tears and you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face in his chest.

Still in shock, Alastor wrapped his lanky arms around you.

Whiskey and sandalwood. That was the scent that flooded your nose, same scent that always clung to him.

”I t-thought i would never see you again” you cried.

”what are you doing here?” You asked

He smiled “I should be askin you the same thing. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be down here”

You didn’t even realize that an audience had gathered.

”what’s white wings doing down here?”

You eased your grip on him, actually taking him in.

He looked nothing like your Alastor, but you knew it was him.

”Oh baby what could you have done to land yourself in hell?” You asked.

The tall spider gave a laugh “Freaky face there is one of hell’s most powerful Overlords toots”

Alastor glared at him before looking down at you “Its a rather unpleasant story my dear, but I guess I should tell you now”

And tell you he did.

You wouldn’t have thought that your Alastor was the one who had once terrorized your city.

Your husband was…You had married a killer.

”regret marrying me doll?”he asked at your shocked face.

You shook your head “Never” you gave him a smile “But you’re at a hotel that promotes soul redemption?”

He laughed “Just a little investment of mine to pass the time. I have no notion to redeem my soul”

This caused you to panic “B-but the extermination!”

He caressed your cheek “Don’t worry about that, I wont let anything happen”

You huffed, deciding to trust him “Well aren’t you gonna introduce me?” You asked turning to give your full attention to the bunch.

”Why of course! Everyone this pretty doll is my darling wife” he beamed

”WIFE!?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor took you on a tour of the hotel. You walked, arms interlocked as he showed you around.

You laughed when he brought you to his radio tower “Just couldn’t let it go huh?” You had said, earning a laugh.

He led you to his bedroom. You marveled at how it suited him. There was a swamp that split up the room.

A true southern man you sighed.

You sat on his bed, taking it all in.

Alastor couldn’t believe that you were here.

He thought that he would never see you again.

He had figured that you were in Heaven after a few decades.

You were his sweet little wife. You were the only good thing in his life.

He absolutely lost his mind when he was told you were killed on your way home.

He should have walked you home.

Your death weighed on him for decades. Even in death.

But here you were.

You hadn’t changed a day. Well the wings and halo were new.

”Mon cher…” He approached you, voice dropping the static and kneeled before you. 

You were real and you were here.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he laid his head on your lap.

Your hands found his hair, massaging his scalp. You tickled at his ears and giggled when they twitched.

”je suis désolé mon amour. je suis tellement désolé que tu aies connu un sort aussi cruel. si j'étais juste rentré à la maison avec toi... je suis vraiment désolé” his heart was pounding as he nuzzled into your stomach.

You smiled at his words. You cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to yours “it wasn’t your fault Al. Things happen. All that matters is that we are together again. ‘Ill defy death itself to be with you," were our vows remember?”

Alastor moved quickly. He gently pushed you onto your back as he climbed over you.

”tell me…tell me our vows again”

He tugged at his bow tie and stripped off his jacket, you retracted your wings as you watched him

”A-Al?” You whispered, suddenly breathless.

”please…tell me our wedding vows”

”From the moment our paths crossed, it was always you.

It was the moment we met that I saw everything. 

Our future.” 

He unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You were everything i ever dreamed of and became so much more. 

I love you.”

He leaned down to kiss you

“Heaven and Earth cannot compare to how much I love you. 

Through the good and bad, Ill always love you.

 I give my heart and soul to you to cherish for an eternity ”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he peppered wet kisses along your neck

”Ill reap the Earth to and tear the Heavens apart to remain bound to you”

You gasped as he nipped your shoulder

”This love I give can never die. For Ill defy death itself to forever be with you.”

he buttoned your shirt, brushing a thumb over your nipples. A shiver ran through you.

”For death itself could never part us. 

I am yours forever and always and ill raise Hell if death tried to part us ”

You moaned softly as he took a nipple into his mouth.

“Alastor…”

The rest of your clothing was quickly removed.

You almost wanted to cover yourself.

When was the last time you were intimate with Alastor?

You felt like you were on your wedding night all over again.

”You’re as beautiful as when you were alive my dear”. He whispered, spreading your thighs.

You jumped feeling his hand skim your exposed clit.

You were embarrassed with how wet you were.

he still had that effect on you, even in the afterlife.

Your breath hitched as he dipped a finger inside you

Alastor groaned, you felt just as you did before.

You pulled him to your face, your face flushed and eyes lidded. Your soft lips met his as he worked your cunt.

”Alastor please” you whined against his lips.

You were always such an impatient thing.

But he would never deny you.

He growled ”If I fuck you Ill never let you go. You’ll never see those pearly gates again if you let me have you. So tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me and Ill stop” he shimmied out of his pant, freeing his cock.

Alastor was lying. Even if you told him to stop and you didn’t want this he would never let you go back to Heaven.

Not when he just got you back.

Your lips met his again, the kiss was filled with longing and passion.

”I never want to be without you again”

He slammed his lips on yours again as he slid his cock into you, swallowing your squeal as you took him.

Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk

He gave a few soft thrusts to make sure you adjusted well to him.

You panted into the crook of his neck. Nails clawing into his back as he rocked into you.

A cry ripped from your throat as he gained momentum.

”Aahh!”

This was different. So different from when you were alive.

Alastor was always passionate in bed with you, but this…this was so…you couldn’t even describe it.

a word popped into your head.

Divine

The way he fucked you told of how much he had missed you. 

Decades of being apart melting away as he pounded into you.

You locked your ankles behind his waist.

”You always take me so good cher. So so so good” He moaned into your ear.

The sound of skin hitting skin and your soft moans filled the air.

His cock hit that soft sweet spot inside you making you wetter.

”Ill ruin you. Fuck you til you’re drenched in me. Until your very scent is covered in me.” a harsh thrust brought him to be buried to the hilt.

Alastor smirked as your cunt fluttered

”You want that doll? To be ruined? To never see Heaven again? Hmmm you’ll throw away your salivation to be fucked by a demon like me?”

The telltale squelch of your cunt was his answer.

He would be damned if he ever let you out of his sight again.

His pace turned rough, he could feel himself changing.

”Alastor?” You felt him get bigger. His body morphed and when you looked at him, he expected fear.

But you looked in awe as he turned into his demon form.

Antlers big as willow branches, eyes black and glowing red like dials. He was disheveled.

He looked like a wild beast.

And he was fucking you like one.

All you could do was hang onto him. Letting him take you like you would disappear.

”ooh fuck aaahh please please” you cried as he fucked you, rutting into you with so much force you swear the bed was knocking against the wall.

You  felt your thighs tremble from taking his brute thrusts. That familiar tingle forming in your stomach.

were you gonna cum? Could you cum?

guess you’ll find out

Your demon husband was fucking you and you were gonna cum.

on his demon cock…oh heavens…

”Tu vas jouir, chérie ? Tu vas laisser un démon t'arracher ta libération ? Vous voulez que? hmmm? Tu veux jouir sur la bite de ton démon ? laisse-moi l'avoir chérie”

He purred, fucking into you so hard that a slight bulge was present.

He was going to break you. Ruin you.

He unhooked your legs, pushing one to your chest to get a better angle. Hitting those spots that had you seeing stars.

”A-Al! Oooh fu-fuuuck! I-I’m cumming oh my g-”

A large claw hand covered your lips

He snarled “There’s no God here sweetheart. Now. Cum”

Your body seized, feeling like a fire had set off as your organ ripped through you.

Alastor slapped his mouth over yours to eat your cries.

He thrusted into feverishly, seeking to paint your heavenly walls white with his cum as he fucked you through your orgasm.

”that’s a good girl, milking me dry”

He gently cradled your limp head, nipping at your swollen lips “where you want me cher? Cause i got half a mind to soak you in my cum”

You whined “i-inside…please cum inside me Alastor…baby please!”

He grinned “As you wish”

His pace quickened and with a low growl he emptied his cum into your cunt, sighing as he filled you til it spilled around him.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, wincing at the emptiness that he left behind, feeling his cum drip down your ass.

Alastor purred like an engine as he took you into his arms, basking in the afterglow as you cuddled into his side.

This is where you belonged.

By his side.

He’ll tear Heaven apart if they tried to take you back.

You were the Radio Demon’s.

Forever and always

@jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @markster666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @horrorartsworld @gojosaturos-wife @ioniiaa @alstorloml @polytheatrix @catherine69420 @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @night-owl-2000

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #jyoongim #alastor smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Alastor x angel reader #Alastor x wife reader #Alastor request #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

Part Two

Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 

You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.

He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!

He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 

But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 

Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 

So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 

Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 

You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 

On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 

She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”

“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 

Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 

Yes, it is better this way.

That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 

Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 

He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 

However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.

 Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 

He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 

“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 

The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”

“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am not out of here within ten minutes.” 

“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”

You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”

He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t had tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”

“Because I know the truth.”

Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 

“I know the truth. I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 

The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned you against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 

“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”

“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 

In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 

“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 

“Release me.”

“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW

“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 

So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?

In twenty minutes, he needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.

What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 

He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.

He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 

Taglist

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #yandere x reader #forbidden-sunlight #yandere male #yandere #ns.fw #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #tw possessive behavior #cw possessiveness #hazbin hotel spoilers #violet evergarden!reader #character!reader

[alastorsfuckassbob]

We'll Meet Again

Alastorxfem!reader

Part two to "you're never fully dressed without a smile"

Plot: You're down infamously bad for Alastor. You work for a shift for Valentino and somehow you end up at everyone's favorite hell based hotel! I swear to god you will make physical contact with deal Al by chapter 3.

A/N: OH GOD THIS IS A LONG ONE, and honestly for an Alastor fic really Valentino and Angel Dust focused- but like any good story there are more than two characters so we should develop them✨

As always, minors DNI-

Somehow we got spicer and a bit more angsty so read the warnings and think critically if its something you really want to read

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

-Domestic Violence, Abusive Relationships

-Swearing

-Valentino (has to be its own warning)

-Smoking and Alcohol use

-Sexual Innuendo

"Y/n"

"Y/n, please let me hear you. Your voice lights a fire within me that I cannot ignore"

The static popped, heartfelt and genuine, the phrase echoing throughout the dimly lit room and deep into the pits of your soul. It reminded you of those late nights spent at the studio with him. Of the memories you had created with him, you spent the least time mulling over your time at the station. It was just too much to handle, you would sit for hours talking about whatever fancies fit the time, swaying to the complex chords and swing of the music. No matter what mood you walked in with, it vanished the moment your frame entered his arms. Your hand grazed the edge of your cheek in the mirror imagining how his hand traced the outline of your face as it so often used to do. The show had hundreds of listeners, you were speaking to the world so it would appear, but anything and everything you said or played was made strictly for each-other.

Here you were, lost in time once again. You had missed those little moments, far more than you anticipated. You had always been one to get lost following the tracks of memory. but this..this was different, your body felt as if it was buzzing. His honey lined transatlantic accent reverberated throughout your skull. Sickeningly sweet, holding desperation but still not depravity. It lacked the typical Sadism and savagery, a commonality in your hellish experience. The wicked pair usually found itself wrapped around your arm and caught against your throat. You had become accustomed to those feelings of desperation, but somehow his was different. He hadn't said much of anything and it felt like he had bottled every sweet nothing and loving whisper he had uttered in your direction throughout your life, and poured them into his tonality all at once. The static grew heavier.

"Y/-n y-y-N"

his voice became distorted and crackled. He kept speaking but the words were mangled and malformed. You couldn't quite make out what he was attempting to get across. You couldn't lose him not another time, even if you hadn't really "had him" again.

It was enough to send you into a fit of desperation.The incoherencies faded out, only deafening static remained .

"Alastor"

your wavering voice filled with alarm. You rushed to the radio nearly falling of the counter as you did so. You feverishly tuned the knob hoping for just another moment with him, even if it was just audibly. The electricity crackles, and dark grey smoke erupts from the small box and into your face. You cough rapidly upon contact. The fire sparks, promptly melting the exterior of the radio.

"shit fuck shit fuck shit"

You rasp between coughs. Something ablaze was not entirely out of the ordinary, yet you remained panicked. you thoughtlessly unplug the radio, scalding your hands in the process. Not knowing what else to do, you throw the newly aflame radio into the tub. It wheezes out another plume of smoke before sinking down into the water.

"well that isn't..ideal"

You decide its a tomorrow issue and head off to sleep. Still slightly shaken up, you throw on a silky nightgown and plop into your bed. You wouldn't find peace in your sleep, you never did. You closed your eyes unready to face your demons but too exhausted to care.

The next day comes to pass sooner than you'd care to admit. You don't feel well rested, but you can't find it in yourself to go back to sleep. Your thoughts are still so dreadfully plagued with Alastor. The way his lips felt on your own, the soft gentle curl of his hair. Everything aspect of him was so fundamentally perfect. Even his so called flaws. He may be an attention seeking idiot, but he was your attention seeking idiot. That was all that mattered. You'd be happy to do most anything to supply him his attention fix. You looked at the clock across from your bed, it was already noon. You had told Angel you'd be at the club around one. Unhappily, you rolled out of bed grabbing another outfit from your closet to change into. You applied some simple mascara, and tied up your hair. You could finish getting read with Angel Dust like you usually did.

You arrive at the club meet Angel, you liked to arrive a few hours before your call time just to talk with each other. You had vastly different schedules but you made it work. You walk through the lobby watching other scandalously dressed demons go about their daily life. You could have sworn you saw a flick of shadow watching you from behind the other inhabitants. You shook it off, you didn't sleep well, its possible you're just seeing things.

You arrive at your dressing room, and knock at the door. Its a calm and quiet environment. The eye before the storm working tonight will plunge you both into.

"the fuck do you want, can't a guy do his eyeliner in peace"

you roll your eyes before opening the door, he glances back at you.

"oh hey toots, didn't expect you so soon- you're not late"

"Fuck off angel"

you sit down in your chair and begin brushing out your hair. Val was very particular about the image you portrayed, even if your hair was already curly he'd want it to curl differently, If it was straight, he'd want it consistent coiffed to his liking.

If you didn't have hair he'd probably get you a wig of some kind. You glance down at the black porcelain mask on the counter. It was delicately painted with small golden roses. It was the only thing between you and an army of horny fans. Angel finishes his eyeliner with a small flick of a wing.

He stands up and takes the brush from you. He combs through the ends making sure there aren't any tangles left before grabbing the curling iron. To be quite honest, you both absolutely sucked at doing your own hair, so you did each others. It was nice, and he always made you look good. You had known angel for quite some time, you felt like you knew who he was but nothing about him.

He was always rather private about the details of his life before hell. You had gathered he was Italian by his sound, and that he had been involved with the mob from small anecdotes he sometimes shared.

It didn't really matter who he used to be, he was your friend and you loved him.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible y/n, but you look like shit" He grabbed a strand of your hair wrapping it around the wand.

"oh gee thanks" you deadpan

"long night?" he asks releasing your hair from the curling wand scrunching it slightly.

"something like that, how about you, you look shockingly well rested, and i doubt its just the concealer"

"I'm staying at a new place" he continues working his way around your head.

"Val let you leave?" a hint of shock permeated your voice

"he can't dictate where i stay when i'm off the clock babe" He grabs a smaller curling want and begins with some small face framing pieces.

"does he know?" you ask hesitantly. You didn't want to upset him.

"I don't think he's caught on yet, probably figures I'm just out getting drunk and high off my ass"

"to be fair you often are"

"you're no angel either y/n" He rolls his eyes, he picks up the larger wand again and re-curls a few more of the back pieces.

"where did you move off to?"

You were lucky to have your own apartment. Most souls under contract with Valentino stayed in the complex....Your situation wasn't much better but it was enough. To be completely honest, you only lived about a ten minute walk from here. It wasn't much of a distance, but it was far enough Valentino would rather call upon some other, closer, unlucky soul outside of work hours to do his bidding. It was good enough. It was shocking to hear Angel had managed to find someplace with his cocaine habit and how little Val payed us.

"Its that rickety hotel on the edge of the Pride ring, I know it doesn't sound like much but its free" You almost visibly buffered from shock. How did he manage that? Then it hits you, he's probably sleeping there for free because he's sleeping with someone.

"who'd you have to fuck to get a room there"

"y/n" he groaned, slightly annoyed by your antics.

"No angel I'm serious, its hell people don't just give things out for free" you mused at his reaction.

"I didn't have to fuck anyone, its run by the princess, shes trying to rehabilitate souls"

"is that even possible" your mind began to swim with possibility.

"i dunno, i don't really care. It gives me a space to just exist..as myself..away from all of this"

your hand finds his way into one of his.

"i understand what you mean" your voice comes out no more than a whisper.

He continues curling your hair silently for a bit. Angel had his issues but he was a good person. He just found himself in a bad situation. Unexpectedly, he broke the silence. You two had a lot in common, including your tendencies of avoidance.

"you should live there too y/n, its free, and theres a bar, the bartender isn't too bad looking either."

You smile at the thought, it would be nice to get away from it all. Thats all it could be though, a thought. You were already on such thin ice with Val.

"Angie dear it sounds nice, but we both know I'm already Val's least favorite sinner. I shouldn't aggravate him more" you say with a defeated huff. Angel wraps another tendril of your h/c hair around the wand

"You can't let his life be your only life. I'm not stupid doll, I know you've been spending a lot more time around here." He's visibly and audibly frustrated.

He stays quiet for a minute picking up another strand of your hair.

"you're more than what you can do for Valentino okay? you were a person before you're still a person after, don't let him take everything from you." his voice becomes quiet, almost unrecognizable. Its velvety in a way, he speaks almost as if he's telling you just as much as he's telling himself Its the realest you've ever seen him be.

He quickly shakes it off

"his ugly mug cant be the only thing you see, I swear to god every time I look at him I throw up a little" He releases your hair from the curling iron stepping back to admire his work.

"now don't you look riveting" A jokingly seductive tone takes hold of his voice.

Your mind sparks with an idea, why complain about Val when you can just straight up mock him?

You stand up, rushing to the clothing rack, sift through the items before finding a long cherry red robe. Naturally its angel's. Its far too long for you, the second set of arms gets a little confusing, but eventually you slide it on. You sit back seductively on the counter mocking good ol Valentino.

"angel dust! you slut! you're fucking 20 guys before lunch! " You cross your arms dramatically before standing up on the counter. You strut across, being careful not to step on any of his things, but still maintaining the destructive energy Val usually carries.

A wild smile courses through your features, you grab the magazine Angel had been reading before you came in and throw it back into his face.

"Heres the 40 page shockingly kinky script about some kidnapping scene in France you have an hour to memorize, ignore the syntax errors and improvise!" He looks up at you baffled. I mean, you were right-He starts laughing uncontrollably,

"y/n what the fuck" he sputters out

You laugh along with him. He reaches up placing his arms around your waist, putting you onto the ground with very minimal effort. For a second you feel a bit like a house cat hopeless dragged off the counter. Angel was shockingly strong, for such a lanky guy he certainly wasn't flimsy or weak

A smug look overtakes his features

"let me show you how its really done"

He takes the robe off of your body and dawns it himself. He whips out a pair of bedazzled pink sunnies. Tilting them down, he gives you a cheeky wink. Once the knot of the belt is tied he is fully into character

"My siren! Y/n."

"oh god" you roll your eyes as angel begins his display. He walks across the room dragging you with him before twirling you into his arms. You cant help but be a little dizzy at the sudden motion.

"y/n, baby! You have made much so much money with that truly bodacious rack" He swings his arm around your waist. You both stifle a laugh as he drags his second set of hands across the shape of your body in the air in front of you.

"Angel I don't think Valentino would ever utter the phrase "bodacious rack", at least not in this existence" You form your fingers into little air quotes playfully rolling your eyes at him

"shh toots i am working on a real character here"

"Angel" you sigh

"shh" he hushes you again placing his finger against your lips.

Your collective antics go on for a little over two hours, stopping only briefly for you to style his fleecy hair. He looks at the clock before letting out an aggravated sigh. He pulls his body up from his chair.

"I gotta go doll, Val has me shootin yet another new movie before we shoot the scheduled "film", perks of being Hell's best actor" He grumbles grabbing his robe off of the floor leaving you alone in your shared dressing room.

You continued getting ready, expertly styling your newly curled hair and applying a thick coat of deep red lipstick. It wasn't too long after the door swung open. The suffocating smell of lust filling your lungs.

"My dear sweet y/n! how about we lose the mask for tonight?" Valentino burst into the room as if he owned the place. To be fair, he did. You still found it a bit off putting he didn't knock. Despite your profession, you valued privacy.

"Val-" You began, he cut you off.

"I don't believe I was asking." a smirk decorated his sly features.

"Respectfully, sir. It's not within my contract to appear as I truly am."

This shit again. Val was always on your ass about this. He always wanted more. Usually after a few minutes of arguing, he'd give up. There was nothing else he could do, so you don't think much of it. You pull out a cigarette, flicking the lighter, the small white stick begins to blaze.

You blow a cloud of hot red smoke in his direction. He rolls his eyes gritting his teeth in frustration. He takes a deep breath, sordid displays of force didn't work the best on you. You'd be frightened, but your stance would rarely change. Not unless he got physically violent, and quite honestly he was not in the mood today. You were not the most important thing to deal with. Its not that he didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to waste his time. He tries a lighter, more manipulative approach.

"Think of how much success your beautiful little face would bring us. Sinners and Hell born alike already get off to your body, its just revealing a little bit more"

"No, I won't do it" your voice is small but resolute. He didn't have the patience for this. As soon as the word "no" left your lips Val had begun to lose it. "Wasting time" became a lot less important. Members of the Ars Goetia family would be present in tonight's audience. You had to look your best, so he could look his best.

"You are going to out there without that fucking mask and give all of hell a good show. You won't like what happens if you don't listen." He growled through gritted teeth

"Its breaking the contract. Val" You take another lazy puff from your cigarette. He ripped the cigarette from your hand, throwing it on the ground. He was done with your shit.

"I own you. Did you forget that, I own your body and your voice. you speak only when i want you to. You fuck who I choose. The only thing you technically have a right to is your name, isn't that right my little siren?"

His voice is sleazy to say the least, the tone makes you shudder. You couldn't help but think,

...was he right? you had asked to be anonymous, you never thought to specify how. He continued before you had a real chance to observe your thoughts. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, snakelike and seductive. He was getting tired of this, tired of you.

"the mask is getting old, hell will get tired of you if you don't give them more. you won't like what happens if they deem you all washed up.."

You attempt to move away, His grasp on your arm grows tighter. You flinch slightly from the pain, but not enough for him to notice. He wants to elicit a reaction in you, perhaps if you stay calm he'll give up.

"I have some very specific clientele coming to tonights show I need you to wow them"

You could hardly believe the audacity. Sure, Valentino was always kind of a prick but this complete and total discount of your previously agreed terms was relatively new. He had suggested removing the mask before and brought it up countless times, but this level of disregard was new. Screw being calm you weren't about to be this fundamentally disrespected.

"No I won't do tha- " his hand waves cutting you off. your voice caught in your throat the sigil on your hand marking his ownership glowing a dull faded pink.

"I can do whatever I please. I've let you forget that, I've been going too easy on you. Rereading our little contract brought me the enlightenment I needed. Those who bite don't get to speak" he pauses moving away from you taking in your figure.

"it looks like you'll just be dancing tonight, and what a wonderful performance that is going to be."

The click of his shoes taps against the stark white tile as he walks towards the clothing rack in the edge of the room. He hums, picking out a dark red burlesque outfit. He exchanges it for the mask from the table and breaks it in his hand.

"I think a more revealing number will compensate more than enough for your silence..don't you?"

Your last defense had been shattered. The last ounce of your personage robbed for the sake of pleasing some sleazy unsavory high end customer. You tried to speak but the words stayed nestled inside of you. You wanted to scream or talk honestly you'd take a whisper at this point, still, nothing. The anger in your heart welled its way up into your throat and without an outlet, your frustration took root in your tears."Great" you thought, "just what i needed to look respectable, yet another crying fit."

He grabs you by your shoulders, it had never registered how small you were in comparison. You knew he was tall, but in ten years, you'd never noticed how much taller he was. Usually the moth hunched over in some way to communicate better as his eyesight is less than superior...Yet here he stood a good three or four feet taller than you, anger almost visibly steaming off of his purple fur. two of his hands grasped firmly on your newly bruised shoulder, the other on your neck, and the last raised and ready to strike you. Closing your eyes you accept your fate. the contact comes and as soon as it does you are sprawled on the floor. Unable to move, unable to run. You had never been strong enough to fight. After all you were still the same person you were in 1936 and long after that. Your nose gushes blood, splattering droplets onto the tile as he abruptly jerks you up from the floor.

"maldita cabrona! quién se cree que es?"

he tuts clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It sounds oddly like the loading of a gun. Every aspect of his body was drenched this newly violent attitude. His moth like horns lined with anticipation, twitching with every rigid breath.

Valentino had gotten rough with you before but not like this. This time, it felt more real. He leans in closer, his face directly in front of your own. From another angle perhaps the pose looked sweet,loving even. The thought made you sick.His arm rested against your shoulder, just forceful enough to cause you pain but not so harsh to send you tumbling to the ground again. The sharp talons tipping his long fingers traced the edge of your face, deep red blood madly racing after it. He would have killed you then in there if you weren't such a "valuable asset".

"Next time you'll learn to listen, I've killed fuckers for less than this shit you're giving me. If I don't have the patience with angeldust I certainly won't have it with you, even if you're named hell's favourite pequeña pecadora." He pauses glaring deep into your eyes

"I made you y/n, i can take that away and kill you myself whenever i please. try not to forget that again"

His inflection is wickedly sweet, but not sugary enough to hide his true malice.

He grunts in frustration, throwing you against the dressing room table, the back of your head shatters the mirror. An all too familiar feeling. He laughs viewing the position he's put you in, it is a dry, heartless, and dirty sound. The silence after is chilling. You close your eyes bracing for another impact that just doesn't come. He must have gotten bored with you, he usually did after a while. The door finally slams, the lights of the dressing room flicker and then click off. You slide down onto the floor, all you are left with is the small pool of blood and regret.

The performance that night felt like an eternity. Your skin practically peeling off as lustful eyes burned holes through your skin. You had drank a few more than too many cocktails. It wasn't nice to refuse a gift, and it kept you a little less than fully conscious. stumbling through the hallway you arrived once again at your dressing room. you sat down hopelessly viewing the dark purple bruises formed from your previous alteration through the shattered remnants of your mirror. So much for not "damaging the merchandise" as Val would so often say.A soft knock rattles you from your thoughts. the door creaks open and Angel Dust slides in. You silently look at each other's exhausted frame and scratched faces. Angel was the closest thing you had ever had to a friend, and just about the only person who could ever understand what you're going through. After all, your experience was modeled after his.

"Whats wrong y/n? cat got your tongue?"

Despite his exhaustion he kept up his usual performance. You didn't respond, you couldn't. The tears so expertly rimmed in your eyes threaten to fall. His expression falters and he walks up to you hugging you tightly. You didn't need to say or do anything to explain. He knew exactly what you were going through. For just a moment you relax into his arms.

A minute or so passes and you break the contact. You figure a little context wouldn't hurt. You motion to the glowing sigil on your wrist and then to your throat, hoping he understood the signal.

"You can't speak can ya doll?" He asked softly his hand ruffling your hair. You shook your head no.

"God i hate that fucking prick, he can't just play fair. Maybe if he did that sorry fuck wouldn't be making shitty porn and running washed out clubs for a living". He angrily paces around the room. As he speaks you grab an eyeliner pen and the back of some flier someone left taped to your door. It seemed like the easiest way to communicate. You messily scrawl the words

"Can I stay with you I promise its just for one night"

He takes the page from you a smile taking root.

"damn toots what happened to not mixing personal and professional life?" he joked. You sat there motionless, tears threatening to spill. He takes the hint and grabs a coat off of the rack wrapping it around your shoulders.

"I thought you'd never ask-I've been dying to hang out outside this shit hole. Let's head out, Its gonna rain soon and these boots are too hot to be messing with that acid bullshit"

He posed albeit dramatically earning a smile from you. He tilts his head towards the door and the two of you leave the messy dressing room behind. It was one of the few things you didn't have to worry about. After all, Valentino values appearances, any mess you had made would be gone in the morning. In one way or another, you could fuck up any way and make any mess, and Val would have it cleaned up. The only messes he wouldn't fix were the ones he made himself. The cuts on your body always lasted longer than your reflection in a broken mirror. Unlike you the mirror could be fixed.

Not long after you arrive at this so called "Hazbin Hotel"..you didn't have much to say other than it...seemed fitting. You walk up a few flights of carpeted stairs. His hand calmly connected to yours. He continues down the long winding hallway before reaching a large wooden door at the end. He unlocks the room, and it is exactly what you'd imagine it to be. An embodiment of everything "angel dust".

A few hours and a pack of cigarettes later, the rain starts. The acid falls from the sky burning sinners and generally..most everything in its path. The sizzle on the sidewalk almost sounds like the crackle of a record player. Leaning further back into his bed, you pull out yet another cigarette. Your hand waves, gesturing towards the box and Angel takes the last of the pack. He lights the end of yours first and then clicks the lighter again in an attempt to get his own fix. However the lighter had other plans, it pops and ticks before sputtering out completely. He strikes it a few more times to no avail

"Shit what does a guy gotta do to get a decent lighter in this shit hole"

His arms raised above his head in some odd exaggerated performance of anger. Despite the lack of necessity, you found the fake drama to be amusing. It reminded you of Alastor in some strange way. It was different than the usual drama you found yourself viewing. Hell is full of overdramatic assholes, at least Angel isn't.. cruel. You take the first hit of your newly lit cigarette. The pink smoke fizzling into your lungs, giving you a sense of calm you cant really find anywhere else.

"What you aren't gonna share?" he deadpans before he presses the edge of his previously unlit cigarette to yours.

You look at him as if to say "Angel you dumb bitch that never actually works you're just going to put mine out and then we'll both be miserable"

He rolls his eyes with his signature smug look. He presses his cigarette a bit closer to your own. Shockingly it lit up in a hot pink flame.

"Working with Val sucks but at least you learn a few useful things",

He deeply inhaled from his own newly lit cigarette, puffing the strawberry coloured smoke into your very clearly unamused face. Still. you couldn't help but laugh.. or you tried to anyway, not that it would have worked. You took another long delightful drag and sent the smoke his way. A fit of giggles ensued, at least on his part. You were just happy it worked and he didn't end up pissed off.

The action made you wonder, what if you weren't just meant to hurt others. perhaps you could light them up instead of burning them down. You sat there for about another hour, listening to Angel's sleep deprived rambles. It wasn't too much long after that your own exhaustion finally carried you safely into a well deserved slumber. It was peaceful, the most restful night you'd had since your fall into this desolate shit pit known as hell..For once you didn't "dream." You weren't haunted with his face. His shadow didn't suffocate you. The ghost of your past stayed simply that, a ghost.

The night passes swiftly. Almost as quickly as the stars had appeared they retreated deep into the hazy maroon sky and bright carmine clouds. The rain had stopped, somehow the damages caused weren't entirely discernible from the average look of things. It was then you heard radio static again.

Familiar and soothing, his gravelled voice broadcast to the denizens of hell.

"Good morning to all of you lovely listeners ! Today's broadcast is brought to you by hell's favourite sinner, what isn't to love about that little starlet. Tune on in dearest, I've been hearing so much about you."

the music started softly carried by the wind and into your ears. You felt intoxicated.

We'll meet again

Dont know where, dont know when

but I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smiling through, just like you always do

til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

It was irrevocably, unmistakably unquestionably him.

Alastor, your Alastor.. was in hell. Not to mention an overlord (shocker there). Despite that fact, you were evidently on his mind. He was speaking to you and only you. There was nothing you could do to respond.

So you listened, to his voice, the instrumentation, the melody, everything. Maybe it would somehow bring you closer to him...

Unbeknownst to the both of you, you were no more than a few rooms apart, enjoying your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

a/n: I SWEAR I PROMISE YOU, ANGEL, AND ALASTOR ARE GONNA WRECK THAT LITTLE FUCKERS SHIT, dw

#alastor #hazbin hotel #ao3 #valentino #angel dust #valentino being a nasty fucker #im so sorry to all of the val fans i think hes rancid so the writing reflects that #alastor x reader

[megalony]

Falling For Me

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, requested by Anon. I enjoyed writing this one, I hope you all like it. Feedback and requests are always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989

911 Masterlist

Summary: When the team are called out to a mugging scene, they get more than they bargained for when they find (Y/n). Eddie's little sister. Evan's crush.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is that your girl?"

Evan lifted his eyes from his phone and looked across at Hen who was wiggling her brows and curving her lips into a wide grin. She pursed her lips and tilted her head, pretending to blow kisses his way until Evan was smothering a smile and shaking his head. He looked down at his phone and quickly shoved it back in his pocket before any of them could lean over and see who he was messaging.

"Nope."

"Hm,"

"You holding out on us, Buck?" Eddie nudged Evan's shoulder as the truck started moving and they all got comfy in their seats.

"No, no one special in my life." He was speaking the truth. Mostly. Evan wasn't in a relationship, but that didn't mean he didn't have his eye on someone he thought of as special.

He just so happened to know Eddie's little sister rather well and he thought she was amazing. But she was Eddie's sister and that meant Evan had to tread very carefully. He couldn't try anything or push the bouondaries and ruin the friendship he had with both (Y/n) and Eddie if she didn't see him in that way.

And she hadn't technically messaged him right now either. He had sent her a message earlier but hadn't heard anything back. He just wanted to check his phone since their third call out of the day was now finished, but she hadn't gotten back to him yet.

"Yeah, sure so you-" Chimney cut himself off and looked around the truck as if a sign from God had just dawned upon them when a call came through the radio from dispatch.

"Dispatch to one-eighteen. We have a scene on the corner of Park Street, attempted mugging with two casualties. Please respond."

"One-eighteen, on our way."

A chorus of groans flooded the air of the truck as everyone grabbed their headsets and put them on as the siren started to blast out again. It looked like they were no longer heading back to the station to have dinner, they would be going on another call out. Evan's shift was now extending, he was planning to have lunch with the team and go home for a long power nap. Guess not anymore.

"Do you think we'll get to make an arrest?" Evan looked out the window as the truck made a sharp right turn and sent them all squishing into each other like sardines in a tin.

They had gone to a scene before when Hen was acting Captain and she got to make an arrest while they waited for the police to turn up and apprehend the man. If this was a mugging scene and the mugger was still there, maybe they would get to arrest him as well as patch him up and wait for assistance.

"I think the police will be on their way, Buck." Bobby leaned behind him to pat Evan's shoulder.

If they were being redirected it was because they were the closest scene and they would be able to provide medical assistance quicker than sending an ambulance out. And dispatch would have to notify the police about an attack so chances were a police car would be on their way to the scene as well.

"Eddie, Hen, get a med bag each. Let's see what we've got."

Everyone climbed down from the truck and went to grab their gear and Evan followed after Bobby, trailing away from the truck to see what was going on. They could hear shouting from the moment they climbed down from the truck and there seemed to be a gathering of people hanging around.

"LAFD, make room. Can someone tell me what's happened here?" Bobby rose his voice to the crowd of five or six people gathering in a huddle near an alley. He glanced his eyes around everyone to try and see what had happened, he couldn't work out where the casualties were and dispatch said two people had been injured and needed help.

"That bitch stabbed me-"

"He attacked that girl and she stopped him getting away."

A sigh passed through Bobby's lips as he planted his hands on his hips and looked at the man who was laid on the floor. He was cradling his left thigh where a puddle of blood was trailing down his leg and dripping onto the pavement beneath him. He had a frantic look in his eyes, black gloves on his hands matching his hoodie and jeans and he had a cloth around his neck that Bobby guessed someone had pulled down to see his face.

Bobby made his way to kneel beside the attacker and silently pointed at Evan to go see where the other casualty was.

Evan had his words all formed in his head. 'Miss, it's the LAFD. Can I check you over? Are you hurt?' But he didn't get to say any of them when he moved towards the alley and caught sight of the girl in question. She was curled up on the floor, leaning against the wall at the very edge of the alley. Her body was slumped to the left, knees curled awkwardly beneath her and her arms were coiled tightly to her chest as she slowly rocked herself back and forth.

Tears drenched her face and sobs and bubbling gasps broke free from her trembling lips. But when Evan caught sight of her face, his blood ran cold and he couldn't breathe.

Oh God no.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n) it's me, it's Evan." He dropped down to his knees in front of her and held his hands out in front of him to show her he wasn't going to hurt her. He was safe. He wanted to help. "Can I-"

"Evan!" His name croaked past her lips like he was some sort of miracle or epiphany that (Y/n) had wished for.

Her trembling body pushed forward onto her knees and she thrust herself into Evan's chest before he could ask if he could help her. His arms froze in mid-air before he snapped himself back into action and slowly coiled his large frame around her like a safety blanket.

He gently smoothed his hand up and down her back, tensing when he felt her hands slip beneath his florescent jacket and her nails scratched into his shirt like sharp metal nails. Someone had tried to attack her. Someone had hurt her, here, in broad daylight. Someone had attacked Eddie's little sister, the girl Evan was sweet on.

"Buck, what we got?" Eddie slung the medic bag on his shoulder and trudged over to Evan while Chimney and Hen went to sort out the man Bobby was trying to calm down. He could hear the man shouting and cursing from over here and it made Eddie cringe. It didn't take much to guess that the man was the mugger. Sometimes Eddie didn't like the fact that they also had to look after the people comitting crimes as well as the victims.

He dropped the bag to the floor but when he knelt down beside Evan, Eddie's blood ran cold and he tensed. His jaw locked in place and his chocolate brown eyes glazed over like black holes when he looked at the girl curled up in Evan's arms.

"(Y/n)," Her name fell from his lips in a quiet whisper and he realised he was shaking. His hands were gripping the medic bag, curled around the leather until he was leaving markings in the bag. And Eddie could feel Evan nervously fidgeting beside him, unsure how anyone was going to react.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) could barely see her brother due to the tears streaming down her face and she hiccupped through her breaths.

Her arms uncurled from Evan and she started to sob harder when Eddie almost ripped her out of Evan's arms and into his own embrace.

"No, no what's happened? What the fuck did he do to you?!" Eddie brushed his hand along the back of her neck but when he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, he pulled back quickly. (Y/n) cried out into his chest, flinching down and croaking when he touched the top of her head.

His hands moved to gently cup her face and he tilted her head down so he could assess the top of her head.

Blood was smeared into her hair and trickling down the side of her face near her ear. But what made Eddie frown and caused Evan to lean over for a better look was the tiny shards of green glass they could see meshed in with her curls.

"(Y/n), what happened?" Eddie smoothed his thumb across her tear-stained cheek while his eyes raked over her for any further injuries.

When Eddie gently let her go so he could rummage around in the medic bag, (Y/n) turned to look at Evan in surprise when he shrugged off his florescent jacket and draped it around her shoulders. The action made her chest ignite for different reasons and calmed down her raging, hiccupping breaths.

Without thinking, (Y/n) leaned to the side and tucked herself back into Evan's chest as if that was where she belonged and he didn't object. He swooped his right arm around her waist while his left hand ran up and down her trembling arm to try and keep her calm.

"He… he grabbed me from behind and d-dragged me in the alley. When I wouldn't give him my bag he pushed me down… I- I did what you said,"

Her words caused Eddie to pause and look up at her in panic. What had he told her do to? What advice did he give her as a big brother? Eddie had told all three of his sisters a lot of advice over the years. He was the eldest out of them all and when their dad worked away, Eddie had to help look after them. (Y/n) was the youngest out of them all and Eddie was the closest to her which was why she had moved down to LA with him and Chris.

He had tried to give her a lot of self defense advice and teach her what to do and what not to do in certain situations.

"I had my keys on me so… so I stabbed him, I didn't want him getting away,"

"Bobby, the weapon used on him," Evan gently took (Y/n)'s keychain from her and held it out to Bobby who was stood in the middle, observing the scene as a police car rolled up. The captain nodded and placed the keys in a plastic bag.

(Y/n) remembered Eddie telling her she could use anything as a weapon if she needed to protect herself and keys were a great weapon. They were small to hide in the palm of her hand and they were metal and had jagged edges, perfect to cause a little damage and harm someone enough to make them stop.

She needed the man to get off her and he was thrashing around pinning her down, she didn't know what else to do. (Y/n) found her keys from her pocket and thrust her house key into the man's left thigh. She didn't know where her power came from and she almost threw up when she watched and felt the metal cut through his flesh.

But it stopped him from getting away. She wasn't letting him leave after attacking her.

"What did he do to your head, sweetheart?" The pet name fell past Evan's lips before he could stop himself but he was glad Eddie didn't seem to notice.

"He was screaming at me, before I could move he grabbed a bottle and h-hit me, I-" She broke off, another round of trembling tore through her body as she started to cry.

"He smashed a bottle over your head?!" Eddie tilted his head to look over at the man currently getting an IV in his arm and his trouser leg cut so they could see the extent of his leg wound. "Wait 'til he meets me, I'll shove it up his-" He broke off when he felt Evan jerk his shoulder. (Y/n) was starting to hyperventilate and Eddie going into protective mode wasn't going to help if he was going to start a fight.

"Shh, hey it's alright. You did great," Evan gently unravelled his arm from around her waist and his smile faltered when (Y/n) desperately grabbed at his arm as if she thought he was about to leave. "I'm gonna give you an IV, get rid of the shock."

Evan thought for a moment as he held (Y/n)'s hand that was digging so tightly into his exposed arm that she was starting to draw blood. She was clearly in a big state of shock if she was afraid letting go of him was going to somehow get her hurt.

"Here, hold tight." He gently prized her fingers from his arm and moved her hand to his thigh as he shuffled closer until their knees were touching. She could squeeze, scratch and grip his leg as much as she wanted and he didn't care if she punctured through his trousers into his flesh. As long as she stayed calm.

He looked through the bag and found an IV bag and a needle and he swabbed the crease of (Y/n)'s elbow before gently pushing the needle into her vein. She was in so much shock she barely flinched at the feeling.

Eddie's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to stay calm but he couldn't. Someone had chosen to make his sister a victim, tried to hurt her and then whacked her over the head with a bottle that had smashed and cut through her skin. She was lucky she didn't have any mass bleeding and that the glass hadn't reached her skull. He could have given her swelling or cranial damage.

He slid a blood pressure cuff up (Y/n)'s left arm and checked her BP which was rather elevated but her pulse was good.

"Eddie, how is she?" Bobby moved to stand near the, unsure what was happening over here when both members of his team seemed to know this victim. And he didn't like the dark look in Eddie's eyes when he turned to face him.

"That cunt smashed a bottle over my sister's head."

"Ah. This is (Y/n). Can we get her transported? Athena's going to take him down to the hospital in custody before he goes to the station."

"I want to take some of the glass from her head first before we transport. Are you hurt anywhere else?" Eddie wasn't moving her until he had removed as much glass from her wound as he could so there was less for the doctors to do once they took her to hospital.

Whimpering, (Y/n) leaned forward and silently indicated to her back. Her fingers dug into Evan's thigh and her head pressed onto Eddie's shoulder while Evan moved closer. He hummed quietly and moved his jacket back so he could gently lift (Y/n)'s shirt and look to see where she had been hurt.

"Skin's flush and warm, might have a bit of internal bleeding. Let's get the glass out and move her." Evan traced his fingertips over (Y/n)'s left hip, near to where her kidney would be. Her skin was discoloured and very warm, she could have internal bleeding but it didn't look too worrying. She could have a scan once they got to the hospital.

"Okay, this might hurt, try and stay still for me."

Evan's brows rose in surprise when (Y/n)'s hand let go of his thigh so she could clutch onto his hand instead. She reeled his hand into her chest and leaned against his bicep while her head tilted forward so Eddie could look at her head.

Every time her body shuddered and jolted, Evan squeezed her hand and rested his other hand on her knee to try and keep her calm. His lips curled in distaste when Eddie slowly started to pluck shards of glass from her hair with a pair of tweezers. He heard Eddie whisper 'don't move' but as soon as he relieved a large shard, blood trickled down (Y/n)'s forehead and she gurgled through a scream. Her body tremored against Evan and she jolted when Eddie poured a little saline over the wound to clean it and see if there were any more pieces he could remove.

They both counted ten various sized shards of glass that Eddie placed onto a cloth on his knee.

"Let's get you to hospital," Eddie dropped a little more saline onto the three various cuts on his sister's temple before he pressed a patch of gauze over them to try and stop the blood loss and hopefully soak up any smaller shards he hadn't managed to get.

"Up we go,"

The pair held one of (Y/n)'s arms each and slowly eased her up between them, gripping her hands tightly as she started to tremble again.

Adrenaline coursed through (Y/n)'s veins and she could feel her stomach churning and jolting when she was upright. Her feet could barely pick up from the floor, she dragged her feet, scraping them against the pavement as he knees bent and she let the boys guide her towards the truck. Practically dragging her between them.

(Y/n) groaned and suddenly doubled over, snapping her eyes closed as she leaned forward and threw up onto the floor. She felt like she needed to be sick again and get rid of whatever was still in her stomach but all she could do was cough and gasp for each breath as another round of tears started to fall.

Leaning down, Eddie looped his sister's arm around the back of his neck and gripped her waist tightly with his left arm so he could take her weight for her. He let Chimney and Hen climb into the truck first as the mugger was patched up and already in Athena's squad car.

Buck clambered up next and turned round to reach down for (Y/n). He gently but firmly gripped her forearms and hoisted her up the steps as Eddie held her waist and eased her up between them.

"Alright… let's put these on so you don't go deaf, hm?"

A small smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips when Evan eased her down into a chair and crouched between her thighs like he belonged there. He strapped her in and grabbed a headset, trying to get them over her ears without touching the top of her head. He slipped the band over the back of her head so it was nowhere near the cuts in the centre of her head and squished himself into the seat between (Y/n) and the window as Eddie sat on her left.

They didn't have the ambulance with them on this call out so it was a relief (Y/n) didn't have any nerve damage and that she could walk so they didn't have to radio for an extra ambulance. They could just take her to the hospital in the truck.

"Is this your sister?" Hen looked between (Y/n) and Eddie, already noticing the resemblance and the way Eddie gripped her thigh showed he cared deeply for her. But he couldn't find it in himself to smile when he nodded silently to her question. He didn't want them all to meet like this.

"Chris… I- I have to pick him up," (Y/n) slumped her head back onto Evan's shoulder so she could look up at Eddie.

She was supposed to collect Chris from school since Eddie was on shift today. She couldn't wait around in the emergency room to get checked out when she had to pick her nephew up. There wasn't enough time to find someone else to go and get him.

"I'll get him, don't think I'm leaving you alone like this."

"I could, you know, I could go get him. My shift's technically over, I can take (Y/n) home and get Chris later, you're still on shift." Evan ran his hands up and down his thighs as he looked between (Y/n) and Eddie, smiling at her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

He was done now, his shift ended after their last call. Instead of Eddie having to cancel his shift and both of them leaving the team short, Evan could look after them both for him. He would stay at the hospital with (Y/n) and take her home and collect Chris later. He loved spending time with both of them and (Y/n) shouldn't be alone right now.

"Are you sure? Is that alright?" Eddie looked from Evan down to his sister because he would stay with her if she asked him to. But her lips curved into a smile and she leaned further into Evan, nudging her nose against his neck while she closed her eyes.

She wanted to go to sleep. She didn't mind who stayed with her as long as she wasn't left alone at the hospital.

"We'll drop you both off here then Buck. Call when you need a lift back," Bobby turned to look in the back of the truck, nodding at them both. This was where they would part ways, at the paramedic entrance to the hospital. They could easily come and pick them up when they were ready since Evan was still in his uniform and his jeep was back at the station.

"Will do."

Eddie kissed his sister's temple, muttering a quiet 'love you' into her skin as his palm pressed into her lower back to help her get up.

Evan jumped down from the truck, leaving his helmet in the back along with his gloves while his jacket was still wrapped around (Y/n). He held his hands up towards her with a dopey grin that made (Y/n) really want to smile, if it weren't for the lightheaded feeling that overtook her.

She could barely feel her feet that skidded against the steps causing the team to gasp as Eddie bolted forward and Hen reached out to grab her arm. But they didn't have to worry when Evan jumped forward and grabbed her before she fell down.

An arm secured around her waist with his palm splayed out on her back and his other arm looped around her thighs just beneath her bum. Evan cocked a grin as he pulled back with (Y/n) in his arms.

"I gotcha." Evan lowered her down a little in his arms but kept hold of her and kept her feet from the floor. Walking in was going to prove long and stressful whereas Evan could just carry her inside to make things easier. "Let's go, sweetheart." He stepped back onto the curb, nodding at the team that he had her safe and sound and he bit back a smile when he felt (Y/n)'s arms loop around his neck and her face tucked into the crook of his neck.

"Thank you,"

***

(Y/n) smiled gratefully at the nurse and took the small white bag of antibiotics from her which she stuffed into her bag.

Two hours. It had taken two hours to get all the glass removed from her head, have one of the cuts glued shut from how deep it was, take a dose of morphine. And then go up for a scan to make sure she had no internal bleeding.

(Y/n) was ready to go home and she was thankful it had timed perfectly for her and Evan to go and collect Chris. Evan didn't have to leave her alone at the hospital to get Chris and then come back for her. He had stayed by her side like a bodyguard. Arms crossed over his chest and a stoic, protective look on his face.

He let (Y/n) dig her nails into his arm that she had already scratched earlier and he had kissed her temple when all the glass was removed.

"You're free to go."

"Thank you," (Y/n) nodded briefly at the nurse before she rummaged around in her bag. "Bobby still has my keys." Evan had given them to Bobby to show what she had attacked her assailant with. The keychain held her house keys and Eddie's keys for when she collected Chris while he was at work.

"I'll get them for you when we get back to the station, hopefully they will be cleaned up." It wouldn't be great to have her keys still caked in blood. Evan doubted that Athena would take the keys into evidence or take them to the hospital. The mugger had been patched up by the team, he only went to the hospital for any shots he might need and pain relief along with an all clear.

"I didn't wanna hurt him, I- I just-"

"Hey, he attacked you. He could have given you a bleed on the brain, you had every right to stab the bastard. Does it still hurt?"

Evan looked down at her head which looked pretty nasty from his height advantage point. She had a cut down the middle of her head that broke through her hairline into her forehead but it was more superficial than painful. The one that had been glued was now swelling up and would be bruised and tender in a few hours. (Y/n) wouldn't be able to wash her hair or touch her head for a week and she would be living with constant headaches for a while.

"A little, I feel… woozy." (Y/n) managed a smile as she gripped the edge of the bed she was sat on and pushed up to her feet.

The morphine took away most of the pain and sickness but now she felt drugged, wobbly and like her head weighed more than the rest of her body.

Her lips parted in a gasp when her feet bent awkwardly beneath her and her knees pushed forward into Evan's thighs. His hands reached out to grab her waist and he reeled her into his chest with ease, tilting his chin down so he could look at her through the height difference.

A smile wormed onto his face and his eyes creased at the corners as he smiled down at her with that dopey yet cocky grin that made (Y/n)'s stomach flutter.

"You keep falling for me today, huh?" His thumbs brushed up and down her exposed hips and his head tilted to the side as he stared at her wishfully.

"Seems so,"

(Y/n) kept her eyes level with his chest while she slowly dragged her fingertips up his biceps and along his shoulders until her thumbs could brush against his neck. She finally dared to lift her head up enough to meet his gaze that was piercing through her like there was a question burning in his mind that he was desperate to know the answer to.

"I guess I'd better get used to catching you then,"

The feeling of Evan's lips on hers made (Y/n) shiver and when she pushed up on her toes and swiped her thumb across his jaw, she felt his hands tighten around her hips. He pulled her chest flush against his and leaned down to catch her at a better angle.

His teeth bit her lower lip while his hand trailed up her side, gliding his fingertips across her skin to make her flush and squirm against him. He cupped her chin between his finger and thumb, nuzzling his nose into hers when they parted. (Y/n) could feel each breath he gasped against her lips and the moment she looked up into those ocean blue eyes, she felt her knees giving way.

If this was falling, (Y/n) never wanted to land.

#buck imagine #buck x reader #maddie buckley #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz x reader #bobby nash

[yuujispinkhair]

Sukuna gave up on love years ago. But somehow, your eyes and your smile are all he can think about. -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event. A sweet anon requested the song "Lovebug" by the Jonas Brothers.

Pairing: Modern!CEO Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff Word Count: 700 Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Sukuna and Reader meet as business partners, and feelings spark between them. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact.

God, it's ridiculous!

Sukuna slams his vodka glass down on his desk, laughing and shaking his head. He isn't a sentimental person. He isn't one of those fools who let their emotions get the better of them. He knows love is more trouble than anything else, and he isn't chasing it anymore. He decided years ago to stop doing that. No, Sukuna hasn't been looking for love for a long time.

And yet, all it took was one business phone call followed by an afternoon and a dinner spent with you, and now he can't stop this weird feeling from spreading through his chest. He sees your smile even when he closes his eyes. He still smells your perfume even though it can't linger on his skin after such a short moment of holding your hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

It is highly ridiculous. And irresponsible. And foolish.

He swore off love. Swore off everything that could tear down his walls. And he is good at this, brilliant even. No one can see beneath Itadori Sukuna's mask of arrogance and indifference!

And yet your eyes looked at him with that knowing look. As if you could see right through him. As if you knew.

You treated him differently than the others. Your eyes didn't stray to his expensive watch or his car keys. You didn't order the most expensive meal off the menu when he said he would pay. You didn't act mysterious or slutty or any of those other things the others did, who were always so calculating, so desperately trying to fit into the image of the perfect doll, not realizing that it only made them seem fake.

There is nothing fake about you. You didn't hold back your laughter during dinner. You didn't worry about smearing your lipstick while eating. Your makeup was light, and the eyeliner applied a bit crookedly. It made his heart do a flip somehow. You didn't shy away from sharing a huge dessert with him, smiling and rolling your eyes in pleasure at how delicious it tasted. He had chuckled in genuine amusement and joy when you pushed a spoonful of ice cream towards him, telling him he simply had to try it.

So light. That's it. He feels so light when he is around you. It's as if all the small and big stresses of his busy CEO life just vanished into thin air, and instead, the sun is shining on him, and he can breathe in clear, fresh air.

He catches himself smiling as he thinks of how you snorted with laughter about one of his dry comments. Usually, none of those women laugh about his humor. And it's not just that you think he is funny. You replied with the same humor, making him laugh too.

He sighs and turns off his computer. It's late at night. Time to go home and get some rest. But not before he grabs his phone and types a quick message to you, thanking you for the lovely evening and wishing you a good night. He only hesitates for a small moment before he adds, "I would like to see you again. I know a place with even better dessert variations for two."

He is surprised by the smile he spots on his face in the mirrored walls of the elevator when he receives your reply, telling him that you would love to share a dessert with him again.

A catchy love song starts playing on his drive home. The type of song that Sukuna usually finds annoying and which would lead to him changing the radio station. But not tonight. Tonight, he lets it play, and maybe he hums a bit in tune with the melody. Maybe he feels a little fluttery sensation when hearing the lyrics about freshly found love.

Maybe all he can think of are your eyes and your smile and how good it felt to sit there with you and talk and laugh and not even realize how many hours had already slipped by, so caught up in his conversation with you. So caught up in your eyes.

He isn't someone who catches feelings easily. He thought for a long time that he had managed to become immune to all of this.

But does a man who is immune to falling in love hum along to a stupid catchy lovesong? Does a man who gave up on love smile to himself while he pictures your laugh?

Maybe the lovebug bit him after all. And maybe he is glad it did

Thank you so much for participating in my event! I hope you enjoyed this little story!! I am swooning so much thinking about spending a flirty business dinner with CEO Sukuna aww!!

Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you

[arabellasleopardcoat]

You wouldn’t believe the things I have done for her (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Daemon lives a dangerous life. You wish you could find a way to protect him, but you are too afraid of guns. Lucky you, Daemon has a plan.

A/N: Do not try this at home. Requested by the lovely @avalyaaa I am sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to give your request the attention it deserved.

Warnings: Smut. Mafia! Daemon. Gun kink. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH: GUN KINK. Slight degradation.

You sit quietly in the back of the car. In the front seat sits Harwin, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He is bored. You can tell by the way he keeps fiddling with things. Changing the radio station, messing with the AC.

Harwin probably misses his old work. It’s not like Daemon needs a bodyguard or a driver. You know it’s more for your protection than his. And while Harwin is no stranger to guarding people who don’t need his protection, you bet the fact that Rhaenyra was fucking him made the prospect much more agreeable.

The AC gets turned off again. You would scold him for it, were it not for the fact you are deadly bored yourself. Daemon’s quick meeting has turned into an hour long one, and you have been instructed to not step out of the car. The only entertainment you have is your phone, and you can only scroll through so many TikToks before wanting to claw your own eyes out.

Instead of continuing to refresh your For you page, you turn your attention back to obsessing over your conversation with Daemon. The shame from your stupidity makes your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t trust them.” Daemon had said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He often avoided kissing you in the lips whenever you were close to his associates. As if not kissing you could trick them into thinking you were not relevant and convince them not to target you. “They are…. Not the most respectful with women.”

“You don’t trust me, you mean. To handle myself.” And by the Seven, it had even sounded bratty to your ears. You had not meant it like that at all. You had only wanted him to stop using that shitty excuse.

There were women who attended these meetings. You knew it. Hell, you had even met them. And these weren’t sex workers or strippers. These were women who held high positions in the organization. Rhaenyra, who was going to inherit it one day. Mysaria, who ran an informant network. Even Alicent pitched in from time to time. You were tired of being lied to. Sometimes, you craved the more normal boyfriend experience.

“I trust you. I don’t trust them.” Daemon had chuckled at your pout, and given you a pat in the head. “Behave.”

It had felt so dismissive. So humiliating. As if you were a child and not an actual grown woman. You hated arguing with Daemon. There was something about his tone, or his attitude, you were not sure which, that made him sound forever condescending.

You supposed inherited wealth was like that. The Targaryens had been running their schemes for nearly six generations by now. They were royalty by modern standards, even when you didn’t know about their more shady dealings.

It was no use, being upset over it. Daemon was too set in his ways to change. You needed to find a way around your problem, instead of charging right into it. But nothing comes to you at this moment, so you unlock your phone and continue your scrolling.

You save a few recipes you want to try, and like some pet videos. You are thinking of asking Daemon to adopt a puppy. A small breed would suit your apartment better, but you know Daemon. He will probably want the most intimidating dog he can get his hands on. A big, scary doberman could be something you could get behind. You had been feeling unsafe as of late.

A sudden, loud noise makes you jerk on your seat. You start to ask Harwin what’s wrong, but you don’t manage to even form the words. It's happening too fast.

“Get on your knees and do not get up until I say!” Harwin shouts. You do not need further explanations, understanding something is really wrong. You fall into the floor of the car with such haste that your phone is sent flying under the seat.

“…. Whisk the butter and the sugar…” You try to reach for it, but the space is too cramped, and suddenly the car is moving, throwing the phone around. Your knees throb from dropping yourself from the seat too hard, and you try to focus on that and not the way your heart feels like it’s in your throat. A gunshot, you realize. A gunshot. You should be used to them by now, but you still feel afraid.

Harwin drives fast and efficiently. It’s two full blocks before he orders you to get up again. You do so, legs shaking. There is a wet feeling on your knee. Blood. You had scrapped it when you threw yourself on the ground.

“What happened?” You ask him, smoothing your clothes down. Now that your panic isn’t as intense, you feel a pang of guilt. Daemon. Seven Hells, you had left him back there. “Daemon?”

Despite knowing that Harwin’s orders are first and foremost getting you out of danger, you can’t help but feel guilty. You had not even thought to worry about him. He is probably fine, considering the place was filled with Targaryens. He is also more than capable of handling himself. But to be so blinded by your fear that you did not even think of him…

“I got no fucking clue.” He asks, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I’ll call Daemon, alright?”

“Yeah.” You say, quietly. You grab the seat’s edge and squeeze, as if you could will Daemon to your side by frustration alone. Harwin dials.

“Yeah, we are fine.” Harwin says, smiling at you through the mirror. You know he wouldn’t be so casual if something bad had happened, and so, you give him a thumbs up. Your guilt eases a bit, being replaced by relief. “She is fine, just a bit shaken up.” And he rolls his eyes because Daemon can be a bit overbearing.

“Just trouble with an errand guy.” Harwin explains, once the call is over. “He should be here soon.”

But despite how casual they made it sound, you couldn’t shake the fear and guilt away. It stayed on your mind, nestled like a worm, curling around your brain and threatening to choke it. When the night comes, and Daemon sleeps peacefully by your side, you still think of it. Of how you could die, and he could too. And there wouldn’t be a thing to be done.

You sit up on your side of the bed, letting the sheet pool around your waist. You hug your knees to your chest. The night is chilly, and the blackout curtains Daemon insists on having to ensure the room is pitch black. It only serves to disquiet you further.

There is a gun on Daemon’s nightstand. Should there be one in yours? His work is dangerous enough to warrant it. Enough to warrant you having a bodyguard, why not a weapon of your own?

You weren’t going to let him die. Nor were you going to leave him behind, like today. This was the twenty-first century, not the Middle Ages. You were tired of cowering back and acting the damsel in distress. If someone is going to try to hurt the man you love, you sure will fight back.

Daemon was yours. As much as you were his, and so, it wasn’t fair that only he protected you. You needed to be able to have his back, or at least, not be a distraction in a fight.

Your decision is not just something you can communicate to Daemon, though. He is not going to like it. You know him. Daemon is a bit old-fashioned like that. He likes gender roles a little too much for it. He is your protector and provider, and you are supposed to just be sweet and warm. The thought of you using a gun will probably cause him a heart attack.

And the thing is, Daemon doesn’t just style himself your protector. He does an outstanding job of it. He has managed to keep you away from the nastier side of his business. Never have you seen a dead body, or any of his associates beyond his family. So if you hope to achieve this, you need to be smart about it.

You decide you will tell him first thing in the morning when he is barely awake. He will be more susceptible that way. And happy with your plan, you finally manage to catch a few hours of sleep.

The next morning, you get started making breakfast with only one thing in mind. Convincing Daemon. You are barefoot, wearing only one of his shirts. It’s basic manipulation, and he will probably able to tell, but you hope it will soften him to your cause.

It’s when you are scrambling the eggs that he emerges, lured by the smell of fried bacon and a fresh pot of tea. Daemon wraps himself around you, still warm with sleep.

“Morning, love.” His voice is still a bit hoarse with sleep. He nuzzles your neck and hums, pleased. “Couldn’t I convince you to come back to bed?”

You laugh.

“Not really. The eggs are almost done.” You take the pan off the stove, letting it cool. “I would like to learn how to shoot.”

Daemon stiffens. You can feel him pull back from you. It’s not a physical thing, his arms remain wrapped around your waist, but his voice becomes colder and meaner. He is fully awake now.

“And why, in the Seven Hells, would you need to learn?”

“To feel safer.” You answer, keeping your tone steady.

“Do you not feel safe already? I could hire you another bodyguard.” Daemon hugs you slightly tighter. You lean into the counter a little bit, and sigh. Then, you detangle yourself from him.

“I don’t want a bodyguard. I need to learn how to shoot.” You state again, calmly. You turn to look at him. He looks more annoyed than angry.

“Sweetheart. You know that is not the best idea.” Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Why not?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“You are sensitive. You cry when animals die in movies.” He complains, stepping a bit closer to you. Daemon pours you a cup of tea and plates the eggs. “Go sit. I’ll wrap this up.”

You give him a sullen look but obey, watching him cut and toast the bread just in the way you like. You sit by the kitchen’s island, watching him work. Daemon is only wearing his underwear. You don’t think he owns something that resembles pajamas. Targaryens always run hot, or so they say.

Disappointing yourself, you let yourself be distracted by the view. You watch the muscles on his back shift and move as he finishes breakfast for you. You are mesmerized by the elegance of his every movement.

He is delicious, you think to yourself. You want to climb him like a tree. Despite the slight age difference, Daemon is more handsome than other men you have met. He is a bit vain, sure, but his efforts are worth it.

It’s only after he sits next to you that you remember what you were doing. You blame it on the lack of sleep.

“So?”

“You are my woman. It’s my duty to protect you. I’ll keep you safe.” Daemon rubs your shoulders, comfortingly. His voice sounds apologetic, a denial despite the soft tone he is using. “You know I keep you well away from danger.”

And he does. Not only Harwin and him have talked protocols, but Daemon has also ensured you would be protected even in the event of his death or imprisonment. You have numerous properties to your name, a few fake passports and three hidden bank accounts in different tax havens. None of which would be taken away if the two of you break up, Daemon has clearly stated. He loves you enough to want you to be protected even if you don’t love him anymore.

“I don’t like being powerless.”

“I seem to remember you do.” He squeezes your thigh, playfully. Your breath shifts despite yourself. You cover it by taking a sip of your tea and leveling a faux glare at him.

“I know.” Daemon kisses your nose. “I like that you don’t know how to shoot. That you are clean from this world.”

“It won’t sully me.” You argue because it’s a silly thing to think. It’s not like you are going to start shooting people or running illegal gambling rings. You just want to be able to defend yourself if something happens. And perhaps Daemon. If he doesn't feel too emasculated, this ridiculous man of yours.

“If I wanted a woman who knew how to shoot I would still be with Rhaenyra.” He complains.

“Plenty of women know how. I am not…” You rub at your eyes, tiredly. You want him to understand nothing is going to change between the two of you. “I do not want to go to your stupid meetings or meet your associates for dinner. I just want to know how to defend myself if something happens.”

“And I am saying you don’t need to because nothing is going to happen.” Daemon’s voice turns firmer. Now you can tell he is beginning to get angry, so you reach for his hand and squeeze.

“But if it does? If one night we wake up and there is a gun to our faces? Then what? Do I just let you die for me?” You allow your voice to break in the last part, letting him truly see your anguish. It is a fear of you that has lived on too long. You need this. You need to be able to defend both of you if something happens.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

It gets you to the firing range. Daemon takes you there in the middle of the week, hoping to inconvenience the least amount of people with him booking the entire place.

Your first impression of it is that it’s nothing like in the movies. There are neat little booths with circular targets instead of human shaped ones. You had expected only utilitarian decoration, harsh white lighting and white walls. Instead, the place looks well maintained and expensive. You should have expected so, considering this is Daemon you are talking about.

“Your first lesson…” Daemon says, eyeing you distrustfully. You stare right back at him. “Will be on safety.”

He takes two bulletproof vests out of a hanger, as well two pairs of earmuffs.

“These are protection gear, meant to be used each time you are practicing. And hopefully…” Daemon passes the bulletproof vest over your head. You let him do so, lifting your arms when he instructs you. The vest is heavier than you expect, and more solid too. It feels like what you wear when you are getting an x-ray. “You will use the vest too if you ever fire a gun outside here.”

“And not the earmuffs?”

“You should wear them to protect your ears, especially if you are firing many rounds. But you never see people wearing these because they are heavy-duty protection. In a real fight, you wouldn’t be able to hear your surroundings. Gunshots are pretty loud. So are gunfights.”

“Is that why you are losing your hearing?” You sass, with a grin. “I thought it was just your old age.”

“Oh, shut up. Little brat.” Daemon smacks your ass, playful. It doesn’t even hurt, but you jump and squeal in faux outrage. He laughs at your antics, and it does make you feel better about forcing him to teach you this.

“Should we do the whole…?” You gesture vaguely, trying to reference the classical movie or book montage where the female lead and the love interest stand very close, under the excuse to fix her posture. Daemon shakes his head.

“What is even that?” You would call him an old man for missing your reference, but you know he is sensitive about his age. Besides, you are not a great mime either. “No. You are going to stand with your legs and shoulders the same width apart and a proper posture. No slouching!”

“You know, not all of us grew up with a tutor chasing us and screaming for proper posture.” You grumble, but comply with his orders.

“Perhaps if you had, you wouldn’t need all those Pilates and Yoga classes you so enjoy.” Daemon argues right back. He circles you and pushes a bit at your hips. You try to loosen them. “Perhaps my cards would not explode then.”

“Shut up. It’s not like you don’t reap the benefits.”

Your good humor disappears when Daemon places a gun on the counter in front of you. You go quiet, suddenly unsure of your choice. He shows you how to charge it and how to put the safety on and off. You pay him all of your attention, feeling a bit numb. Most of the details about it fly over your head, despite your attempts to memorize them.

“Alright. I think you are ready for your first try.” Daemon says, handing you the gun. You grab it with trembling hands. You adjust your stance and ensure the muzzle is pointing down, and that you are not gesturing wildly with it. He puts your earmuffs on, and then his.

The world around you feels muffled. You swear you can hear your heartbeat, with how silent everything is. The gun in your hands is throwing you off. It looks odd. These can’t be your hands. You feel like you are not actually there, but watching the scene unfold from outside, watching someone else about to shoot.

Daemon adjusts your grip with his hands, casual about his proximity to the loaded weapon. You stiffen as soon as you feel him approach you, worried about accidentally shooting him.

“Come on.” He mouths, impatiently. You lift the gun, take the safety off, and aim. You pull the trigger, and it is with an awful noise and jerk, that you fire for the first time. The shot goes wide, hitting the wall next to the target.

Daemon taps your shoulder and gestures for you to go again. He watches your every move. His expression betrays nothing. If you are going at it the wrong way, you wouldn't be able to tell.

You repeat the motion, flinching at the noise. Even with the earmuffs it’s loud. It reminds you of that day in the alley, and makes your stomach clench. Daemon signals for you to put the gun down, and you do so, glad that it’s over. You can’t believe you thought you could actually do this. You feel so stupid. He was right, you are too soft.

Daemon can probably tell you are getting too in your head. He removes your earmuffs and pulls you in for a hug. The vests make it awkward, but you feel comforted by his solidness next to you.

“You did great, sweetheart.” He lies, and kisses your temple. You feel so disappointed you could cry. A laugh bubbles out of you, a bit hysterical.

Daemon tsks. He reaches for the gun and deftly discharges it.

“Come on.” He says, kissing your cheek. “I know what your problem is.”

“Yeah?” You ask him, a bit doubtful. You don’t want to feel any sort of hope, just in case that he is mistaken. Giving up so easily might be childish, yet you had not expected this to be so hard. After all, like half the people that Daemon knew could do it.

“You have to learn to love the gun.” He places it back on your hand and steps up behind you. It seems like you are doing the movie thing after all. He kicks your legs a bit, encouraging you to shift your stance.

“Love the gun?”

“You keep looking at it like it’s a weapon of mass destruction.” Daemon laughs, and mouths along your nape. You shiver. It’s an almost Pavlovian reaction by now. When Daemon’s voice gets all low and husky, and he holds you like that, your body knows it’s time for sex. It’s very inappropriate. But conditioned as you are, you can’t stop the throb of arousal between your thighs. “Stop looking like you are horrified by it.”

He fixes your grip around the gun. He steadies your hand.

“Shoot.”

You obey, pulling the trigger. The gun clicks, but nothing happens. It’s unloaded.

“Good.” Daemon says, and lightly bites your shoulder. “Again.”

You repeat the motion. He has you do it over and over again, until you no longer flinch when pulling the trigger. When you are fully desensitized to the sound, Daemon takes the gun from you.

“Great job.” He says, placing the gun right on your face. “Now kiss it.”

“Excuse me?” You stare at Daemon, sure that he must be joking. Kissing the gun? No way. But one look at his face, at the amused curve of his lips, and the mischievous glint in his eyes, tell you that he is serious.

“You heard me.” Daemon chuckles, a bit darkly. You understand then that this is both for his amusement and a punishment. He gets off on humiliating others, that you know. And he had not liked that you had forced him into giving you shooting lessons. He now intends to bring you down a few pegs. “Kiss the barrel.”

You scrunch up your face. You got your pride, too. Despite knowing that submitting to his whims is easy and will probably pacify him for a while, you can’t help but resist. Your whole body rebels at the idea of accepting such an obvious power play.

“Come on, don’t be like that. You owe me.” Daemon tilts your head up, placing a finger under your chin. He makes a show of cooing over your pout, before leaning in to kiss you.

“I don’t!” You move your head away, denying him. It’s a bit cruel, and it makes him frown, which you consider a win.

“You so do. I didn’t want to teach you, you know. At least give me good jerk off material.” He pouts at you, and you can’t help but smile a little. He is ridiculous.

It is part of why you love him. Daemon is young in spirit, if not in body, and he makes you feel younger too. Giddy and willing to do silly things. Silly things like leaning in and kissing the barrel of a gun.

The metal is cold under your lips, hard and unyielding. Daemon makes a pleased noise and pulls you in for a kiss. You can feel him smile against your mouth, before trying to deepen it. Playfully, you nip at him, until it is him who yields and opens up for you.

It is then that he presses the cold barrel against your nape. The feeling of the gun against your skin makes you tense and jerk, giving him once again the upper hand. With the control of the kiss back in his hands, he pulls you closer.

You feel yourself slowly starting to become aroused. One of Daemon’s hands finds your hip, squeezing the flesh there. His gesture is both possessive and greedy. Something swoops in your belly, dark and demanding. You want all his attention on you, you want him all for you.

Making out with Daemon is a full-bodied experience. It shouldn’t surprise you, then, that he starts to gently run the muzzle of the gun down your neck. At first, you don’t notice, too caught up on how close both of you are. Your chest is flush against his, and the feeling of his body against yours makes you whimper, before you realize what game is he playing.

“Daemon.” You warn, annoyed. He gives you a shit eating grin.

“I am just getting the two of you better acquainted. My best girls.” Daemon leans in and kisses behind your ear. He takes his time, making out with the shell of it. He is cautious to do all the right things to make you tremble against him. Yet, you can’t seem to forget about the gun, running down your sternum, between your breasts.

The muzzle gets caught against your clothes. Daemon uses it to push one of the sleeves of your top a little aside, to be able to lavish the skin there with kisses. You only feel the metal against your skin for a second, but it makes you think about how it would feel against your naked skin. Would the cold make your hairs stand up on edge, and your nipples pebble? Or would it warm up to your temperature?

The thought makes your breath hitch, and your panties even wetter.

“There is no one here.” You say, quietly. “If you were to take off my shirt…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Daemon grins, encouraging you to lean against the counter of the firing range. “You devious little thing.”

He drops to his knees in front of you, carefully taking your clothing off. You watch him move between your legs, helping you widen your stance. Daemon kisses a path from your ankles towards your knees, mouthing along as if having the finest of banquets. His kisses feel scorching against your skin, and you can’t help but jut your hips slightly, trying to command him into touching you.

Daemon smiles at you, cheekily. He then bites your inner thighs, scratching just enough to make you arch in pleasure-pain. When you are just about to hike one of your legs over his shoulder, he sucks your clit inside his mouth, and it’s then that you feel it. The cold barrel of the gun, pressing along your inner thighs.

You moan. Daemon laughs.

“You little whore.” It sounds fond. He eats you out without any finesse, slurping noisily. The thought of anyone else being able to overhear this makes you embarrassed, so you try to keep quiet. Your eyes close, hands squeezing around the edge of the counter.

Daemon is not trying to bring you any pleasure. His movements and touches are too methodical for it. He presses a finger inside your hole, then another. Then it is scissoring them and shushing you with soft licks to your clit when you complain at the slight sting.

Any pleasure you get out of it is incidental. Instead, Daemon is getting you ready for something. And this time, you know it’s not his cock. The thought fills you with dread and arousement in equal parts. How will it feel? Metal doesn’t give the same way flesh does. But the thought of having a gun, Daemon's, inside you, makes your hips jerk.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” He pulls away, reappearing from between your legs. “Fuck. I don’t know if I want to see your face or your greedy little hole when I put it inside.”

You look at him. His hair is sticking up in all directions, but his smile is absolutely ferocious.

“My face. Just in case…” You reach for his shoulder and squeeze, gently. Despite how arousing you think the whole thing is, you are still hesitant. Sometimes, things don’t feel as you imagine they would. You don’t want this to be disappointing.

Daemon seems to understand, despite the fact that you don’t verbalize it.

“I’ll talk you through it.” He says, kindly. He then spreads your folds a little and presses the tip of the gun against your hole.

You yelp. Your grip on his shoulder turns punishing. It feels pleasant, as penetration often does, but there is a foreign quality to it as well. The gun is wide, and metal doesn’t give as flesh does. You feel as if you are rooted tp the spot by it, being impaled with each inch Daemon presses inside you.

“You are doing so well. Good girl. My little girl.” He presses a kiss to your stomach. He keeps rubbing at your clit until you relax around the barrel. It’s only then that he attempts to fuck you with it. You clench at his shoulders, overwhelmed, and moan.

It’s confusing. The ridges of it feel good, catching against your hole. The metal slowly starts to warm up, not feeling as strange as before. Daemon keeps steadily sucking your clit.

The pleasure builds. So does your need. You start to move your hips along with his thrusting, trying your best to reach your orgasm. So of course, Daemon pulls away from your clit.

“You are taking it so well.” Daemon praises, voice husky with desire. “Your pussy swallows the gun right up.”

You moan, almost without realizing. You are so close it itches. But moving your hips up and down isn’t enough. You need more.

“Daemon, please.” You beg, near tears. Never before have you been this frustrated.

“Who would have known? You are such a hungry little whore.” Daemon smirks. The crudeness of his words makes you gasp. You feel smaller than you have ever felt, yet somehow, it makes you feel deliciously dirty. He is not wrong. It’s embarrassing, how you are humping the gun he holds, but you can’t stop. “You don’t think, you are so desperate you would fuck anything. Do anything, just to fill your greedy holes.”

“Please. Fuck.” You sob. Daemon licks his thumb and starts rubbing your poor, abused clit. He keeps fucking you with the gun, building you up and up, towards the orgasm you so desperately crave. You come with a scream so loud, you thank he has booked the whole place for only yourselves.

Turns out, you don’t hate guns as much as you thought.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x reader #daemon x you #prince daemon x reader #daemon x y/n #daemon targaryen smut #daemon smut #daemon fanfic #hotd fanfic #cristi's bingo #daemon targaryen #daemon x oc #daemon targayen #daemon targaryen fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #asoiaf fanfic #hotd fic #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x fem oc #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen x oc

[weebsinstash]

Now don't get me wrong, I like how... calm and unbothered Alastor is, or at least tries to pass himself off as being

but like.... we know he's a drinker.... and we know certain details about him having an alcoholic abusive father who was cruel to his mother which heavily influenced his whole Dexter serial killer morality bs... and I can't help but think of a fic idea where Reader and Alastor are together and, suddenly without warning you break up with him BECAUSE YOU CHEATED ON HIM. you're like, legitimately heartbroken and missing him but you broke up for a good reason and, time passes and you dont see or hear from him, you're basically just going on with your life, and, MEANWHILE HE'S JUST SLOWLY DEVOLVING IN A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOW MEOW

His radio show comes on and he's SLURRING and people are aghast. Alastor is usually such a classy gentleman, so careful with his image??? Meanwhile he's in his radio station with several glasses of whiskey and staring at a wall lined with your photos while he's broadcasting, "ohhhh hEeeEy LiSteNers!! How-how are you all doing this.... 😡LOVELY😤 evening. Isnt..... isn't it... so nice to... spend time with loved ones when you need them? 🥴 WELL I WOULDNT KNOW HA HAH HA" *cue 30 straight uninterrupted seconds of unhinged laughing from a man clearly having an emotional crisis* "so on tonightsssshow I was-i wasszzz hoping to-to discussss-"

Like imagine tuning into his show after avoiding it because it broke your heart and it turns from him like, having an actual topic and planned structure of his show, to then, one day you overhear a broadcast and he's just occasionally slurring, saying really really vague shit about how "real men are supposed to be strong enough to protect and hold onto those they hold dear" and you can occasionally hear the THUNK of his whiskey glass hitting the table meaning he's already drunk but still drinking WHILE broadcasting and, oh honey you already sound so wasted you don't need more--

You guys don't understand. I want this man having a very PUBLIC very MESSY mental breakdown because he was CRAZY IN LOVE WITH YOU and you sat him down and told him you love him deeply but you need sex and you've cheated on him REPEATEDLY and EVEN THEN he was HARDCORE COPING, "w well as long as you promise it won't happen again-" "I cant and i won't. I love you but i cant repress this part of myself" LIKE YOU DECIMATE THIS MAN. Alastor's just beside himself because like, not without valid feelings but you're basically dumping him to fuck strangers. Like. I just. What if he literally had a ring box or was starting to realize he's demisexual on the ace spectrum and was starting to have Those Feelings for you and you're just. Breaking up with him, and all he hears is "sorry but having these disgusting men I don't even know hunch over on me grunting like disgusting animals and defiling me who is definitely way too good for them is way better than being with you my respectful funny classy charming totally-not-husband"

I want you to be walking down the streets of Hell and Vox suddenly comes on their equivalent of a jumbotron and he's visibly beside himself with excitement, "BREAKING NEWS, THE RADIO DEMON IS PISS DRUNK IN THE GUTTER LIKE A FUCKING LOSER, MORE NEWS ON THE SCENE" and it just snap cuts to him facedown in the street somewhere. Have you ever seen Intervention. You can have grown ass adults with successful careers and loving communities and when they find something that breaks them you'll be seeing shit like, children finding their mothers literally passed out in the yard because they were too drunk to get into the house or even WALK properly. So. You just. See him in this legitimately pathetic absolutely humiliating state and you can't help but feel that that's YOUR fault, meanwhile Vox is living his best fucking life, GOD FORBID VOX SEES YOU STANDING THERE CRYING ON THE SIDEWALK, he's then broadcasting your crying face all over Hell, "Hey Alastor even your EX is CRYING AT HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE, GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY LEFT YOU HUH" and like. The live feed of Alastor shows him just, struggling to even lift his head to look up to, wherever, and see your image there, looking absolutely devastated, looking at him with pity and heartbreak. oh, his sweet beloved, looking so distressed because you see him so weak...

Vox is just living it up mocking both of you but he's made several enormous mistakes by putting you on the air, especially looking like THAT, especially with Alastor in this mental state, and ESPECIALLY to mock you when you're already looking so broken. The feed cuts. All the TVs read "LOST SIGNAL" and nothing comes back on the news for the rest of the night. Less than a week later, the radios are on again, and Alastor sounds... completely back to normal? Chipper, even? And at first you're happy to hear he's all good and well, but, there's something about some of the things he's saying that are making you a little.... nervous?

"You know folks, it took me an EMBARRASSINGLY long while to realize that, a true traditional man puts the needs of others above himself, and especially the needs of his special somebody! One can't truly care for one's loved one properly if you're too boggled down with, FEELING SORRY for yourself right? How else are you going to... defend what's yours if you just lie down and take it?"

"So while I was off the air, good listeners, I was doing quite a bit of, spring cleaning, let's call it! Yes, I was... unfortunately very busy, having to wrangle up quite a few.... disgusting, insignificant, dirty, thieving PERVERTS!!!! ....but now that that's all good and done with, I'd certainly like to think these streets are a little more... respectable!"

"To end the broadcast tonight, a final word to all my fellow men out there. If you happen to discover that, for whatever reason, your beloved has run off with another? It was because you deserved it for being WEAK. You allowed another man to just, COME IN and... DESECRATE what is precious to you? Disgraceful. Pathetic. Ill-mannered. You cannot call yourself a worthy partner if you simply allow your beloved to waltz themselves into the mouth of danger, can you? So, a little piece of advice from your humble host here tonight: Take back what is yours. Take them back, do not let them go, and do not let anyone EVER soil your love ever again. ........Also hey! Don't forget that the annual Cannibal District Cook-Out is this coming weekend so be sure to--"

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

[princeloww]

DAVID TENNANT ROLES STARTERPACK

(Different roles, where to find them and what they're like!!!) (+ more that I didn't go into included at the end)

*disclaimer: this is sort of UK orientated, 'cos I don't know any American streaming services or where stuff is available in other countries, so PLEASE comment other places you can watch things!!!!

- Takin' Over the Asylum (CAMPBELL BAIN)

Follows a DJ and a group of patients trying to keep a radio station going in a mental hospital. David plays one of the main characters, Campbell Bain, a mostly upbeat and energetic young boy with lots of enthusiasm and spirit. Some angst!

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Blackpool (PETER CARLISLE)

A body is found in an arcade run by Ripley Holden, and him and his entire family are pulled into the murder investigation surrounding it. DI Peter Carlisle is working on the case, and highly suspicious of Ripley. He's a pretty major character and has a romantic plot - as well as a few funny musical numbers. Includes sex scenes.

☆ UKTV PLAY (free in UK), AMAZON PRIME VIDEO

- Casanova (GIACOMO CASANOVA)

The (mostly sexual) adventures of Giacomo Casanova, a charming and fraudulent man who falls in love very quickly and very dramatically with a lot of people, all while essentially bullshitting through life and jumping on every opportunity to make money. Includes sex scenes but also angst, such as illness, injuries, some violence, and general suffering.

☆ MYFLIXERX.TO (free), AMAZON

- Recovery (ALAN HAMILTON)

A man and his family coping with the recovery and rehabilitation process after he (Alan, David Tennant) suffers from brain damage. Angsty. Lots of crying, suicide references, head injury stuff.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (BARTY CROUCH JR)

I recommend pirating this one so you're not supporting JK Rowling. DT plays Barty Crouch JR, an antagonist and the son of Barty Crouch. He's kind of a minor character, as he's not actually in a lot of scenes.

☆ Probably on most pirating sites (my go to is MYFLIXERX.TO)

- Learners (CHRISTOPHER ??)

Lighthearted movie about a woman trying to pass her driving test. David plays Chris, her driving instructor. He's a bit of a dork, very sweet and kind. Has a love plot, briefly fights a guy. No major angst.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Hamlet (HAMLET)

Hamlet. Prince of Denmark wants vengeance after his father's death. I haven't actually watched this one yet but I assume it's got the same amount of angst and drama as Hamlet typically does.

☆ AMAZON PRIME VIDEO

- Single Father (DAVE TYLER)

After a fatal car accident, Dave Tyler (DT) is left to parent four children on his own. Still struggling through grief, Dave falls in love again and attempts to hide it. Has LOTS of crying, lots of kissing, sex scenes, DT being miserable and sobbing, etc.

☆ MYFLIXERX.TO (free)

- Rex Is Not Your Lawyer (REX ALEXANDER)

Unaired pilot. Only 40 minutes. Show wasn't picked up, but it is very good. Rex is a successful and skilled lawyer who is forced to stop practising when he starts having panic attacks every time he speaks in court. He decides instead to coach people who want to represent themselves. Lots of DT in very tight suits. American accent. Not MAJOR angst but he does has daddy issues and a panic disorder, so.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Fright Night (PETER VINCENT)

A kid discovers that his neighbour is a vampire, and he seeks out a famous vampire slayer to help him. Peter Vincent (DT) does not live up to his name, and turns out to actually be sort of pathetic. No major angst, not a lot of clothes, no romance, but lots of eyeliner. He's very bisexual. Violence, vampire horror, creepy neighbour.

☆ DISNEY+, AMAZON PRIME

- The Decoy Bride (JAMES ARBER)

Celebrity Lara Tyler tries to get married to her author fiancé James Arber, but the paparazzi interrupts the wedding. Desperate to keep it private, she takes James to the island that he based his book on. Somehow, the paparazzi still find them, and they hire a decoy bride to pretend to be Lara. Romance, kissing, light hearted, minimal angst. David in a funny outfit. Fake dating trope?

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger (Donald and Roderick Peterson)

Sequel to Nativity, but you don't need to watch the first one. Primary school teacher Donald Peterson (DT) is forced to take his class to Wales to participate in A Song For Christmas, a festive singing competition. Here he is put against his twin brother, who is a successful composer and with whom he has a strained relationship. Light angst - lots of daddy issues, but generally sweet.

☆ AMAZON, I think its on NOW TV???

- The Escape Artist (WILL BURTON)

A defence lawyer, Will Burton, gets a murderer off free, and very quickly grows to regret it, when his client comes after his family next. Lots of murder. Like three murders I think. Hot lawyer DT.

☆ AMAZON (I can't believe I forgot this one)

- What We Did On Our Holiday (DOUG MCLEOD)

A family go to Scotland for their grandfather's 70th birthday. Doug (DT) and his wife (Rosamund Pike) are getting a divorce, but are hiding it from the rest of the family. Movie is mostly focused on the kids and their grandad, but David has a few moments, and he's generally present throughout. Funny, slightly shocking at times, family film. No major angst. Character death.

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Richard II (RICHARD II)

Shakespeare's Richard II. David plays the titular character, the extravagant, heartless and cold King of England, Richard II. We see his fall from grace as he is stripped of everything he owns and knows. Quite angsty. Long hair, androgynous David. Queer kiss scene (although they are cousins, soo...)

☆ you can find a link in a REDDIT comment if you search for it, AMAZON PRIME

- Broadchurch (ALEC HARDY)

An eleven-year-old boy is murdered in a small town, sending shock-waves through the community. Story follows both the family and communities response to the crime, as well as the investigation done by DI Alec Hardy (DT) and DS Ellie Miller (Olivia Coleman). Lots of angst from Alec. He is sick and hiding it. Injury, dizziness, panic attacks, that sort of thing - as well as a heart attack. He has a lot of trauma and daddy issues. Season three touches on topics of rape (warning).

- Mad To Be Normal (RD LIANG)

Biopic about RD Liang, a Scottish psychiatrist. Sex, misogyny, mental health topics, some self-harm (done by another character)

☆ AMAZON (sensing a pattern)

- Good Omens (CROWLEY)

An angel (Michael Sheen) and a demon work together to stop the end of the world. Queer romance (canon), some angst. Drama, comedy, LGBTQ+. David plays Crowley, the demon (who "sauntered vaguely downwards" rather than fell from heaven)

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Staged (DAVID TENNANT)

A COVID lockdown comedy about David Tennant and Michael Sheen talking via Zoom during the lockdown. Actually quite sad at times? Mostly silly, though. Features Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK) (or VPN)

- Around The World in 80 Days (PHILEAS FOGG)

Phileas Fogg, a quiet and reserved man, decides to travel around the world in 80 days, after he receives an anonymous postcard calling him a coward. Cute found family, drama, angst (ex-lover stuff, internalised cowardice, illness, near death experience), some violence. There's a scene where Phileas gets flogged (whipped, essentially) quite violently, and it's somewhat graphic. Touches on themes of racism. Phileas is 100% neurodivergent.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK) (or VPN)

- Inside Man (HARRY WATLING)

DT plays a vicar, Harry, who is involved in a murder after trying to protect his son - who was accused of having CP. Suicide themes, murder, self-harm - explores the idea that any person can murder, if they're pushed the right way. Includes topics to do with CP and pedophilia.

☆ NETFLIX, AMAZON

- Litvinenko (LITVINENKO)

Biopic about Alexander Litvinenko. A group of detectives investigate the poisoning of Litvinenko. David is bald in this show. (Scary)

☆ ITVX (UK) (or VPN)

- Doctor who (10TH AND 14TH DOCTORS)

Do I need to explain Doctor Who???? David Tennant plays the tenth and fourteenth regenerations of The Doctor, a Time Lord from outerspace. He travels around in the TARDIS with human companions.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK)

I think I'm gonna leave it there, but there are a LOT that I have not touched on. This post is a very accurate and long list of everything on DT's filmography, so i recommend you check that out.

Other things I didn't mention (off the top of my head):

There She Goes, Bad Samaritan, Einstein and Eddington, Rab. C Nesbitt, Bright Young Things, LA Without a Map, Much Ado About Nothing, Duck Patrol, True Love, Gracepoint, Camping (US), Nan's Christmas Carol, Mary Queen of Scots, (You, Me and Him), Secret Smile, Deadwater Fell, Jessica Jones, Dramarama, Spies of Warsaw, AND A LOT MORE. (+ voice acting roles, and also his narrating work on Spy In The Wild (2017)

#david tennant #good omens #takin over the asylum #campbell bain #broadchurch #takin' over the asylum #alec hardy #crowley #taking over the asylum #david tennant roles #casanova #phileas fogg #im not tagging them all #tennantverse #david tennantverse #david tennant fandoms #YES i left out a lot of very popular ones #dont come at me #this was just the ones i wanted to write about

[1000roughdrafts]

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

If you liked my story, I ask that you heart, comment or reblog. And/or you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

PermaTags <3 @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover788 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva

Dean @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl

#dean x reader fluff #supernatural fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader valentine's day #dean winchester x y/n #fluff #spn #supernatural dean #queued #supernatural fandom #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fic #supernatural fan fic #dean winchester #supernatural #fanfic

[itsfairly]

Two Negatives Make a Positive // Nanami Kento x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

cw: f!reader, neighbors to lovers, valentine's inspired (not mentioned but that's the main idea), not proofread

summary: dating can be tricky and nanami has confirmed that fact tonight on his date. but as he gets home and sees his neighbor alone by the stairs, he gets the feeling he isn't the only one with a bad night.

notes: i have no notes other than you can tell when things started to flow for him in this one.

liked this? show it with a like, reblog, and/or comment. each is greatly appreciated and celebrated!

His date wasn’t going well. Not because his date was rude or not interested, but it didn’t feel like a date. Rather than feeling his cheeks hurt from how much he was smiling, Nanami felt he was just being polite rather than smitten. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions so quickly, he thought, maybe as the date went on things would fall into place to meet again.

But things never seem to fall just right. Conversation was bland and when it seemed like it would get better, the moment didn’t seem to last for longer than a few seconds whether because of an interruption or because that was the end of that thread. They couldn’t seem to find their pace, resulting in multiple occasions when they ended up interrupting each other mid-sentence, maybe her sneaking her phone down the table as if to escape the awkwardness of the situation, which only made it worse in his eyes. It was obvious to know that, despite the kind “we should do this again sometime”, they wouldn’t meet each other for a second date.

After walking his date to their car, Nanami sighs, running his fingers through his hair. This one wasn’t as lucky either. Neither was the last, and the one before that, and the one before that…when did dating become so complicated? Even with this many ways to meet other people, the universe didn’t seem to help him much with his cards. Again, it wasn't like the people he met were horrible, they were always polite and even lovely, but it didn’t seem to click with any of them. Nanami was beginning to think that maybe he was looking for a spark that didn’t exist for many people, that he was having too high of expectations and he had to lower them to his dismay.

For now, he just wanted to be alone, maybe have something to get rid of that sad taste in his mouth once he got home. The drive was nothing noteworthy, simply love songs playing on the radio no matter how much he tried to avoid them by changing stations, almost as if the universe decided that mocking him was much more fun than helping him in his predicament. But eventually he gets home, but he also sees you. His neighbor was all dressed up and sitting by the entrance of the building with your phone in your hand.

Of course he knew you, but he had to admit he had to double check to confirm it was you. He just never caught you looking so…elegant like this, you were always rushing out of the building and coming back so exhausted from work that you always kept your appearance simple to make it easier to maintain. Not tonight. Tonight it was obvious that you took the time to impress someone: flowery dress with heels, blush and glossy lips, string earrings that match your necklace, along with a small purse that kept you company on the side. Another thing that was different was your face, not because of the make up but because of your expression. Rather than the bright and confident look that you always wore, you were looking down with a soured expression, letting out a frown as you put your phone down and buried your face in your hands.

While Nanami did know you, it wasn’t anything beyond neighbors. Hello and good evening accompanied by small talk for the sake of being polite, nothing more. But it wasn’t like he could just walk past you when you were obviously distressed. It might not be his place as a guy that happened to live in the same building as you, but he couldn’t ignore that you were alone outside and all dressed up. His mind made two and two together and decided to walk up ahead to you.

“Seems like I’m not the only one ending the night on a bad note.” Nanami said, trying to sound as casual as possible. He didn’t want to seem as if all he wanted was to downplay what you were going through.

You run your hands up through your hair, looking up at Nanami before you. Just like you, he was dressed quite elegantly, his blazer hanging around his arm and revealing the rest of his white shirt and black vest. He always dressed quite professional, being a businessman and all, as well as always looking quite stressed. Tonight though, he seemed let down, just like you did.

“You’re a man, right?” You asked, sounding gloomy. Before he could express his confusion to the question, you continued with, “explain to me why a guy would cancel a date five minutes before it.”

So it was as he thought, he got much luckier than you by not getting stood up by his date like you were. Offering a sympathetic chuckle, he sits down one the stairs with you. Not by your side but on the opposite side of the stairs to you. It was one thing for a date to not work like this, but it was another one to get canceled at the last minute, practically to be denied the chance to know whether or not it would lead to something more. It was a quite immature move to cancel so quickly and out of nowhere, especially when it seemed like you really put a lot of consideration into tonight if you looked like that.

“Do you want a polite answer or my answer?” He asks, bringing his hands together as he rests his elbows on his legs.

“Whichever is more real.” You mumbled.

Nanami sighs, looking up at the night sky as he searches for an answer. He didn’t want to make you feel worse, especially considering that your date’s actions are nowhere near your responsibility, but he knew how it could be so easy to beat yourself up over it if you looked distressed over it.

“Maybe he got cold feet at the last minute, realized that dating isn’t his thing or found someone else. Regardless, if he canceled minutes before your date, they are not worth your time if they disrespect you so quickly.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on your knees, looking straight ahead. Nanami could only hope that his words weren’t too harsh on you, so he decides to add onto his answer to soften whatever blow he might have landed.

“Besides, a man doesn't cancel a date so close to it. Maybe you got lucky avoiding such an immature guy just now.”

You chuckled, the corner of your lips lifting for a second in appreciation. You turn to look at him, your back resting against the stairs rail with a sigh.

“I know it has nothing to do with me or that I did something wrong, it’s just that I was excited for tonight. You know, that giddiness that comes on a date, getting to know each other, and…just hoping for more…”

As your words trail off, the two of you sit in silence, letting those feelings of disappointment come back up for Nanami. Those experiences you described were the ones he felt he was left out of tonight, instead getting brushed to the side at times by getting interrupted or his date focusing on something else other than their date together, as well as hoping for the date to either end or get better rather than wishing more of it. Of course, you probably felt the same as him, deprived of what so many people call the purpose of life. What a joke, he thought. If the purpose of life was to find someone you loved, then why was it so hard for some over others.

It felt weird for this to be his first conversation with you outside of small talk and other neighborly matters, but at the same time there was this odd comfort in knowing he wasn’t the only one feeling robbed of some romance for tonight, someone to share his misery with, even if you two were yet to know each other better.

“Being on the date isn’t easier either,” Nanami broke the silence with a light scoff.

You raise your brow at him, taking a good look up and down before asking, “Is that why you're all dressed up? I mean, you’re always looking very fancy and elegant. It’s just that tonight you looked like you were headed to somewhere nice.”

He chuckled, surprised at the subtle compliment, he doesn't comet much about it. “I did. It just wasn’t the date I was hoping for.”

You softened, your brows pinching together as your shoulders relaxed. “Was it that bad?”

“It wasn’t bad. She didn't do anything outrageous, but it was just uncomfortable. Not because of first date nerves, but because we didn't really click.” Nanami explained, shrugging his shoulders to show that it wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t that things didn’t work out on this particular date that bothered him anyways, it was that things weren't working out for quite some time and it was growing frustrating for him.

You nodded, taking in his words as well as his frustration. It was a different kind of frustration to yours at the moment, but it was the same feeling. You two were still looking for that romance that simply didn’t seem to come to either of you just yet, no matter how hard you tried to find it.

“Seems like dating is hard for the both of us.” You chuckled, resting your head against the railing. “It’s too tricky. Maybe we should start a support group for the romantically challenged."

Nanami chuckles, no, he laughs. It was enough to lift up his spirits after bringing them down. He shrugs, looking at you with a sympathetic smile, “That would mean we would have to find other people to join in.”

“I think people would be embarrassed to even join. You know, between dating apps and all, they would feel like there’s no excuse to complain about being single.”

“Then it can be just the two of us. It seems like we understand each other right now.”

You smile, making Nanami’s mood improve when he sees that smile that you always wear. That smile simply pulls your look together, brighter than the jewelry you’re wearing and softer than the dress around your body. It was strange. He just came out of a nice restaurant, the kind that has a nice dinner with dim lights, and he was having much more fun at the stairs of his building with his neighbor. One moment frustrated that his date didn’t click and the next feeling his lips curl up because of your smile, a smile that was because of him.

It took a second for him to realize that he was smiling much more sincerely before you than he did before his date tonight, a smile that not only reached his cheeks but also his eyes. That his chest was warming up with that feeling he has been seeking for longer than just this evening. That things were clicking.

After a few seconds of silence, he speaks up, his voice softer and tender, “I should’ve said this before, but you look really pretty tonight.”

Your smile softens as your head tilts downwards to look down at your clothes, as if you had forgotten that you had gotten ready for tonight, before looking back up to him, “oh, thank you…you look very nice yourself. Well, you always do, considering that this…” you signal to his clothes up and down with your hand, “...is what you wear on a daily basis. It’s a really good look on you.”

He chuckles, looking downwards for a second as he thinks on what to respond before he realizes he has a blazer on his lap. He looks up at the sky, the moon high on the night with the stars shining all around it, making him remember your smile and the earrings that frame your face nicely. He thinks that sight of you looks just as beautiful as the sky right now…

“Thank you. I wasn’t saying it to be nice though. I meant it and it’s a shame that they canceled and missed out on such a lovely person.” He reaffirms, scooting a bit closer to you.

You hummed, not scooting away from him or pushing him away. In fact, it seemed like your eyes couldn’t drift away from him. Whether it was the moon shining on them or something else, there was a shine to them now. He liked it. He really really liked it.

“Say,” Nanami clears his throat, swallowing his nerves as he looks at you with a hint of shyness now that he realized how much of a reaction he was having at the moment, “since we’re both so dressed up, what if we go out for a drink? To end the night on a better note.”

You chuckled, nodding at his proposal as you extended your hand for him to grab. “Thought you never ask.” You say playfully, your smile reaching your eyes as they squinted slightly.

Nanami chuckles as well, getting up from the stairs and standing in front of you to take your hand. As he lifts you up the stairs, he wraps his blazer around you, meeting a soft “oh” from your lips. When you try to take it off, insisting that he doesn't need to, he shakes his head.

“Please, it’s already late out here and cold. At least until we reach my car.” He insists, tilting his head down towards you to meet your eyes.

You keep your hands on his blazer, pulling it closer to you by the edges of it as you thank him. It was a nice feeling, maybe this is what he meant earlier when he called the guy that stood you up as immature because here he was as his contrast. Nanami wasn’t even your date until a few seconds ago and he was already making you feel all those butterflies in your stomach, that giddiness, that excitement of getting to know him…maybe this was what it meant to go out with a man that knew the kind of relationship he wanted. Secure and upfront, but also tender and considerate.

Opening the door of the car for you, Nanami helps you into the seat and then walks around the car on his own, a genuine smile on his face as he drives off to a café you recommended just now. As he drove, those same love songs from earlier keep playing on the radio, making him thank the universe for letting things play out the way they were supposed to. Now, not only did he know you two would do this again soon, but he also got that spark he has been looking for with you.

#nanami kento #nanmi kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento fanfic #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami fluff #kento nanami fanfic #nanami #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami fanfic #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #jutjutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk nanami kento

[talaok]

Hey. I had an idea for pedro and reader

How about them having a little kitchen date, making pasta and just talk

Pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

"Like this?"

"no no no" you mumbled, shaking your head as you abandoned your own task to go help him with his.

"You're torturing these poor tomatoes baby" You frowned, looking down at the mush that he'd created on the cutting board "Here let me show you," you said, as he handed you the knife

"like this" you explained, cutting the tomato like any normal human being would have cut it "Got it?"

And from the look of it, he hadn’t gotten it, his eyes weren't even on the motion, they were only on you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

A small smile pulled at his lips

"I just love it when you get bossy"

You raised an eyebrow at him "oh yeah?"

"yeah," he nodded, inching his face closer to yours.

"We should put that to the test later" you teased

"How bout right now?" he purred before kissing you

You smiled "Not a chance, cowboy, we said we were gonna do this and now we're gonna do it"

"fine" he groaned, as you passed him the knife back.

"Good boy" you joked, getting back to your station.

he grinned, before starting to slice the tomatoes again.

"So how did it go with your mom today?"

"Good" you smiled "She almost cried when she saw me at her doorstep, she said she hadn't seen me in so long she was starting to forget how I looked" You huffed out a laugh "Dramatic as usual, you know how she is"

He chuckled in response, 

"We went for a walk and then stopped for coffee..." You lost interest in your own sentence as your ears picked up on the melody coming from the radio.

"They're playing our song" you breathed through a smile.

He stopped what he was doing to listen too.

"Care for a dance, m'lady?" he asked without hesitation, a thick British accent falling from his lips, as he cleaned his hands on the apron you insisted he wore, and then extended one of them to you.

"With pleasure, m'lord" you replied, mimicking his tone.

And before you knew it, you were dancing around the kitchen, completely ignoring the song's rhythm, as you smiled at each other like you knew a secret nobody else was aware of.

Just like you did on your first date.

"Did I tell you you look very beautiful today?" he asked, smooth as ever.

"You did" you smiled 

"Well I think it's time to tell you again" he murmured, "You look stunning, sweetheart"

"Thank you" You rolled your eyes playfully, before giving him a quick kiss "you look beautiful too, but we'd better get back to cooking" you said, as you freed yourself of his hold and walked back to the counter

He groaned, as he walked up to you until he was able to wrap his arms around your torso, hugging you from behind, and placing his head on your shoulder.

"There's something else I'd like to do much more right now..."

You gasped, turning your head to find him

"Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you scolded "You better get back to cutting those tomatoes right now"

He chuckled, the vibrations of his voice rumbling against your back.

He kissed your cheek, before doing as told

"So bossy" he smirked

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #the last of us #joel miller #tlou #the mandalorian #javier peña #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #Pedro Pascal #fluff #daddy pascal #pedrohub #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedrito

[littlesubbyflower]

High Pitch - E.M.

Pairings:: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

1.5k Words

Warnings:: Fluff, established relationship, reader has sensitive ears and often finds discomfort in certain pitches, mentions of tympanostomy (surgery where tubes are placed in the eardrum) 

Summary:: After seeing your discomfort during Corroded Coffin’s setlist, Eddie vows you will never have to cover your ears ever again.

A/N:: Maybe you guys will like this version of Eddie? Sweet, loving, and caring boyfriend!Eddie. Also, thanks to my babies in the coven accountability sessions, ily <3 divider by @saradika-graphics

It all started one rainy September afternoon, Eddie swore he saw you flinch when he turned up the boombox he had stationed on his dresser. He had just gotten Ozzy Osbourne’s ‘The Ultimate Sin’ cassette in the sale section of the record store. Bringing one hand up to plug your ear closest to the radio before wrinkling your nose in discomfort, the other hand keeping the well loved copy of The Secret Garden open in your lap.

“Um, Eddie? Can you turn the radio down some?” You say apologetically. “I uh, just have a bit of a headache today.” 

Eddie immediately lowers the volume almost completely and sends an apologetic smile your way. “Yeah sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He takes a step forward and leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Do you need any Advil? Have you eaten anything? Drink any water?” 

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?” You smile sheepishly after slowly pulling your hand back down away from your ear. “I ate some of my lunch today, but I was in the library studying and only managed to eat my grapes and a granola bar. I had a few sips of my water too.”

Eddie shoots you a worried glance. “Alright, well, I’ll grab some Advil, a snack and water.”

“Thank you Eddie, you’re the best.” You call after him as he leaves the room. 

He returns a few minutes later with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, two Advil and a water bottle.

The next time Eddie swears he’s seeing things as you wince and plug your ears is during Corroded Coffin’s band practice

“Hey, I’m going to step out for a second,” You call over the guitar solo that Jeff had been working on. “--just need some fresh air.” Quickly standing and rushing outside near his van. 

Jeff finishes two notes before he stops and turns to Eddie. “Hey, is she okay?” 

“Yeah man, said she just needed some air.” Eddie said, pulling a cigarette from the crushed box he had in his pocket and lighting it before inhaling and sitting on one of the larger guitar amps. 

“Maybe her ears are a little sensitive. Sometimes certain pitches can bother me, so I wonder if it’s the same for her.” Gareth says. 

“Maybe? She has been having a few more headaches, and asks me to turn things down quite often.” Eddie says, ashing his cigarette into the amber ashtray sitting on a table next to the amp.

Jeff nods in agreement, and turns the amp down a few notices and starts the solo again. Meanwhile, you’re rummaging through your bag, dumping the contents into Eddie’s passenger seat. Finally grabbing the small bottle of Advil, you take two. You make a mental note to try and put a pack of ear plugs into your bag for times like this. 

You feel guilty tears building in your lash line, wiping them quickly before heading back towards the garage. Finding your place back on the couch, you sit with your feet tucked under you before smiling at the guys. 

“Feelin’ any better, sweetheart?” Eddie asks. 

“Yeah, I am.” You smile back at him. “Thanks.” You say as Gareth hands you a water then passes water to the other boys. 

For the next twenty minutes, any guitar solos that needed to be practiced were done so with the instrument unplugged or moved to one of the acoustic guitars. Confusion settles over your features but you decide not to ask, silently thankful that the rest of band practice went a lot more quietly than when it had started.

“Well boys, I’m beat. We’re probably going to head out.” Eddie says, standing from his spot where he was still seated on the amp. 

“You sure? We can stay for a bit longer if you want to keep practicing.” You say, looking up at him. Eddie smiles at you. 

“I’m sure sweetheart, plus you look a bit tired. Let’s get you home.” Eddie says, holding his hand out for you to take. You take his hand and he helps you off the couch. “Okay boys, guess we’re leaving. Same time on Wednesday?”

“Possibly.” Jeff said.

“We have a gig tomorrow at The Hideout.” Gareth reminded Eddie. “Nine pm, so we will need to load up the van and go to unpack at seven.” 

“Got it! I’ll be here at seven, if any of you asshats are late, you’ll be walking.” Eddie jokes. 

Eddie peaked out from the corner to see you chatting with Steve and Robin. He smiled to himself and stepped back closer towards the band. 

“Does anyone want a drink before we go on?” Jeff asked. 

“Can I just have a Coke?” Gareth asked. 

“Same.” Eddie said.  

Damien shook his head. “No thanks, I’m good.” 

Jeff slipped out into the crowd and ordered the drinks and quickly went back to distribute them before downing his own drink before making his way to the stage. Meanwhile, Steve migrated you and Robin closer to the front so you could see Eddie. 

“Oh, I meant to ask, did you bring your ear plugs?” Robin said close to your ear. 

Your face paled in color as you pat your pockets. Steve searched his pockets as well but came up empty handed. 

“Shit…” you groaned. 

“It’s okay, maybe the pitches won’t be so bad?” Robin said wearily. Boy she was so, so wrong. A high pitched, loud, note came barreling out of the amp and nine o’clock on the dot. 

Steve’s hands immediately came up to your ears as you flinched, squeezing your eyes shut, silently cursing yourself for being so forgetful. 

Eddie sent a confused look your way and Gareth scrunched his face up in an apologetic manner, while Jeff’s face held a guilty expression. 

The set was short tonight, playing two or three songs instead of the usual five or six. It was something you were extremely grateful for, but would rather die than tell Eddie that. 

“We’re Corroded Coffin, Thanks so much for coming out tonight!” Eddie said with a goofy grin that faded when the spotlight turned off. 

A group of girls waited by the side of the stage for Eddie, but after setting his guitar down, he walked straight past them and made a beeline to you. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” His eyes search yours before pulling you into a hug as Steve removes his hands off of your ears. 

“Y-yeah, I’m okay! Why?” 

“No you aren’t.” Robin says. 

Steve elbows her side. “This isn’t our place, Rob.” 

“Well could someone tell me what’s going on?” Eddie says. 

Silence falls between the four of you. Eddie expectantly looks at you. 

A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you close your eyes and turn your head away. “I just– it’s just–” 

“Sweetheart, take a deep breath, I promise whatever it is, I won’t be mad.” Eddie says, using his thumb and forefinger to turn your head to look at him. 

“I have really sensitive ears and sometimes the notes that are being played physically hurt my eardrums…” Your eyes immediately drop to the floor. “Not your typical ‘Ow, that was kind of loud’ hurt, like ‘someone is shoving needles into my eardrum’ kind of hurt.” 

Eddie sucks in a deep breath and a guilty look flashed across his face. Why had you been in pain this entire time and never said anything? Band practice was probably the most miserable 2 to 3 hours of your life and Eddie had absolutely no idea. If band practice was bad, then the gigs played at The Hideout were even worse.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie said. “Why didn’t you say anything? God, now I feel like an asshole for anytime I gave you shit when you asked me to turn things down.” Sighing heavily, pulling your body impossibly closer to his, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. “I am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck as he squeezed you, you giggled. “Eddie, ‘s not your fault. I just had three tympanostomies before the age of six.” Eddie looks at you confused. “I had three sets of tubes put into my ears before the age of six for my chronic ear infections and because of that, I have super sensitive ears.” 

“She’s also supposed to use ear plugs.” Robin said, in her ‘matter of factly’ tone.

“Ear plugs?”

“Yes, earplugs. She’s got some special ones that her doctor had given her for use at school, but she’s supposed to wear the foam type ones if she goes to concerts.” Robin continues and Steve chimes in. “Usually I have some in my pocket because she and Robin have convinced me to go to several impromptu concerts, but I have two or three packs on me to block out the twerps arguing when I have to drive them around. Dustin’s screaming gets intense sometimes.” 

“Melvad’s closes at eleven, right?” Eddie asks. 

“I’m pretty sure, I think Joyce is working tonight too.” You say. “It’s late, can we just go tomorrow?” 

“Whether we go now or in the morning, I don’t care.” Eddie kisses the top of your head. “I’m buying an entire box of foam ear plugs to keep in the van. I never, and I mean never want to see the look I saw on your face as soon as we started playing ever again.” 

#littlesubbyflower #lsfwrites #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #littlesubbyflower: eddie munson #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x daughter!Reader (Platonic)

So, I finally gave in and watched the series. It was cool but the pacing was a bit too fast for me and sometimes i felt like it was deviating way too much from the original plot for such a short series. But wow, y'all were right about Alastor. He stole the show. I wanted to write something for him, but I was not sure how to proceed given that he is aroace (tremendous irony considering that I might be aroace irl). Nothing seemed to fit, given that this dude has never had a bit of romance in his life and refuses to do so. But I came accross a wonderful fic about Alastor having an adopted daughter who became an angel, and everything made sense to me. I saw the light. Whoever you are, I will find your fic again, like it, and reblog it.

Big reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason. TW: gory elements, blood, near decapitation, implied death threat towards a child.

This is not proof read. So please excuse any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Part I (You are here!)｜Part II｜Part III

This deer man has never shown interest in neither romance nor sex. So the only logical conclusion is that he adopted you when you were just a baby.

He found the idea of having that much power and control over someone amusing, molding them just the way he desired.

How unexpected it was for him to suddenly find that it was you who had him wrapped around your little finger and not the other way around!

But how could he not adore you! You were delightful! You were his little fawn, always so sweet and loving, he would have thought his own beloved mama had been secretly raising you from the afterlife!

Oh, with how much joy your eyes filled when you saw your papa return home after a long day at work! He was your everything, always smiling and fun loving, but also knowing where to draw the line.

He absolutely loved singing to you, his tunes filled with rythm along with the smoothness of his voice were enough to give you a full night of sleep filled with sweet dreams.

And while you dreamed... Your dad was outside, creating nightmares.

He made sure you never got to see that side of him. You were too naive and pure, your light could become corrupted.

Very overprotective father. Always subtly controlling who are you hanging out with and how much time (he would despise having to share his beloved child's attention with someone else) "Darling, I think you have already played enpugh with X I'm sure their parents miss them." (and if they don't, they WILL).

Finding about your Papa's double life would be entirely on accident. One day, he would take you to his job at the radio station, and some drunk and racist asshole would harass you on the streets, terrifying you out of your mind. Your dad kept a calm and collected expression never once losing that charming smile of his, but you could tell something was off. He quickly brushed it off, casually reminding you that it was just your terrified imagination playing tricks on you.

That night, your papa was taking too long from the station, so you decided to come and get him (dunno how safe the streets would be for a child that time because reader is about 13-14 years old). You wished you had waited and stayed home. Because the only light was coming from the recording studio, and peeking through the small opening, your blood froze in your veins.

Your Papa was pushing off himself the dead body of the same man that had assaulted you early that day. His pristine white shirt that he always made sure to keep in perfect conditions was drenched with blood that was quickly drying up.

You quietly tiptoed your way back to the entrance, wondering how you weren't heard given how loud your heart was hammering in your chest.

You felt like your entire world had come crashing down, and as you returned home, you tried your best picking up the remaining pieces.

Your beloved father would never do something like that, right? There had to be a misunderstanding. That was it. That man had viciously assaulted you earlier that day, maybe he came back and tried to attack your dad at his job? It had to be self defense. That was the only option.

Your dad seemed to be breathing heavily, probably from the adrenaline rush from having had to take a life in self defense, but had you not been so shocked and scared, maybe you would have noticed the manic glee in his eyes and the way his smile had widened into something outright demonic.

You decided you would never tell anyone. Yes, it was horrifying that it had ended up like this, but telling anybody could get your dad in serious trouble and in this case he was not the one to blame.

So you kept quiet. Tried to act as normal as you could in front of your father and everyone else. If Alastor noticed, he never told. Everything seemed back to normal, until...

Until one day someone knocked at your door. A police officer. He seemed to be asking questions about the guy you saw your dad kill, protect himself from, a week ago. He was the son of some big shot from the city. A very important one. Rats.

He had come knocking on your door because some witeness had said that the very same day of his murder he had saw him in an altercation with your dad. Double rats.

It was amazing how your father didn't lose composure at all, not even for a second, always keeping a calm smile on his face while he patiently described the events of that day. You could barely refrain from shaking, how was he so relaxed?.

You knew your father was lying, he had to. What else could he do? Confess that that man had assaulted him again at his studio at night and he had to fight for his life? He would be hanged. No one would believe his word against that of a rich white man.

When the officer left, you thought that would be the end of it, your father's charms having won him over as always.

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened a week later.

The first red flag would have been having your father letting you stay at a friend's house for the night. That never happened. Your father always insisting very dramatically that if he were to be apart from you for an entire night he would surely die of grief!

But that day something seemed... Weird. Your father had a determined look on his face and gave you no explanation when you asked if there was something wrong.

You couldn't sleep, there was this nagging at the back of your head that was practically screaming at you that you should return home right now.

You quietly sneaked out of your friend's house in the middle of the night and made your way back home. That unnerving feeling growing inside your mind. 'Just a quick peek, just to make sure he's alright and I'll go back to my friend's'

The lights at your home were on, but it was so dim you could barely make out anything. It was coming from the basement. Someone was humming a tune, you recognized your father's voice.

There was a terrible smell coming from there, like rotten fruit mixed with burning trash. It made you gag, but at the same time you needed to know what was going on there.

Curiosity killed the cat, that was your father always told you.

On top of the wooden table, laid a dead body that you sadly knew too well. It was the police offcer that had come home to interrogate you a week ago. His chest had been cut open and some organs seemed missing. His head had been nearly torn from his body and was only hanging by a few tendons in his neck. The blood was forming a sticky puddle on the floor.

If that wasn't horrifying enough for you the worst part had to be the look on your father's face. Joy. Pure unbridled joy and elation. It chilled you to the bone.

You tried to take a step back, tried to return to you friend's house and forget everything, pretend this had never happened. But your shoe got stuck. And you fell backwards.

That caught Alastor's attention. His joyful expression changed into one of confusion, but never once losing his smile.

"Y/N?" He asked flatly.

You bolted. You didn't know what to do where to run, but you knew you had to escape before he caught you.

You could hear him giving chase, calling your name. You could see him getting close, reaching for you.

What you didn't see was the truck that ended it all.

#alastor x reader #alastor #tw: blood #tw: death #tw: gore #tw: body horror #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #platonic reader

[sinsmockingbird]

Sumire lovers are asking for a prt 3 of the condom series with the graden members! (and maybe add adela and eleven in)

Sumire lovers will be Sumire havers. I mean- you'll be Garden havers in this case with a few additions. I love these women very much.

CW: Smut under the cut!

✧ ADELA

• Adela would be chuckling softly to herself when she sees you grab the XL sized condoms, but her face is flushing a light pink.

• Unlike a lot of the women, Adela keeps the most calm and doesn't address it. Fully, at least. She'll make a small, passing comment saying, "My, I didn't know you were that big."

• It'll make you pause and flush red as you duck your head in slight embarrassment, before watching her as she continues on shopping like she hadn't said anything.

• At home, she makes sure to take her sweet time with you. She wants the moment to be special and full of love, taking time to undress you and then herself.

✧ COQUELIC

• Coquelic is a huffing mess of embarrassment and arousal. She's red faced and slightly shaking when she realizes you grabbed the XL sized condoms. Knowing your that huge has her squeezing her thighs slightly together.

• She tries to be subtle about it, but you know her signs when she's aroused, and you can tell after sometime of shopping that she is.

• If you try to say something about it, be prepared for her to suddenly slap you, her face blooming even more red as she sputters out an excuse, before accusing you of being a pervent.

• Don't take anything she says to heart, she doesn't know how to handle the situation. But if it did bother you, make sure to make her drunk on your cock as you fuck any of her holes once you get home.

✧ GAROFANO

• Garofano can't help but laugh when she sees you grab the XL sized condoms, her past exes flashing in her head as she remembers how pathetic their cocks were.

• But know knowing what you were packing in your pants, she knows for a fact that you'll actually be able to pleasure her unlike them. She can just imagine how big you'll be spreading open her mature pussy.

• It gets her excited. It gets her... needy, something she rarely ever is. So don't mind if she's hooking your arms together as you finish shopping, pressing her breasts firmly against your arm as a silent way of telling you, "I can't wait to have you."

• Once home, Garofano will be taking the lead first, her experience coming out as she handles pleasuring you with expertise. But once you cum all over her hands, pin her to the bed and give her the best fucking she's ever had.

✧ ELEVEN

• Eleven will have a small smile tugging at her lips when she notices you placing the XL sized condoms into the basket. She'll glance between you and it for a few moments, but doesn't say anything further.

• It isn't until a little bit more into your shopping that she leans into your back, brushing her lips against your ear as she speaks so softly.

• It leaves you flustered and aroused, fidgeting with the basket as you intend to get shopping done quickly tp be able to get home soon.

✧ SUMIRE

• As soon as you are, Eleven will be voice recording the entire thing (with your permission), so she's able to listen back to the first night she took your big cock. Who knows, maybe she'll share it to her radio station.

• Poor Sumire gets so meek and timid, it's honestly surprising. The second she notices your hand even reaching for the XL sized condoms, she's shaking and can only imagine what your cock looks like.

• She's chewing her bottom lip, eyeing you as you continue shopping, acting like everything was okay. Which it was! Besides the aching pain between her legs that's just getting worse by the second.

• At some point she's tugging on your sleeve, hiding her flushed face into your shoulder as she mutters if you guys can leave early. If you question her, she'll subtly grind herself against your leg, giving you all the indication you need.

• Soon as you get home, Sumire finds a bit of her confidence again, pushing you against the bed and moving to pleasure you, wanting to get more familiar with your large cock before anything else goes further.

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