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bonny-kookoo · 2 months

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Jungkook

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮. [Running Free (Final)]

Decisions have to be made- you can't just run away from them.

Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Dog Hybrid!Reader, comfort, romance??, Fluff, happy end I guess, we finished another one yay

Length: 5k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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You’re being released from the hospital this week.

He’s not too sure how he feels about it, but he knows it’s for the best. The longer you stay in, the more you gain the risk of catching an infection that’ll be resistant to most medication due to the natural environment of a hospital- and you also deserve to go home, wherever that might end up being.

He’ll miss the daily visits, and he will most of all miss the hospital- but he’s made his choice, long term wish of finally having his own office as a hybrid specialist in the city soon to be coming true. The building is currently being renovated from the core, to soon become a place where hybrids can finally be treated without having to have their owners or partners drag them hours away to another location. This had been his dream ever since he’s started med school-

And it looks like if everything goes smooth from now on, it’ll finally come true.

You on the other hand, clearly can’t wait to get outside.

After multiple sessions with a professional, you’ve slowly come to learn that most of the things you’ve been taught weren’t actually true at all. While it’s correct that certain hybrids can’t be outside alone, for most hybrids it’s just a general suggestion- there’s no law against going out alone. So now that you know that you can actually go outside, you constantly ask him if he’ll take you-

And he’d love to, but he just doesn’t have the time.

So instead you’ve gone out with Jimin a few times, while Jungkook would eagerly listen to all the fun stories the nurse would get to experience with you. If he was up for it, you’d probably be really happy with him- but Jungkook knows that Jimin has his reasons for not even thinking about taking you in.

“She’s scratching her ear a lot.” Jimin mentions at lunch, and Jungkook instantly focuses. “I think she might’ve either developed an ear infection or it’s something that’s been brewing for a while.”

“Well, her ears fold over quite a bit so it wouldn’t be surprising.” Jungkook hums as he eats his food. “And since she’s not been outside much her immune system probably isn’t the strongest. I’ll take a look at it later, see if it needs anything prescribed.” He offers, as Jimin falls quiet for a moment, watching the doctor. “what?”

“You have to let her get discharged-“ He starts, but Jungkook instantly shakes his head.

“I will, I will, I’d never do that.!” He argues. “I just want to make sure everything’s alright before she leaves.” He says quietly into his food.

“You could just take her home.” Jimin chuckles. “you’d get to make sure all the time then.” He teases, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Its not that simple. I told you.” He reminds his older coworker, who nods.

“I know, sorry.” He brushes the topic off, before Jungkook’s name is being called out, making Jimin sigh with sympathy for his friend. “I’ll have them wrap it so you can heat it up later?” He asks, and Jungkook nods as he wipes his mouth already standing up.

“Thanks.”

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“hm, yeah, it all looks like it.” Jungkook hums as he inspects your ear, before taking out some cotton swabs and a cleaning solution. “But it’s not bad. Most likely just your immune system being a little over-protective.” He reassures you as he moves to put some of the cleaning solution on the ball of cotton.

“is that bad?” You wonder. “when will I be normal?”

“You’re already normal, don’t worry about that.” The doctor tells you before he holds up your ear to both clean and disinfect it- something you slightly move away from, as it’s uncomfortable. “no no, stay here, yeah?” He tells you, but it’s hard. “you’re doing great..” he mumbles the praise as he makes sure to do a good job while not taking longer than necessary. “Jimin said you saw ducks today?” He tries to distract you, and it seems to work.

“they were in a.. pond, nearby. But there was a fence so I couldn’t get close.” You explain, making Jungkook chuckle. It’s probably for the best you couldn’t- you could’ve fallen into the ice cold waters or gotten lost otherwise. You’re not used to being outside, and Jimin doesn’t have a good sense of what you’re capable of doing and where you should be more supervised than someone else.

You’re holding onto the pink and white little plushy, and he’s again reminded of his choice.

Did he make the right call? Hopefully, because he honestly doesn’t really think that a situation like this will ever truly reoccur like this again. But he had sat down yesterday to go through everything, just to come to a clearer answer for himself. This isn’t something to take lightly, and again, sometimes letting go is the best option to take.

For the rest of the day, you don’t see Jungkook anymore- and neither do you see him the day after, as you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, shoes on your feet and bag packed. Jimin had shed a few tears at seeing you go- but you told him you might visit without needing actual help for once.

The care worker looks nice. He’s wearing a jacket with an official emblem on it for hybrid social work- and he seems really friendly. “You ready?” He asks, and you nod-

There’s no use in waiting for something that won’t happen, after all.

In the small van, you watch all the people and cars pass you by, while the car radio plays slight music on low volume. “if you don’t like the place I’ll bring you, you can always call the number in the phone, okay?” the care worker says, and you nod. The phone you got has a very simplified, easy to understand user interface installed, so it didn’t take you too long to understand how it works. It’s still however quite odd to hold it in your hands.

Everything you thought you knew had been a lie.

“Don’t be afraid to speak up. We’re always just a call away.” He offers, before he parks in front of a tall apartment complex, fancy, high security. He’s being asked twice about where he wants to go and what his name is, as he walks around with you, elevator chiming happily before it opens.

Everything is so.. big. Fancy. Expensive. You shudder, as you remember the last time you’ve been to a place like this.

Will it be the same again? Someone rich and famous buying you just to lock you up and feed you lies? You worry. You really want to go back to the hospital.

When you walk out the elevator and wait in front of another door, you become anxious. But just for a moment, because you start to.. smell something.

And when the door opens, you finally know where you actually are-

As you stand right in front of doctor Jeon, who’s smiling kindly right at you and your wagging tail.

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Jungkook’s apartment is big, very high up in the tall building, and smells like him.

There’s a room just for you, and he’s also got many windows- from the regular balcony and smaller windows in your room, to large one’s going all the way from the floor to the ceiling, showing the tiny city below in the living room. You’re currently sitting on the floor right in front of them, as Jungkook approaches you, sitting down next to you. “You like the view?” He asks, and you nod.

“Do you think I can be an ant now, too?” you ask, and he looks at you a bit confused. “the people.. they look like ants.” You say, pointing to the people all the way down on the ground walking around despite the late hour.

“would you like to be one of them?” He wonders, having brought you a pillow to sit on now- one you happily take.

You nod. “they.. get to have phones. And they meet friends. Or eat at restaurants and drink. Or they buy large stuffed toys.” You explain, and Jungkook realizes that this must’ve been your standard.. or rather only form of entertainment up until now.

Instead of experiencing life, you only got to watch it in silence, secretly.

“Well, you already have a phone. And if you want, we can go eat at restaurants and cafes too- though I might not get you coffee.” He chuckles, watching you look at him now with drooping ears. “it’s bitter.” He explains, and you nod at that.

“Hm.. then maybe something else?” You ask. “but not chocolate. That makes me feel bad.” You tell him, and he internally cringes. Of course it makes you feel bad- you’re a hybrid, and therefore sensitive to it.

“we can check if a Café has hybrid alternatives. I’m sure there’s one.” He tells you, and you smile, tail swishing around a bit as you yawn. “now come on, let’s go to bed.” He says before he gets up, and you look up at him.

“Can I sleep here?” You ask, and much to your surprise, Jungkook nods easily.

“sure. I’ll put your mattress here then.” He offers as he disappears into your room to fetch just that and some bedding to make you comfortable.

This really is quite different from your old home.

You watch how he carefully creates a good bed for you on the floor in front of the window, not just slap everything down there and have you do it yourself. No, this is caring- he even brings out your pink and white plushy that you’ve been given back at the hospital, before he smiles at you who moves to crawl beneath the blankets. “if you need another blanket, there’s one on the couch. And if you end up not liking it here just wake me up and I’ll help you set up your bed in your room again-“ he explains, when your tail just starts wagging wildly beneath the thick bedding.

“Thank you “ You say, and he smiles gently, before he leaves you be.

Even long after he’s switched off his own lights as well, you’re still awake, watching the people down below go about their late night activities. From groups of friends drunkenly stumbling home to couples holding hands, office workers waving for a cab home and policemen patrolling to make sure everything’s alright.

You feel like right now, you’re just one of them as well. Just another being, existing in the same world and same universe as them, experiencing your own life.

And with Jungkook at your side, you already feel like this is going to be the best life ever.

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When you wake up the next morning, it’s slow. Steady. A smooth transition from dreaming to becoming conscious.

Your eyes are still closed while you realize someone’s touching you- but with no ill intentions. Instead, the hands simply adjust the blanket over your body, tucking it back into place so you won’t get cold. He makes no efforts to wake you up at all, instead, Jungkook simply rests a hand on you shoulder for a moment, before he leaves you be.

You can hear him do something in the open kitchen nearby. Your ears tilt towards him, a reaction out of your control.

When he sits down wit his coffee in hand on the couch nearby to watch TV, he catches your now opened eyes- and he smiles. “Good morning.” He offers, and your tail can’t help but react to it as it begins to wag beneath the covers. “slept well?” He asks, and you nod.

You look around for a clock.

“It’s a little past one PM.” He tells you, and you sit up straight at that, shocked. “don’t worry- if I’d wanted you to wake up earlier, I wouldn’t have let you sleep this long.” He reassures you, setting his mug down on the coffee table in front of him. “But it looked like you needed some proper rest, so I let you.”

“I'm sorry.” You mumble, looking to the other side to see the windows show almost nothing from the world outside, fog thick and heavy in the air.

“No need to be.” Jungkook promises. “if you want we can go out later- but the weather isn’t too nice, so we could also very much just stay in today.” He says.

“Don’t you have to work?” You ask, wondering how this will work out in the future as well. Will you have to stay home alone often? Will he at least let you look out of the windows in that case?

“I took my vacation and I’m also finally working on getting rid of all the overtime I’ve collected this year.” He chuckles. “Mostly to help you get used to things, and to.. You know, have you get to know me better.” Jungkook explains, and you nod.

“So... when you go to work again, I’ll stay at home?” You wonder, now relaxing again as a yawn interrupts your words a little, before you stretch your limbs, falling back down onto your makeshift bed.

“We’ll see. I might have someone check in on you once during the day, or I’ll take you to work with me. I’m not too sure about that yet- but we’ll figure it out along the way.” He reassures you. “Right now I believe you should get up and wake up properly, huh?” He laughs, as you nod, slowly standing up to roll up your bedding, struggling a bit to hold it all at once, before you walk into what he showed you is technically your room.

Jungkook smiles. Of course, you don’t have to do this- you could very much just leave it right there and he wouldn’t be bothered, but if this is something you want to do willingly, he will let you. It’ll be very helpful to get you into a comfortable routine as quickly as possible, so he can figure out if he can leave you by yourself, and if so, for how long.

He knows you’re a lot more independent and intelligent than your past owner thought you were- but you still haven’t ever had to live completely on your own, so no one, not even you yourself, knows how you’d handle that. If something was to happen, lets say you drop something in the kitchen and it breaks, it could very much send you into a panic and cause you to get hurt unintentionally. And with him not being home, this could become a problem.

But thats only something in his mind for now. He’ll figure this out somehow.

He has to.

When you come back out the bathroom after getting ready for the day, Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little, waving you closer to where he’s sitting on the sofa. “Turn around for me.” He chuckles, properly pulling your tail out through the designated opening in the back of your shorts. “There we go.” He says, and you sit down next to him now, looking at the windows.

“Why can’t I see the city anymore?” You ask him, and he sets down his coffee, cup now empty.

“Because the clouds are too thick.” He explains. “We’re basically in the middle of them, so that’s why you can’t see.”

“We’re in the clouds?” You ask, mesmerized, and he nods.

“We are.” He agrees.

“So if I went on the balcony, I could touch them?” You wonder, and he laughs.

“I mean, technically? But they’re not soft or anything, so you might be disappointed.” He warns you.

“But you’d let me on the balcony?” You ask, and he nods.

“Clouds are just wet though. You’ll just get a shower, basically.” He laughs under his breath, though he does walk into your room with you, to unlock the glass door to the balcony with a key. “Careful though. Can I hold your hand?” He asks, and you nod, though you clearly look confused. “Just so I feel a bit calmer.”

“Why you?” You ask, not really sure why he’d feel any better holding your hand. “Are you scared of the balcony?” You question him, but he shakes his head with a smile.

“No, but I’m scared of you falling.” He reveals.

“Oh.” You simply answer, taking his hand at that, before you step out into the cloudy outdoors-

But just for a moment, because you quickly realize that Jungkook was right-

Clouds aren’t all that fluffy at all.

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You’re out for the first time with Jungkook, and he has to admit, you’re nothing like he thought you’d be like.

You’re so incredibly great at controlling yourself and your reactions to things, always almost instinctively reaching for him if something becomes too much or if something makes you unsure. It makes him feel incredibly proud- because you clearly already have accepted him as your safety person, always relying on him if you feel like you can’t handle something. You always trust that he will do it for you- and he does, even if he only notices doing it in hindsight.

You sometimes seem to get a bit overwhelmed with eye contact from other hybrids and even humans, and he also notices the way you visibly shrink away from anybody trying to talk to you directly. Its most likely a trained response, taught to you with simple conditioning, and he feels a bit upset about it. But its not all that bad as he thought it might be- overall, you’re handling this day out very well.

You’re currently sitting in a hybrid friendly cafe, your eyes wide as you look at the delicately decorated milk foam on top of your hot chocolate that’s specifically made so that you won’t end up with a stomachache. Jungkook can’t help his smile as he watches you enjoy your little treat- the slice of cake you’re eating clearly being enjoyed to its maximum as you savor every bite.

“Did you know you can actually order all by yourself here?” Jungkook tells you, and your ears instantly tilt towards him at that, as you lick your lips clean of the milk foam from your cup.

“Really?” You wonder. “Me too?” You ask him, knowing very well that technically, hybrids of your category aren’t usually allowed to make any purchases by themselves.

But Jungkook nods. “They have a program here.” He explains. “Basically, I’ll pay upfront, and they’ll take your photo and ID so you can get food or something to drink here anytime you’d like, all on your own.” He informs you, and you nod, amazed.

He noticed that things like that make you feel good. Giving you any form of independence, even if it’s just a somewhat illusion, boosts your confidence. And he loves seeing that.

“But I always want to come here with you though.” You say.

“We can.” He nods happily.

“But I can order?” You ask, making him grin.

“Of course.” The doctor agrees. “I can get you an independence card too, once we both got more comfortable with each other.” He tells you.

“Why’re you doing all that?” You ask, a bit confused as you cut another piece of your slice of cake. “Like.. I always thought guys like it when their hybrids are all.. Dependent and stuff.” You shrug.

“Hm. Maybe because I like seeing you happy. And offering you these things makes you happy.” He explains his intentions.

“Would you ever like me as a girlfriend?” You bluntly ask, and Jungkook stutters in his movements a bit, caught entirely off guard. He’s never really ever thought about that at all, and he’s not sure if he really could- but he can’t deny that he does like you, a lot, already. Not to that degree, but he has to admit-

That could change.

“I’m.. Not sure yet.” He admits. “I can’t tell you a full on answer yet. Why do you ask?” He wonders, and you shrug.

“Just asking.” You tell him. “I’ve been told that hybrids can’t be real girlfriends.” You just say, and he fills in the blanks inside his head by deciding that this narrative must’ve been fed to you by your past owner. It’s a common thing a lot of people who’ve never met any hybrid personally say- because they believe that hybrids are nothing but abominations, or forever unable to really decide anything for themselves, when in reality, this isn’t true at all. Just like regular people, hybrids are all different- some will always have to rely on people, while others don’t need any help at all. There’s even hybrids who have full work permits, live on their own, have families and normal average lifes. It’s more common than one might think.

“That’s not true.” Jungkook denies.

“But like, could a hybrid and a normal person even have children?” You ask, and Jungkook nods.

“There’s evidence that hybrid-human pregnancies are generally safe and usually progress normally. The children inherit some hybrid traits depending on gender of the parent and child themselves, but it’s a lot less and therefore especially the visual traits are typically a lot less prominent.” He rants, taking a sip of his iced coffee before he continues. “It’s actually really interesting, because the children usually end up a lot more resilient to common infections like the flu or the common cold- but it’s not very clear as to why. I personally think it might be because viruses that infect humans behave differently in hybrids- so maybe because of that they’re less vulnerable to these things. They do however show up with problems more common in hybrids though, like eye problems or psychological issues.” He continues, and only after a moment or two does he notice you’ve stopped eating, now just watching him with a smile on your face. “...sorry. I was kind of getting lost there..” He apologizes, but you just laugh, tail wagging wildly.

“No, no, go on!” You cheer him on. “I love that face you make when you talk about stuff you like.” You say.

“The face I make?” He chuckles. “What face do I make?”

“I don’t know- your eyes sparkle, and they get all round. And you gesture with your hands.” You explain. “I didn’t understand most of it, but I’ll still listen.”

And Jungkook smiles.

Because honestly-

That's all he could ever ask for.

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Jungkook has definitely changed his mind on you now, almost a month after living together with you.

You’re very open with your affection towards him, a whole lot better at sensing someone’s attraction than a normal human would be, since you don’t really care about what he could be implying with his words- you only take into account what you know how to interpret. And that’s other cues, like body language, scent, and actions.

You don’t try and read between the lines- you just see things for what they are. And apparently, he’s not very good at hiding any of his growing feelings towards you at all.

And with your confidence rising under his care, you’ve become a real threat to his sanity he feels like- because you’re actively flirting with him, finding way after way to make him flustered left and right, always catching you off guard. And the worst part is that he slowly leans into it, accepting it, and also has begun to initiate such contact as well.

Well, its not really a ‘worst’ part. If anything, it feels like he finally found what he’s subconsciously always been looking for.

You’ve been sneaking your way into his bed at night- and somehow, that evolved into you permanently sleeping next to him in his bed, something that you both just quietly agreed on. This is however, right now, the first time you’re both actively cuddling- slowly testing the water so to speak as you quietly take new steps towards each other. Nothing has to be said in this moment- there's no words needed to really communicate with each other.

He’s never seen you this close, and neither have you.

His hand slowly moves to hold yours, before you place your palm on his, comparing your hand sizes before you giggle still a little sleepy. He doesn’t know why, but somehow, he just feels like its the right thing to do in this moment, as he pulls your hand closer to kiss the back of it, eye contact he holds with you visibly sending out the message he wants to with success as your eyes widen, before you smile a bit shy.

He already has plans on how to incorporate you into his work in the future, so he can always have you somewhat at his side, while also giving you a genuine task you can manage.

You suddenly move closer to him, as he lays on his back now, you hugging him closely so you’re almost halfway on top of him, basking in the physical contact you have with him. You’re both only dressed in comfortable sleeping clothes, nothing but underwear and lazy shirts, and you love this. It’s like you’re currently living in a vacuum, time having no meaning, outside world simply waiting for you both to be ready to continue at any time.

But for now, you just want to stay like this. Close to him.

And its also very clear that he doesn’t mind this situation either- not one bit, as he initiates contact as well, hand running over the length of your arm as he leans his head close to yours. “We have to get up soon.” He tells you, and your ears instantly move towards the sound of his voice, though you whine in protest, clinging to him now. “We can’t stay in bed all day.”

“Why not?” You wonder, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “I like being in bed with you.” You say, wagging tail making it clear that you’re very aware of how this sentence could also be interpreted.

“Do you?” He answers, not backing down anymore as he usually would. “we’re just being lazy. That’s boring, no?” He asks, and you laugh a little, before turning onto your back next to him.

“Well, yeah. But it doesn’t have to be.” You propose, and at that he moves now, leaning over you ad he looks at you beneath him.

“You’re right.” He agrees, voice low because with you being this close, there’s no need for much volume in his words. “I could think of a few things we could do.” He purrs down at you, and you grin, comfortable and even excited. You know exactly what this could mean, and you’re actively seeking this out- you know he likes you in a more personal manner than just hybrid and caretaker. This is so much more than that already.

He just needs to give you a sign- and this might be it.

“Such as?” You ask him, clearly expecting something from him. And he knows what it is.

Wordlessly leaning in to kiss you-

An action that’s instantly returned, in a silent confession of love.

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“this is such a genius idea.” Jimin says, watching you effortlessly keep the young hybrids occupied in the waiting area, while Jungkook goes through patient after patient. “They’re so calm like this. No wonder you’ve become the most sought after doctor for young hybrids.” He tells the younger doctor, who smiles at the scene in the waiting room- all the usually very fidgety hybrids of different kinds listening to you telling them a story, visualized by some stuffed animals you’re holding.

“I couldn’t do it without her.” Jungkook simply says.

“Well, I’ll have to go start my shift in the ER, or Yoongi will rip my head off.” Jimin laughs, before he waves at you, and then Jungkook. “take care!” He says as he leaves-

And Jungkook smiles, as he waves his friend and former coworker goodbye.

"Take care.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook fanfic

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cordycepsfem · 3 days

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So my girlfriend and I went to our local Pride event today, one that I’ve written about previously here.

I did not want to go. This is because I am new-task-avoidant, and Pride was on one day of my usually tightly-hoarded weekend. But she asked that I go and meet some of her friends from her volunteering group so I said sure.

Meeting her friends was great - they’re fun and welcoming people from a variety of backgrounds, and I’m glad we did that. I hope we can spend time with them again soon.

Then we go out to the actual festival part. It is loud. There are people everywhere. This is unsurprising because it is a pride event in a major city. As people we are not fond of loud, crowded events… but we made the effort to get here so we’re going to go through it.

So we start walking.

As we make our way through the crowds I realize that the two of us are some of the more conservative-looking individuals there. We’re in T-shirts, shorts, baseball caps, functional shoes. There are many, many people in what we on here are all familiar with as “queer” costuming - it’s loud, it’s ugly, and it’s adorned with pins and stickers demanding attention. Many people have giant flags around their necks.

We see booths with obviously female individuals selling merchandise emblazoned with “f*ggot” doing a robust business. Lots of apparel and accessories that scream “I have an identity and I’m here to make it your problem!!” One booth has a pin showing a mastectomy-scarred chest reading “the no-titty committee” which causes me to let out a sad noise, because sure enough I’ve seen at least ten individuals with bare chests and some awful mastectomy scars wandering around. Some have glitter or fancy tape adoring their scars. Others have very obvious “dog ears” which look sloppy and painful.

(Note: I am not saying that having scars is awful. I am saying that the way the incisions were made was imprecise, leaving scars that are larger and that look worse as compared to, like, an actually good surgeon performing a regulated procedure with a standardized course, and not a “gender medicine professional.” This is obviously my own bias from doing research and from seeing others “in the wild” and should only be taken as my opinion. I have plenty of scars; the surgical ones all look clean and well-executed. These did not.)

We keep walking. There were at least two furry booths. Lots of people in puppy masks. Plenty of trans-focused groups.

We buy a few things at some of the more relevant booths and I stop to talk to one group about a job. My girlfriend says she’s ready to go, so we cut around the rest of the park and head for a nearby bookstore.

As we’re walking she takes my hand. “That pride wasn’t for us.”

“No.”

“I don’t know who it was for, but it wasn’t for us.”

I said “I told you so” in the kindest of voices but it was really just sad. This event and so many others happening this month are no longer for actual LGBT people. They are a celebration of the commodification of “queer” identity. Were there some booths there with people doing good work for those in our communities? Yes, without a doubt. But was there a bigger contingent of people there to give a “fuck you” to the world? Yep.

The first Pride events were to show straight people that LGBT people were not sexual deviants. Now the sexual deviants have booths at the Pride events.

I would just like a lesbian event. Just women. I’m willing to start it and run it. Girlfriend was so excited to go to Pride, and I think she left more disappointed than anything else. There are no longer a lot of “normies” at Pride. They have to be somewhere, so where?

#radblr #radical feminism #terfs do touch #terfblr #pride #I guess

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ilovemybishies87 · 3 months

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The Vacation from Hell - Chapter One

Inspired by @damntheyare's amazing fanart. I did end up changing a couple elements because I suck and did not realize who the cat and dog were supposed to be until after I had completed the chapter. Sorry, KeeKee and Razzle/Dazzle!

This will also be posted to AO3, along with all future chapters, once I have an account. Until then, enjoy!

*EDIT* Now posted to AO3!

Alastor wasn’t sure how he found himself in this situation. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. He had some semblance of an idea. The Princess of Hell was known for her harebrained projects, but none more harebrained than a hotel with the sole purpose of redeeming the lowliest of Hell’s sinners. It was ridiculous. Laughable!

But between the song she had belted out to the idea itself, he considered himself sold. Of course, she had no experience running a hotel. That wasn’t so much a flaw as it was a feature. He could only imagine relishing her failure once the futility of her goal dawned on her. Until then he would bide his time in the shadows—a most fitting place, if he said so himself!—playing his self-assigned role as co-manager.

There was only one, tiny problem: he had seriously underestimated how much the universe wanted to fuck him over.

______________________________

“I need to visit a hotel!” Charlie announced.

The ragtag band of guests and staff were lounging in the common room a few days after Sir Pentious’s pitiful attack on the hotel. All except Niffty, who had made it her mission to clean the place from top to bottom. Vaggie and Angel Dust sat next to each other on the sofa, scrolling their phones. Husk stood behind the counter at the bar, finishing his inventory of liquors for the night.

Alastor turned to Charlie standing on the opposite side of the room. Papers plastered the wall behind her, filled with all the ideas she hadn’t yet written off as futile. She seemed frozen in place while she waited for a response.

Eventually Angel Dust pulled his gaze from his phone long enough to give her a brief glance and laughed. “You live in a hotel!” A pair of arms made a sweeping motion around them, emphasizing his point. “Why do you need to visit one?”

Charlie shook her head. “I know that, Angel! I meant a thriving one!” she said, and her grin stretched wide. “One on Earth!”

Alastor raised a brow at her declaration. This time her statement did not go unnoticed. Vaggie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Angel Dust’s phone dropped onto his lap as he stared at her, incredulous. Even Husk stopped in the middle of his count, ears turned in the group’s direction.

“Hon,” said Vaggie, once the initial shock had worn off, “that sounds—”

“Like the best idea ever? I know!”

“Not what I was going to say,” Angel Dust muttered. He picked up his phone and started scrolling again.

“Just consider it field research!” said Charlie as she crossed the room, hardly able to contain her excitement. “Only for a couple of days, of course. I can’t leave the hotel vacant for long, in case a guest decides to check in.”

“But there are too many unknowns!” Vaggie said, throwing her hands in the air. “Have you ever been to Earth before? People don’t exactly look like they do here.”

“I could wear a disguise!”

Vaggie slapped a hand over her face. “Do you even know how to get there?”

“Not exactly,” Charlie said after a moment, deflated. “But surely someone knows the way!”

Alastor took the opportunity and made his way over to them. “Naturally!” His microphone materialized in his hand. “You needn’t worry about the where or the how, my dear. Nothing my magic can’t handle, not at all! I can get us there and back in a jiffy!”

Charlie stared up at him, hands clasped together. Her eyes practically shone. “Really?”

“Well,” he added, side eyeing Vaggie with a smirk, “maybe not all of us.”

Vaggie put her arm between him and Charlie, shielding her from the Radio Demon. “No way! Even if I thought you knew how to get there—which I don’t—”

“Well, I do.”

“And you do your little voodoo, so you guys blend in—”

“Not voodoo,” stated Alastor.

Vaggie ignored him. “I would never trust you alone with Charlie!”

Charlie looked between her and Alastor. “Vaggie, I don’t want to go without you either! But,” she said sheepishly, “he sort of has a point?”

“Excuse me?!” Vaggie took a step back, eyebrows furrowed.

“I'm just saying,” Charlie continued, wringing her hands, “I’m not thrilled leaving the hotel alone. But if someone stayed here . . . well, there’s no one I trust more than you.”

Vaggie sighed. “I appreciate it,” she said. “I really do! Still, I don’t trust him.” She glared at Alastor’s grinning face. “What’s the catch? You trying to use this to get Charlie to make a deal? I won’t let that happen!”

He couldn’t fault her for jumping to that conclusion. The thought certainly crossed his mind, albeit briefly. But the rewards far outweighed any inconveniences. A simple glamour would solve their . . . unconventional appearances. And while he didn’t particularly desire returning to Earth, the trip would be worth the despair the princess would face once she realized how much of a farce her little Hazbin Hotel truly was.

“Shame,” Alastor said, and flicked his claws. “But perish the thought! Consider this a sub-clause to our original agreement.”

“But why?” Vaggie demanded. “What’s in it for you?”

“You remember—”

She groaned. “Ugh . . .”

“The entertainment!” they said in unison, Vaggie less enthusiastically.

“Come on, Vaggie,” said Charlie. She placed her hands on the other woman’s shoulders. “We won’t be gone long. This trip is what the hotel needs for inspiration!”

“I don’t know. You really think you’ll be fine?” Vaggie glanced at Alastor. “Alone. With him.”

Charlie bit her lip. “It’s fine. Although,” she continued, hesitant, “I would feel a bit more comfortable with added company.”

“Tsk! Very well.” Normally Alastor wouldn’t cave to requests, but he would allow her this small victory. “If you must, we can take Niffty and Husk.”

Husk turned to the trio from his spot at the bar. “Who the fuck said I wanted to go?”

“A trip!” said Niffty, seeming to materialize from nowhere. “Will there be bad boys?”

“What about Angel Dust?” asked Vaggie, and pointed to the Spider Demon who remained silent during their entire exchange.

Angel Dust shrugged and got up from the sofa. He headed off to the staircase, calling back to the group, “Meh, no thanks. I did my time, thank you very much!”

“Then it’s settled!” Alastor wrapped his arm around Charlie, causing her to nearly tumble into him, while pointing his microphone to Husk, then Niffty. “The four of us will go to Earth to do a little ‘field research,’ as it were, while you”—he pointed to Vaggie next, who pushed the mic away— “stay with the hotel."

“I didn’t fucking agree to this!” said Husk, throwing his towel down.

Niffty ran up the stairs behind Angel Dust, laughing maniacally all the way. “How many knives should I bring?”

Vaggie put her head in her hands. “This is a bad idea. . .”

“Ohh, I can’t believe this is happening!” Charlie said, bouncing up and down. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Oh, there’s so much to plan! How do we make reservations? Where do we stay? What should I pack?” She turned to Alastor, suddenly serious. “Do I need to bring sunscreen?”

Alastor chuckled at her enthusiasm. “I’ll let you worry about those last two, my dear. Leave the rest to me! Everything will be ready by tomorrow morning.”

______________________________

The transportation spell took him all night to complete. There were slight alterations for the trip that made casting easier said than done. Part of the blame, in this regard, lay with him. Alastor knew that as time passed in Hell, so too had it passed on Earth. And he had no intentions of going to the Earth of the present.

He allowed himself a small shudder as he finalized the last bit of magic. If he was expending his precious energy he would take them to some place—some time—more civilized, more familiar. Perhaps he was tempting fate returning to his old stomping grounds. And sure, a hotel from times past might not be the most effective for Charlie’s particular goal. But considering the circumstances, she had no right to complain.

After a short breakfast the other five residents gathered back in the common room. Vaggie seemed more annoyed than usual, arms crossed over her chest as she stood by Angel Dust, sleep still in his eyes. Charlie had several bags by her side, including one oversized pink rolling suitcase. A smaller black suitcase was next to Niffty, which if Alastor had to guess was filled with various sharp instruments. Even Husk, despite his protests, had packed a worn leather bag that clinked when he placed it on the ground.

Alastor brought nothing; it wasn’t as if he couldn’t simply conjure what he needed. He did, however, end up forgoing his usual red blazer and shirt ensemble. The pants remained the same, but he decided a thinner white button-down and red waistcoat would be more manageable. Ironically, not even Hell could compare to the omnipresent heat—and humidity, oh the humidity!—of New Orleans.

“Did I pack enough?” Charlie asked, for once not in her usual attire. She donned a more casual pair of thin pink sweats, topped with a sweatshirt a few shades darker, decorated with hearts. She tugged on the bright orange and green purse strapped across her shoulder. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

Angel Dust eyed the bags around them. “It’s, what, two days? This should be good.”

“Six, actually,” said Alastor.

"WHAT?!" Vaggie shrieked.

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “With the energy I'll be using transporting all of us, and bags, not to mention the glamours—”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You can’t possibly expect me to use my valuable resources for a couple of days, my dear,” Alastor said, not to Vaggie, but to Charlie, who was currently taking inventory of what she packed. “That shouldn’t be a problem, right? It’ll give you more time to get the full ‘human hotel’ experience.”

“Umm,” Charlie said. “It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but you have a point. With six days I’m sure to get the full hotel experience, and then some! I did have a question, though.”

“I have many questions,” Vaggie interrupted with a raised hand.

Alastor shook his head. “Manners! Charlie was first.”

“You mentioned glamours. I assume for you, me, Niffty and Husk,” said Charlie, not missing a beat. “How do they look? I mean, how are we going to blend in on Earth?”

“Why don’t I show you instead?”

Summoning his radio mic, Alastor pointed to the ground. Intricate symbols glowed beneath Charlie’s feet, the physical manifestation of the spell. A mirror sprouted from beneath the floor in front of her and a wave of green light washed over her form.

“Charlie!” Vaggie reached out. She turned to Alastor and pulled out her spear, pointing it at his face. “What did you do to her, you piece of—!”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “Oh, relax.” He pushed the weapon away as the light faded revealing Charlie, no worse for the wear. He turned to the blonde-haired demon. “See for yourself!”

The glamour for her had been simple enough. Her skin, including her black-stained lips, shifted from a porcelain white to a more human peach tone. Unfortunately, her most standout feature, her rose-red eyes, turned an inconspicuous shade of brown.

Pity. Red suited her so much better.

Her attire remained unchanged. Something about altering her clothing felt wrong, almost too intimate. He figured they could attain more period appropriate clothing once they arrived.

Charlie leaned in close to the mirror, taking in her new form. “No one will suspect a thing!” She glanced behind, where Alastor stood watching. “What about you?”

The same symbols appeared beneath his feet. He had struggled somewhat with his own appearance. Unlike Charlie, who—despite being Hellborn—more-or-less resembled a human, his own demon form was anything but. The claws, the teeth, the deer-like ears: they all had to go.

He went back and forth on how close his glamour should be to his former life. In the end he went the simple route and replicated how he looked while alive. Dark brown hair replaced his usual striking red and black strands, the style short and unremarkable. His eyes were the same dark shade as his hair, but he allowed himself a pair of red sunglasses in its place.

“What do you think, my dear?” He bowed ever so slightly. “Convincing enough?”

Charlie’s eyes widened, but it was difficult for him to decipher her expression. She met his eyes but averted her gaze just as fast. “Yes. Is that . . . how you were when you were human?”

“Yes, indeedy! The clothes, not so much.”

Angel whistled low. “Wow, the strawberry pimp is not so . . . strawberry.”

Vaggie shook her head, unimpressed. “What about Niffty and Husk?” she asked. “How are you having them blend in?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll approve the forms I’ve chosen,” said Alastor with a smirk.

Niffty nodded so quickly she nearly lost her balance. “Whatever you choose!”

Husk grumbled a response that no one, not even Alastor, could understand.

“Well, we’ve wasted enough time already!” the Radio Demon replied. “We really should be on our way!”

“Wait—!” said Vaggie.

Alastor tapped the ground three times with the end of the microphone. Four scarlet circles, inscribed with intricate scripts, appeared beneath his and Charlie’s feet, as well as everyone’s baggage. The circles appeared under Niffty and Husk as well, along with the same lime symbols as the glamour.

“Do take good care of the place while we’re gone, you two!” Alastor called out as he faded from sight. “It would be a pity if there was nothing for Charlie to return to.”

“I didn’t volunteer for nothing!” exclaimed Angel Dust.

"I have every faith in you, Vaggie!” Charlie said, her voice taking a far-off tone as she also disappeared. “We’ll be back before you know it!”

Vaggie turned to Charlie. “Please, be careful up there! And, whatever you do, don’t—” She tried grabbing her hand but found nothing. Whatever warnings she intended to pass along were never heard.

As quiet as a breath, the group had disappeared.

______________________________

They were definitely in New Orleans. Tiny balconies overlooked the street from the second floors of the buildings surrounding them. His clothes clung to his skin, soaking in every drop of moisture it could hold. Alastor could even make out the smell of spices of Cajun cuisine from a restaurant nearby.

But something was wrong.

An oppressive buzz of electrical energy surrounded him, threatening to overwhelm his own magic. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the hum of static in the air—he had been a radio show host, after all, and quite adept with the technology of his time—but it was nothing like this. Smog, as thick as Hell’s and almost as noxious, spewed from automobiles unlike the ones he remembered. There were more of them too, almost as many vehicles as there were people.

Something had gone horribly wrong.

Space was simple enough to traverse. Moving from one physical point to another was as easy as a snap of his fingers. Or, in this case, a few taps of his mic. Time, on the other hand, was much trickier. It wasn’t linear like one would imagine, but almost a gordian knot, twisting and turning into itself, with present, future and past all jumbled together until it was hard to distinguish between the three.

Alastor found Charlie a few paces away, no worse for wear. The bags were neatly by her side. “You all right, my dear?”

“I should’ve asked what weather to dress for before I started packing,” she said, fanning herself. Even with the thin material, she was clearly regretting her choice of outfit. She might be accustomed to the heat of Hell, but the humidity was something else. “At least our luggage made it. But what about Husk and Niffty? I don’t see them anywhere!”

“Meow!”

They looked down. A black cat with rather unusual ears for the average feline glared at them, at him more specifically.

“Why, Husk, my good fellow!” Alastor said, partly to distract himself from his growing headache. “Why the long face?”

“Oh my!” exclaimed Charlie. She knelt to pick him up. To Alastor’s surprise, she did not end up getting scratched. “What happened to Husk?!”

Alastor waved dismissively. “Not to worry! This is simply the result of his glamour.”

“Yip!”

A small black and tan mutt nosed his shoe, tail wagging so fast it might fly off. Feathered ears perked at the sound of his voice. Alastor’s grin widened as he scooped up the animal and held it under one arm.

“I knew I could count on you to stay close by, Niffty.”

“Niffty!?” Charlie bit her lip, but he could see the corners of her mouth turn up, as if torn between disbelief and excitement. “I mean, I guess this disguises them.” An alarmed look crossed her face. “They won’t stay this way permanently, right?”

“Of course not, my dear! Probably.”

“Al!”

“The spell will revoke once we return to Hell, glamours and all,” said Alastor, rubbing his fingers to his temples.

During their exchange he caught a glimpse of some passersby taking notice of their group. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t mind putting them in their place, but right now he was not in the mood. Between the drain on his magic and the unpleasant realization of when he was, he wanted nothing more than privacy.

“We probably should get to our hotel to check in.”

With Niffty still under his arm, Alastor grabbed Husk’s bag and placed it on top of the black luggage. He also managed to situate the extra bags Charlie packed—why did she have to pack so much?—onto the larger suitcase she had dragged with her. He regretted his decision to turn the two into animals. An extra pair of hands would’ve been welcome.

“Well, my dear, ready to go? I would offer a hand, but—”

“Oh, no! Don’t worry about it! We have our hands full with these two.” Charlie juggled Husk awkwardly as she reached for her luggage. “Lead the way!”

He took a deep breath, strengthening his resolve.

“Hey, Alastor.”

The Radio Demon looked back. His grin nearly slipped from his face; his throbbing head momentarily forgotten. She was clearly struggling, suitcase veering off course. Husk had clawed into her sweatshirt and climbed his way up to perch on her shoulder. And yet she smiled, a smile brighter than the sun beating down on them.

The shades covering his eyes were not enough to protect him.

“This is unbelievable,” said Charlie. “You’re amazing!”

She could not know. She could never know. That the great Radio Demon had made an error of this magnitude, of this caliber. She had to believe this was all part of his plan, for this trip she desired, that he foolishly granted.

Alastor gritted his teeth and forced his grin even wider.

This was going to be Hell on Earth.

#hazbin hotel #radiobelle #charlastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie morningstar #chalastor #charlie x alastor #alastor x charlie #platonic chaggie #maybe one sided chaggie at most

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kangals · 2 months

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what does the grooming process look like for stellina and kep?

my 'process" for grooming is very much what i would call 'poor man's dog training':

get a silicone lick-mat

apply peanut butter very generously

slap that bad boy onto the front of the fridge/kitchen appliances at dog eye-level

groom while they're distracted

i start this process day 1 as puppies and continue it through their whole lives. should i actually be putting in the effort to actually train them to stand still and quietly for grooming without the need for food distraction? yes. do i? no i'm lazy.

or if you're asking about like, what grooming i'm actually doing:

hair: i do an all-over brush at least once a week (should do twice but again, lazy and not needed). takes like 20-30 mins. my 'schedule' for brushing is basically this:

red areas (behind ears, arm/legpits) are high-friction and very prone to matting. these you have to brush out at least once a week, no exceptions, or you will get mats. this is also very sensitive skin so it's good to desensitize them to brushing as much as you can.

yellow areas should be brushed at least once weekly to comb out any tangles and debris, but are less prone to matting.

and then the rest of them i'll brush through but that's about it, that part pretty much never tangles.

i normally just use a pin brush and slicker brush, and a metal comb for the yellow/red areas. sometimes an undercoat rake if they're very sheddy.

collies are 'dry' dogs - they don't really drool, and they don't have the oily waterproof coat that breeds like a lab or hound does, so they're naturally low-odor without much of a 'doggy' smell. i'll bathe every 4-8 weeks depending on what the weather's like and if their skin seems like it's getting cruddy. 2-3 times a year i'll take them to a groomer to have them do a 'deshed' treatment where they really blow out the undercoat, because this makes a huge difference in keeping them comfortable in the heat, and in how much hair i have to vacuum.

for stellina i've also been getting an outline trim (shortening up the yellow areas on the pic with long feathering) in spring and fall, it just keeps things cleaner and it makes a huge difference in the amount of time i have to spend brushing.

feet: i dremel nails every week, same PB-mat method as with brushing. every week is probably overkill but i think it's good desensitization and also i hate long nails on dogs so i'm a bit anal about it. collies tend to get long hair on the feet/between the pads, some people like the 'grinch feet' look but personally i fucking hate it so every 4-6 weeks i just take round-tip scissors and clean them up.

other: the rest i do as needed, e.g. if i see any wax/debris in the ears i'll do a clean with OTC ear cleaner and a cotton ball. one of stellina's eyes tends to be teary, so about once a week i take a warm washcloth and wipe them down to prevent tear stains. and then i vacuum my house weekly, sometimes every 2 weeks if it's not too bad.

honestly i'm writing a lot but what i've listed here is way less than 1 hour a week on average, collies IMO are not particularly high-grooming needs dogs (compared to, say, a doodle or OES that needs daily brushing and regular professional grooming). i find the grooming and hair totally manageable. i honestly prefer dealing with long hair because it tends to clump together on the ground, rather than short hairs that fly and scatter into everything. people tend to see roughs and go 'oh no way too much hair' but like, it is super manageable as long as you've got half an hour at some point each week to brush your dog. i'm very obsessive about my pets being 'neat' and i do fine.

sorry for the incredibly overly-long answer to your very simple ask lmao

#long post

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no-see-um-incorrect · 10 months

Text

I’m in the mood for David. It feels like a David Shaw kind of day. Here’s some Davey and Angel headcannons some sweet, some kinda sad.. maybe even spicy.

: after their first date, he went into work with the biggest smile Asher and Milo have seen on him since before his dad passed away. He obviously denied it. And didn’t tell them about angel until the relationship got serious

: The first time they saw each other shirtless, they both kind of stopped for a minute, and just stared in aw of the other person

: David will sometimes “thank the universe” for bringing them two together……little does he know he’s actually thanking someone (💋 A forehead kiss to caelum)

: one time angel got into a small car accident. we’re talking nobody was hurt just minor damage to both cars. But the way David was acting you would think it was life-threatening. He could barely sleep. He would cling to angel for days after. overall just in the panic zone.

: his D!ck is BIG

: he has piercings he just doesn’t put them in, unless it’s a special occasion. Both for professionalism and so they don’t snag on things

: Asher called Angel “Pack Queen”(queen, being a gender neutral term in this case) and now on occasion, David will call Angel his queen (he kinda joking. kinda not)

: David likes to gently brag to angel, about how just his presence and name can scare the shit out of people. (take my poor Sam for example)

: angel will have David bend down acting like they’re trying to whisper something in his ear….. when in reality, they’re just trying to look down his shirt (get a peek at the man titties ya know)

: David sometimes gets nightmares about his dad’s accident and when he wakes up, he’s in a bit of a panic and Angel helps him through it.

“I know baby… I know…”

“there’s nothing you could’ve done Davey”

“our brains make us spiral into 1 million hypotheticals. What we could’ve done, what we could’ve done differently. But…. it was out of your control”

: angel has spent months trying to talk David into getting a pet. But it all comes down to the same thing.

“would it be weird for a werewolf to adopt a dog?

“we’re not getting a dog angel”

“Milo‘s mate needed some help with something so I went over to their house and saw Milo‘s cat aggro….. he’s really sweet and fluffy…”

“angel if you want to get a cat, be my guest, but you’re not going to catch me cleaning its litter box”

Let’s just say they’re still working on an agreement

: their contact names for each each other

😏Davey💙 & little snot💘 respectfully

: angel will send a suggestive light on clothing (wearing almost nothing but one of David’s hoodies) photo to David while he’s at work…….he knows he can’t leave work…… and so does Angel. So round five minutes later, Angel will get a text.

“You are so DONE When I get home”

: their favorite Disney movie to watch together is Hercules

: when David was talking to the other pack members about their treatment of Milo. Angel had their ear up to the door. so if Milo doesn’t give sweetheart a play-by-play angel will.

That’s all for right now. Hope you guys enjoyed. Forgive me if there’s any typos, my glasses are STILL BROKEN

#writing #incorrect quotes #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted headcanons #redacted incorrect quotes #redacted david #redacted angel #these two make me want to cry #I know there are some hard-core David lovers out there but this is my first time writing anything for him. Please be nice.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

Note

Im so happy your write for Hesh!!! Could I request Hesh and reader who was training to be a ballerina before ODIN and became a nurse because she wanting to help others? I love writing so much!!!!

Dancing With Scalpels

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: It's strange, maybe you'll have to thank Hesh's dog for breaking his ankle - otherwise, you'd have never met him.

WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: Broken bone, mentions of death, but mostly fluff

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You hum as you organize your desk, taking up papers in your hands and sliding them under the metal holder of your clipboard with a clack of material. The medical ward was slow today, and while that was a good thing, it left you with little to do besides paperwork and re-cleaning your space.

Glancing over your own handwriting as you carefully place the clipboard back down on your desk, you sigh and stretch your arms above your head. You listen to your bones crack before dropping them, eyes sliding around until they finally land on the picture, which sits on the tabletop like a silent reminder.

It’s been about five years since ODIN struck, since the world shifted and broke, but you still find it in yourself to look back on the past with fondness. The images of your troupe, all dressed up in flowy finery and posing in your pointe shoes, were a deep comfort to you.

Most of them were dead you knew, yet in that image, they still lived and breathed—had the sway of their feet and the grace of their arms to display to an awaiting crowd. Their smiles had never faded. As you stare at that picture, bodies trapped in time, you hear the stomp of booted feet coming in from your open door; ears perking and attention zapped away.

The soft smile on your lips disappears, a sheen of professionalism coming back like a curtain over a stage. You blink and latch onto the shadow of a man who limps slowly into the view of the opening. He’s about to pass by, a large grimace on his stubbled face, before you call to him.

“Sir?” Your feet take you out from the desk, quickly skirting around the chair before you’re about three feet from the tall individual. “Are you alright?”

The man is in his late twenties, burly and strong with wide shoulders and the tapered waist of an athletic build. He’s wearing recon gear atop a gray jacket, staps and guards interlocked like the fingers of lovers while he struggles to properly place his left foot on the floor.

Wisps of brown hair stick out from under a black beanie. It looks like he’d stopped at the armory first, coming here after dropping off his weapons.

The stranger’s green eyes blink at you, the tightness of hidden pain stuck in the lines near his pulled lips. His strong jaw works, pulling a nonchalant smile that looks more like a poorly done wince.

“Hey,” he clears his throat and has his hands clenched at his side. “Sorry about barging in, there any nurses available right now?”

“You’re looking at one,” you tilt your head to motion inside of your room, hand coming up to rest on the wooden frame of the door. “Do you need help walking?”

“Nah,” a wiry chuckle, gloved hand waving in dismissal. “I got here alright, I think a few more steps won't—”

His limp foot catches on his good one as he turns, and with a panicked widening of his gaze, the brunette stumbles as a sharp noise of alarm echoes. Your eyes widen. Before he can slam his face into the ground and create more problems, you dash forward and loop your arms around his waist, his gear digging into your scrubs. You grunt and take the full weight of him for a moment before the injured man snaps out a hand to the doorframe and quickly struggles back to his feet.

You stare and watch his cheeks go red, his eyes darting away with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Ah…sorry about that, Sweetheart.” You huff and cross your arms.

“Quite the show for ‘I think I’ll be just fine.’” A flash of a smirk goes across his square jaw.

“Well, maybe your beauty just made me lightheaded.” At your unimpressed stare, he shakes his head and questions, “That bad?”

“Very,” you joke, smiling and rolling your eyes. “C’mon, let’s get you looked at before you end up breaking your nose, Soldier.”

“Sounds like a plan, Ma’am.” You hook an arm around his waist and let him lean on you, his limb resting along the span of your shoulders and his injured leg weakly trying to help you along. Halfway to the examination table, he grunts out, “Name’s Hesh by the way—don’t think we’ve met before.”

You smile and say your name. “Transferred in from Dallas two weeks ago. Was told you needed more nurses here after a Federation attack near the Wall.”

“Then you were told correct, thanks for stepping up.” He’s set down with a huff and a grimace, his eyes swimming with annoyance at his leg. “Damn thing.”

You turn and wash your hands in the sink, slipping on sterile gloves as Hesh undoes his laces.

“Sorry for droppin’ in like this, I tried to play it off but I think it’s broken.” You look over your shoulder and tense—the pale skin of his ankle was a deep black and blue, and the foot was somewhat twisted to the side.

“Well, shit,” you curse and Hesh blinks up at you sheepishly, sending a stiff smile. “It’s good you came by when you did. What happened?”

The man’s hand goes to run over the back of his neck. He seems highly embarrassed about something.

“Ah, well,” he plays off a small twitch of his lips, “Riley, my K-9, he, uh…he managed to dart after a hostile before I could see him. Shoved me right to my ass and down a ravine in the process, actually.”

You have to put your wrist to your mouth to stifle a giggle, kneeling down to gently grab onto the affected limb.

Hesh takes in a tiny breath as you gently move the appendage, grumbling through a strained smile. “That funny, Doll?”

“Well,” you easily detail, “all I’ll say is that I’m sure it was something to see firsthand.”

“Tell that to Logan, my brother wouldn’t shut his mouth about it all while draggin’ me back. You try listenin’ to him while you’re half passed out—that was even worse than the pain.” You hum, chuckling.

This Hesh character was quite the casual talker, conversation with him came easily. You touch the skin of his ankle and quietly apologize when he hisses, noticing the swelling of flesh and sighing. Moving it from side to side and asking him if he’d broken his ankle before.

He answered in an affirmative—playing football in high school.

“Sorry to say this, but you’re right, Hesh, definitely broken. I don’t need to see an X-ray to know that.” He groans lowly. “Let’s get this all sorted and get you out of here, hm?”

There’s a long sigh.

“...Yes, Ma’am.”

Over the course of hours, you take various X-rays and scans, looking for the point of most contention and finding it in the form of a break in the lower tibia; it was clean, luckily for him. No bone shards or anything of that sort.

“I’m beggin’ to know if I need surgery, Sweetheart.” Green eyes lock with yours as you push him back into your office, the wheelchair squeaking under him. You smile gently at a few other nurses who pass—they nod back with a teasing smile at the man below you. “I’m on the edge of my seat, here.”

“I’m not the doctor, Hesh,” you chuckle, tilting your head. “I legally can’t tell you that.”

“Legally?” His brow raises. “C’mon, the world fell apart—there’s no Risk Management anymore.”

“Are you sure Riley didn’t intentionally push you over the edge of that ravine?” Your eyes narrow, a joke in your eye.

A slow smile grows on Hesh’s lips. “That hurt, Ma’am.”

You scoff and shake your head, wheeling him into the previous room and leaving him to go to the paperwork on your desk. Grabbing it, you open your top drawer and deposit it away for another time. Gliding up beside you, Hesh sighs and glances around as you tidy up.

His eyes find the framed picture on your desk.

“Whoa,” the brunette utters, locking onto your form in the middle of the group. You blink and look to the side, noticing his staring. Face going hot, you raise a brow in question. “That you?”

Hesh wheels slightly closer, leaning forward but respectfully not touching any of your things. You restrain a wide smile at his intrigue.

“Why else would I have a framed picture of ballerinas on my desk, Hesh? Of course, it’s me.” You pick up the frame and tilt it his way, resting your hip on the side of your desk as he takes it gently, delicate with your belongings. “Two years before ODIN—we were in Europe for a competition.”

“Shit,” he mutters, sliding you an awed glance. “You must be really good.”

“Was,” you laugh, shrugging. Hesh confusingly looks up while you explain the best you can. “It’s been so long, plus I gave it up when everything went down; went to get my qualifications to be a nurse and help out.” Hesh looks a bit sad at that, sneaking a glance back down at your bright smile in the picture.

“Looked like you loved it,” he commented, handing the frame back after a moment of thought. “I’m sorry.”

You’re slightly taken aback by the apology, oddly touched by his sudden seriousness about this. After a slow inhale, you hum. “It’s alright, Hesh. That’s just life—it’ll take us places even if we want to go or not. We just have to make the best of it.”

“You’re happy, though, Sweetheart,” he asks, eyes not faltering, “right?”

It’s not a feeling of uncertainty that makes you hesitate, it’s the way he asks you so genuinely; honest with his intentions. Rarely have you had people—soldier or civilian—come in here and speak to you like this. You stare with slightly-parted lips.

A bashful smile blooms on your lips.

“When I’m helping patients like you, Hesh, yes. Yes, I’m happy.” The man stares a moment longer before he clears his throat and glances down, contact broken; a crimson sheen infects his face.

“Good. That’s good.” Even if he’s not looking at you, a grin still twitches his lips; making your face go heated and warm with something else entirely. Hands stuttering over your frame, you put it down where it was and lick your lips, smiling at the tabletop.

When the doctor comes in, you let Hesh speak and pipe in with anything you needed to include, the air suddenly tinged with something between you and the soldier that you can’t put words to. It’s so potent even the doctor sends you a raised brow on the walk out. You avert your eyes and itch at your cheek.

“Least I’ll be able to get back out in the field quicker,” Hesh sighs, taking off his beanie for a moment before itching at the top of his head. “If I’d of had to go under, Logan would never let me hear the end of it.”

“You and your brother sound like you’re constantly nagging at each other,” you huff.

“Shit, what else are we good for?” The both of you share a laugh, eyes crinkling. There’s a moment of intimate silence before Hesh splays his hands and speaks.

“I’m gettin’ a splint, then?” You internally curse yourself as Hesh’s lids narrow on you, head tilting with a deep smirk. The trance is broken.

“Until the swelling goes down,” your head nods, fingers motioning to his ankle. “Then a cast for twelve to sixteen weeks.”

“Hm,” Hesh looks away and thins his lips, seriousness slipping back into his expression.

Staring, you ask carefully, concerned, “Hesh?”

“No,” he shakes his head, the smirk coming back as if it never left, “No, it’s just that’s a long time to not be able to take you out, is all.”

Your face blanks, heart all but stopping in your chest. The man watches you closely, slowly slipping his beanie back on his head with an innocent smile.

“Too forward?”

“N-no,” you stutter, face heating to an alarming degree. “No, I think that one was just right.”

Shaking your head quickly you brush down your top and listen to Hesh’s bright chuckles as you gather your bearings. It’s after you sigh and look back into those greens that you laugh and utter, “I think I’d be willing to wait.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your face can’t stop smiling at the teasing tilt to his words. “Now, I’d hate to make you sit around that long, Sweetheart.” “Hesh, I’m agreeing to go out on a date with you, take it or leave it,” you huff in exasperation, staring at him with a loose expression.

His eyes lighten, the stain of happiness leaking through.

“You proud of yourself?”

Hesh looks smug, but promptly states, “Didn’t think I’d get this far, if I’m bein’ honest.”

You press a hand to your mouth to stifle your loud laugh.

As promised, fifteen months later, there’s a knock on your office door—you stand and think nothing, opening the barrier only to find a large bouquet of flowers and the man holding them up to you.

Your face softens and Hesh returns a warm hum of greeting.

“Hope you’ll forgive me for bein’ late, Doll,” his eyes crinkle. “Was learnin’ how to dance. C’mon, I got some moves to show off—we’ll get you back in those pointe shoes in no time.”

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #cod ghosts x reader #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty x you #x female reader #cod fanfiction #hesh walker x female reader #hesh walker x reader #david hesh walker #hesh walker #david walker #call of duty x reader #cod x female reader #x fem!reader

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leupagus · 10 months

Text

Working title is "Aziraphale is going to get a good grade in sex, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve"

"So!" Aziraphale said, plopping himself down in the chair opposite. "Urophilia."

Crowley glowered at him from behind the safety of his third-best sunglasses and his mug.* He hadn't slept last night — he rarely wanted to, these days — yet it was somehow still too early for this. "No," he attempted.

"I know we neither of us go in for the more, er, granular human bodily functions," said Aziraphale, without even the slightest hint of listening. Crowley took a certain amount of comfort in the fact that he still found this annoying as — well, his former employer's residence. He'd worried, in a vague sort of way, that if Aziraphale came back and they worked things out, became a proper us, that he'd start thinking everything Aziraphale did was wonderful. But even true love had its limits, thank — well, his other former employer's residence. "Did I ever tell you, I tried defecating once? Terribly awkward business, I had to make an anus and everything. But Cicero was very obliging in teaching me about the stick."**

Conversations with Aziraphale tended to fall into one of three categories. Either he was humming away in his default cheeriness, in which case he'd burble happily along with whatever Crowley said for hours on end; or he was in a pet about something, in which case he'd be drier than the desert outside Eden and Crowley'd be lucky to escape without injury to his pride or person. Or he was like this, in which case Crowley's participation was purely decorative.

Still, they were getting some stares. Nina hadn't started tutting yet, but she would do soon. "I'm not pissing on you," he said, firm. "And vice versa."

"Oh, all right," Aziraphale huffed, pulling out his spectacles and wrapping the temple tips fussily around his ears. He peered down at the magazine he'd apparently brought with him; even from here, Crowley could see some illustrations. They were… illustrative.

"What," he said with the conviction that he would regret it, "Is that?"

"It's 'Kinks and Fetishes: An A to Z Guide,'" Aziraphale said, handing it over with all the glee of a dog showing off a rotted tennis ball it had found in the back garden. "I've been doing more research, you see. Apparently, there's all sorts of sex we could be getting up to. I truly had no idea there were so many—" he waved his other hand around vaguely. "Configurations."

"Does Glamour have a print edition anymore?" Crowley asked, thumbing through the pages. There were a lot of illustrations.

"Not as such," Aziraphale admitted. "But Muriel found it for me on the World Wide Web—"

"Don't call it that," Crowley sighed.

"—and you know how I dislike reading off of those… screens," he continued, making a moue of distaste. "So I made my own proof copy, as it were."

Under "Tentacles," there was a stern reminder that you shouldn't have sex with octopuses.*** "Angel," he started, then paused. "Vicarphilia?"

"I thought it was something to do with priests and things, but apparently not," Aziraphale said, leaning over the table to point out the next one. "What about whipping?"

"No fetishes that I could've done professionally," Crowley decided firmly, shutting the magazine. He waved it away, out to the Tadfield Library where Anathama would probably find it and laugh for a week, then try at least a half-dozen of them out on poor Newt.

* Nina had set one aside for him after a while, since he didn't mind the permanent stains that had developed along the inside. "Pretty sure those are scorchmarks, actually," she'd complained. "On the outside. What did you do to it?"

** Roman public toilets were aptly named — men would gather to have a bowel movement and a chat, cleaning themselves off with a sponge on the end of a length of wood. Hence the phrase, "Getting the wrong end of the stick," something decidedly less pleasant when taken out of its metaphor.

*** Accompanied by a picture of a young woman doing exactly that.

#good omens fic #what if I skip over the getting together and go straight to the ridiculousness #ineffable motherfuckers #also I know that in the book Aziraphale is an early adopter of computers #but the tv show has him doing his accounts by hand plus the joke of having Muriel being the millennial computer tech is funny to me #ficcage of interest #good grade in sex fic

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lucifersimp333 · 1 year

Text

MC Dyes Their Hair

Just silly little head canons since I colored my hair again recently.

Lucifer

~ Doesn't mind that you color your hair, why would he? Just please try not to get color on the sink.

~ Will help you if you ask, will properly grab a tinting brush and comb and get the spots you missed.

~ Will get a rag and wipe away the color on your skin around your hairline, ears, and neck.

~ Will get slightly annoyed if you stain the tub. Just clean it up, MC.

~ Will always compliment your new hair color and how great it looks on you.

~Don't ask if you can color his hair because his answer will always be NO.

Mammon

~ Will help if you ask him, but he'll make such a mess.

~Screw the tinting brush, he's using his bare hands to slap the color on for you.

~Will get so much color on your forehead and ears, but will have so much fun helping you.

~ Wants to match with you so he'll take some hair color and put some on the tips of his hair.

~ Will totally deny it though, The Great Mammon just wanted to try something new. Why would he want to match with a human? (He totally wanted to match he's lying.)

Asmo

~ He asked you if he can help with your hair. He loves getting close to you and love anything beauty related. It's a win win!

~ Will color your hair flawlessly. He puts cream around your hairline and ears so no color stains, uses the best color safe shampoo and conditioner, and will even blow-dry and style your hair for you after!

~ I hope you're photo ready, because he's going to take hundreds of photos with you and your new color. His favorite human just looks So beautiful, how can he not?!

~Will make sure EVERYONE in the HOL knows you colored your hair, and will NOT leave the room until they complement you at least once.

~ Will constantly gawk over your new hair and play with it.

Beel

~ Will help if you ask but will have no idea what he's doing.

~If you have scented hair color, he will give one a taste, don't be surprised if his lips are stained a crazy color.

~ Definently didnt use gloves, hands will be stained for days.

~ His strong fingers feel so good massaging your scalp when shampooing your hair. <3

~ If there's color in the sink, he'll clean it for you. He'll try cleaning the stains he main on your forehead too.

~ Absolutely loves your new color, you got him blushing over here!

Levi

~ He'll help you but you need to wait until he finishes the level he's on.

~Will 100% try to convince you color your hair like Ruri-Chan.

~ He realizes he's going to hair to get close to your face, he becomes a nervous wreck. Blushing, shaking, sweating, be patient with him he's trying.

~ You have to wash your own hair though, he almost died when he accidentally brushed his finger against your cheek, give him a minuet to reboot from that.

~ When you're on your knees bent over the bathtub with your booty in the air this man is SWEATING. He turns around and looks the other way so he doesn't faint right then and there.

~ LOVES your new hair color and has you try on some cosplay outfits. With the hair color you look just like the one character from the anime That One Time My Dog Bit Me And I Became A Sexy Goblin Dog Succubus And Took Over The World! You need to try this cosplay on, MC!

Satan

~ May huff a little when you ask to help, but he can't say no to you.

~ Does the best out of all the other brothers tbh. He's neat, precise, get ZERO hair color on you anywhere. He uses gloves, the brush, hair clips. You start to question if he's a professional or not.

~ Will chat your ear off about a book he recently finished while doing your hair.

~ His slender fingers dance around your scalp when washing your hair, practically putting you to sleep.

~ Will towel dry your hair and brush it for you.

~ Will compliment you like a gentleman, and then go read a book on the hair coloring process so he's better prepared for next time.

Belphie

~ Will 100000% bitch and moan when you ask him to help. When you tell him never mind and that you'll find someone else, he bitches some more saying he was only kidding. ( He wants to help, he's just smart ass we all know this.)

~ Kind of rough? Not enough to hurt you, but enough to raise an eyebrow at

~ Lowkey having the time of his life, but he wont show it.

~ Makes a little bit of a mess on your skin, he wont clean it though.

~ " accidentally" dropped a little dollop on your chest and conveniently that's the only mess he cleaned on your skin.

~ Wants to take a quick nap on your lap while the color is sitting on your hair. Wake him up when it's time to wash it.

~ Will compliment your new hair color with sleepy eyes. All this hard work made him tired, now to repay him you need to nap with him. ( Use your own pillow MC, please don't stain his)

#obeyme #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfic #obeymelucifer #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me satan

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mydeerfellow · 4 months

Text

Ye Mighty, Lay Down Your Arms

synopsis:

Rosie, as a professional fixer-upper, just wants to fix up Alastor. Inside AND out. Alastor just wants a few stitches, not the Spanish Inquisition. Vox just wants to play N64

AO3 link

It took a special sort of stupidity to cross into the Cannibal Colony with an open wound, where even the youngest child had a nose as good as any dog, and the populace was prone to swarming any potential meal. Yet, Alastor didn’t have much choice, and so he hurried his pace as well as he could without spraying blood everywhere, which would be problematic on a number of levels.

Truthfully, the wound itself was something Alastor probably could have handled on his own with a mirror and steady hands. The problem was his current lack of steady hands, and the fact that he couldn’t look at the damage without hearing his own heart pounding in his ears.

The problem was that Alastor did not want to be alone at the moment, but he also didn’t want to put on airs for the rest of the night in front of a group of ecstatic fools.

He needed to exist without a facade for a few hours to lick his wounds and compose himself, and for that, he needed Rosie.

“Ugh, I smelled you coming from half a mile. What are you doing, walking in the rain? You and the drama, I swear.” The door opened before Alastor had reached it, and he didn’t protest when he was hauled into the darkened emporium by the elbow, then led diligently up to the living quarters above. “In, in, come on. Take off your jacket, I’ll get it cleaned.” He was herded through the familiar-feeling kitchen and straight into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of some fresh hands sitting half-chopped next to a stock pot. “Now, don’t be a baby.” Rosie scolded preemptively.

Alastor tried to ask why, but he was interrupted when she yanked his dress shirt off his skin, peeling the half-dry blood that had been holding things together. He uttered a muffled shout and pulled back, which apparently fit Rosie’s definition of a baby, based on her thunderous expression.

Defeated without a word, Alastor sat on the edge of the old-style tub, balancing a bit precariously on the rim of it. He stared at the ceiling, practically relishing in dropping the act, even for an hour. Of course he continued to smile, but it was flat and unaffected. After a few seconds, he blinked hard and refocused on Rosie. “Hello.” He laughed sheepishly.

“Hello to you, sweetheart!” She replied warmly, raising her brows. “I guess it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” As always, Rosie didn’t pry, even though she was clearly interested and had a stake in the whole venture. Alastor loved her for it.

Alastor flexed his fingers and uttered a laugh that was more of a heavy tsk. “It did, as far as I can tell. I had hoped it would.” He replied curtly, uncomfortably aware that even his voice was flat and tired. The radio effect was too hard to keep up when his body was trying to stitch itself back together and the primary catalyst of his power was in pieces.

“Alastor, darling, only you would pick a fight with an angel and have the absolute gall to come back alive and still cry about not winning.” Rosie laughed. “Is that all this is? Embarrassment?” She poked playfully, and Alastor felt his ire rising like a viper, catching a light in his eyes even as he caught himself before snapping at Rosie, who stilled immediately. She gave a sympathetic smile. “Not just that, then. Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?”

Both were plausible, because Rosie was better at putting feelings into words than Alastor was. Whenever he tried, he ended up flustered, or trying desperately to dance around talking about the actual issue.

“I can’ttell you.” Alastor said flatly. There was a crack in the ceiling that was going to drive him to madness.

Rosie tutted. “Ugh, of course you can’t. Always with the secrets. And the mystery.”

There was a fork in the road that Alastor hadn’t anticipated. He had the opportunity to blissfully brush Rosie’s questions off as he usually did, allowing her to believe it was simply for the sake of drama. Or this was one of the few opportunities he would ever get to confide… withoutconfiding at all, thus maintaining the damnable deal. “I can’t tell you.” He repeated.

“Yes, you said that.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“I know, sweethe— oh.” He didn’t bother looking at her face, mostly because he didn’t want to see her expression. It was humiliating enough for the knowledge to be shared at all. “Oh, I see.” There was a rustle of fabric and then Rosie was sitting beside him on the edge of the tub. “Well, let’s address what we can fix, shall we? No sense crying over spilled blood.” She tutted, taking in the ugly wound. Most of the bruising on his back and shoulders had faded to sickly yellow skin, but the open wound was still festering, bleeding in spots.

Alastor sensed that Rosie was on the cusp of saying something else before she reconsidered and merely set about pouring hot water into a shallow dish, muttering something about her sewing kit. That was what he liked best about Rosie - she was smart enough to glean what she needed to know from what Alastor was willing to say, and she was, unlike most, content with her answers rarely being answered directly. “You know, you won’t like hearing this, but you really are lucky you didn’t end up in two very cute pieces.” Rosie pointed out, moseying around the overlarge bathroom, which was so unnecessarily decadent it was nearly comical. She started to rummage in a cabinet on the far side of the room. “Lucky for you, I always stock up before Exterminations.” She canted her head with a beaming smile, brandishing several small mason jars.

“I know.” He smiled back, feeling slightly relieved already by the weight off his shoulders, knowing there was at least one person aware of his predicament. “I’m surprised your contact is still alive.” Alastor admitted with some interest, taking the first jar from her and sniffing it. The paste inside was pungent, but distinctly fresh-smelling, and when he scooped some out, it was a pleasant forest green color. It stung the shit out of his chest when he applied it, but Alastor knew better than to doubt anything Rosie advised.

“Oh, no! The first one’s been dead for years, darling. Ugh, bless him. Frederick. Sweet boy, very tender.” Rosie corrected with a hoot of laughter. “If you paid any attention to politics outside the Pentagram, you’d know that plenty of hellborn demons are happy to help!” She held out the second jar, which smelled like the ocean… or as close to it as Alastor could remember. “They’re always flicking back and forth to Earth anyway, so it’s not hard for them to pick up some ingredients! Especially hellhounds - their noses are perfect for this kind of thing.” She noticed the way Alastor’s lips curled at the mention of hellhounds and absently slapped the back of his hand. “Oh stop. Keep your biases to yourself.”

Alastor rolled his eyes but didn’t reply, because Rosie was correct and it was a personal bias that kept him from wanting anything to do with hellhounds. Alastor didn’t like the way they looked, or the way they smelled, or the way they sometimes made doggish sounds when he least expected it. “Are you not going to pry even a little?” He asked instead, sounding amused.

“Would that make you feel better?”

“Not particularly.”

“Would you be able to answer anythingI asked.”

“Probably not.”

“Well, then that answers your question!” Rosie chirped, clapping her hands down on her lap as she sat next to him again. “I do wonder what in hell would possess you to do something so stupid, but…” She patted his shoulder fondly, and Alastor had no desire to rip out her throat for touching his bare skin. In fact, he amiably leaned into her side. “Well, stupid is as stupid does, as I always say! You’ve always got your reasons, even if they’re shit.” Rosie chuckled, then gently squeezed him against her side in a loose hug. “I suppose the only real question that matters is if you’re okay.”

Alastor was abruptly brought back to his first meeting with Rosie, when he’d been in Hell less than a week and practically crawling between hunger and pain, having stumbled from one bad situation to the next for days on end. Frankly, Alastor attributed much of his current success to Rosie’s kindness in those first months when he had nothing to offer her and she still chose to house him and feed him.

Rosie was good. Rosie had his trust.

“No.” He admitted softly, after enough time had passed that Rosie looked surprised. “No.” Alastor shook his head, feeling his heart speeding up and starting to skip a beat or two along the way. “I don’t want to die.” He elaborated in a high, panicky tone, dragging a hand through his hair as his ears flattened against his scalp. The room felt small and airless. Wasn’t there a window in here? Why was it so hot? “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be at a disadvantage every single time.” Alastor added, speaking faster as his panic finally caught up with him, feeling like he had a knot tied around his throat, cutting off his breath. “I’m weak like this! I’m— they— I don’t need—” His voice crackled with interference and his eyes took turns ticking.

Rosie, who knew what to do in every situation, patted his hand calmly and was content to sit and wait as seconds crackled by. Eventually, when she seemed sure he wouldn’t sprint out of the room like a hunted animal, Rosie spoke up. “Well… I think that’s the risk you took, sweetheart, doing what you did. Aw, now don’t look at me like that.” She tutted when he wheeled on her with unprocessed anger brewing in his face. “I’m not saying what you’re feeling is wrong! It’s not! You think you’re the only one who’s probably scared to death with all this going on? Hah. Honey, please.”

“I’m weak.” He repeated hoarsely.

“To who? Some two thousand year old angel? Honey, we’re all weak next to that!” Rosie chided gently. “Or do you mean your deal?”

He couldn’t confirm it even if he wanted to, but his sullen look seemed to speak volumes.

“Hmm. Well, I guess that’s a little trickier…” Rosie sighed, standing up and pulling a small stool over from the corner so she could sit in front of Alastor. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.” He said tightly, lifting his chin so she could start sewing his skin together without his nose in the way. He sighed at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I can’t find a backdoor.”

“Mm, well, you know what they say: Every deal’s got a backdoor.” Rosie reminded him as she set to work. “I’m sure yours is no different. You just need to find it.”

Alastor winced at the first poke of the needle. “And what if there is no backdoor?” He wondered bleakly.

“Then you’re stuck, and you might as well learn to live with it.” Rosie laughed. “Not what you wanna hear, I know, but you could be doing worse for yourself, Alastor. Look where you are. Who you’re there with!” The needle dipped a little deeper than before and he hissed softly. Rosie didn’t seem to care as she chattered on. “That Charlie’s a little peach! A bit naive, maybe, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Stick with her, and I think it’ll work out.”

Alastor sighed, because Rosie was right (as usual), but that didn’t make her advice any less grating on his nerves. “Well, at least that won’t be a struggle” He muttered bitterly, then dragged a hand through his hair again, anxiously mussing his ears. “Maybe.” Alastor added as a brooding afterthought, knowing better than to try predicting the mind of any demon besides himself. The one holding his leash could change their mind on a whim, and he wouldn’t have any say in the matter.

Rosie hummed thoughtfully as she knotted the last stitch and nipped off the thread. “I see.” She suddenly had a third jar of something-or-other in her hand and dabbed it on the stitching. It smelled spicy. Foreign. It made Alastor think of some far-flung desert. “It’s interesting that you would say it like that.” Rosie laughed softly, taking his hand in hers before Alastor could think to pull away. “It’s so odd to see you worried. You really are fond of that little hotel, aren’t you?”

He immediately bristled, taking offense at the suggestion that he was blinded by misplaced affection for a plan that was, at best, wildly unrealistic. Alastor tried to yank his hand away, but Rosie had a grip of iron when she wanted, and he had a better chance of cutting his hand off than getting it back from her. “Oh stop, sweetheart. You’re so dramatic!” Rosie sighed irritably. “I wasn’t insulting you, so you can put your incorrigible male pride away for the time being. It’s not a sin to be fond of people you live with!”

“I’m not—”

“Dear.”

“I do not—”

“Darling.”

“I just—”

“Sweetie-Pie.”

“I’ve never—”

“Alastor.” He looked up at her sudden shift in tone. “Shut up, honey. You know how much I hate it when you lie. It’s an insult to our friendship.” Her smile was an unpleasant, jagged, and anxiety-inducing thing. Alastor deflated rapidly, ears flat against his head and shoulders sinking. “Thank you, sweetie.” She patted his shoulder warmly. “I think we’ve got you about as patched up as you’ll ever be.” She added as an afterthought, standing up and wandering out of the bathroom for a few moments, giving Alastor a chance to catch his breath, eyes pinched shut and expression pained by more than just the searing wound on his chest. Out in the main room, Rosie was talking (mainly to herself) about how happy she was to help.

“Of course, there isn’t much I can do for your silly little stick.” Rosie was still chattering away as she came back with his shirt and jacket, both meticulously cleaned.

“I didn’t expect you to.” Alastor laughed curtly as he pulled on his dress shirt, grimacing when the stitches strained against flesh. “That’s the next stop.”

“Well, best to get it all over with in one fell swoop, isn’t that right? No need to drag out your own suffering.”

Alastor shuffled his arms into his jacket, adjusting his clothes until he felt presentable enough to leave the sanctity of Rosie’s luxurious bathroom. “Oh, I don’t know. I imagine it’s going to be dragged out whether I like it or not.” He raised his brows at her significantly and she had the decency to at least appear sympathetic. “I continue to suffer for the fact that I have ever agreed to any deals.” He couldn’t help whining one last time as he was shuffled towards the door.

“Oh stop. It’s what, twelve hours? You can handle that! Look at you! You survived an angel, I think you can handle a television.” Rosie pulled him into a tight hug that Alastor reciprocated after a pause. “The door’s always open if you need it. Tell Vox I sent him kisses.” She added cheerfully.

Alastor grimaced. “See you in twelve hours.” He muttered, sucking in a long-suffering breath as he nudged open the door with his hip and slipped out onto the street, begrudgingly making eye contact with the stupid drone that was eagerly floating around in the pissing rain, one red light flashing rhythmically, just in case he needed even more confirmation that Vox was being, as the children would say, a fucking creeper.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait. I’m not tolerating you until I’ve eaten.” Alastor bared his teeth at the floating camera in what was more a snarl than a smile. “And I am not going to that ludicrous eyesore of a tower.” The drone, of course, didn’t speak, but Alastor was more than capable of having a one-sided argument with the fool on the other side of the camera. “You maycome to the hotel in one hour. Assess the damage and we can go from there.” He pinched the bridge of his nose irritably, unable to fully comprehend that he was still forced to adhere to a deal he’d agreed to almost sixty years ago.

Frankly, the fact that Vox still held onto it was pathetic… though Alastor had togrudgingly admit that he had no idea what he would do if he was left to his own devices with the tangle of wire and magic that was his microphone.

“You can go now.” He waved his hand at the drone, which made an unbearably happy trill with its motor as it followed him down the street. “Do you think I’ve forgotten how this works? You fix my cane and I go along with whatever absolute idiocy youforce upon me for twelve hours.” Alastor pointed angrily at the drone, which continued whirring cheerfully until a tendril of darkness crawled around it, sending it clattering onto the pavement. “That twelve hours starts when I say it does. Not when you feel most aggravating.” The drone blinked a few more times as the tentacle overcame its sensors and Alastor’s shape started to morph into something lanky and dark. “You may come to the hotel in one hour. Any earlier than that and ł’ⱠⱠ ₥₳₭Ɇ ɎØɄ ⱤɆ₲ⱤɆ₮ ł₮.” He snapped his teeth at the drone just before it disappeared into the void, then pulled back with an aggrieved sigh, losing all his ponce and drama immediately.

It was going to be a very long night.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin alastor #hazbin rosie #hazbin vox #Rosie is here to lay down some truth sandwiches #Alastor would rather be dead thanks #Alastor has a panic attack RIP #Vox just lives in his drones #like a freak #Rosie still calls them friends even though it's been 40 years and they're on sight

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thursdayisfriday · 2 years

Text

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀ ᴘɪᴇʀᴄɪɴɢ 👂🏽⭐

⤑ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Bakugou x Gn!reader, Todoroki x Gn! reader and Deku x Gn!reader

⤑ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: cursing, very fluffy , comedy :)

⤑ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your a professional body piercer and you giving them a piercing

Izuku Midoriya

I feel like Izuku would get a standard lobe piercing

If he’s feeling bold he’d get a helix piercing

With Midoriya being himself I just know that he’s gonna be a little worried, but he’ll try not to show it i front of you and your cool self

He might even need something to squeeze since it’s his first time getting a piercing

I could see him occasionally rambling, forgetting about the fact that he was getting a piercing; and once he gets it he’s be so confused

“Can you tell me when you're going to do it?” Deku mumbles as you clean his ear. You let out a hum sound as you studied the green headed boy's face. He looked so cute! He was biting his lip a little as his heart raced, either because of how close you were near him or because he was going to be getting his first piercing. After you were done cleaning his ear you grabbed the piercing needle beside you. “Okay” you sigh as you look at him reassuring him everything is going to be alright. “Ready?”. Deku nodded a little, closing his eyes tight. You leaned down clipping his ears with the Forester Forceps, waiting a little until he stopped shaking. Just as you were about to clip his ears, he started rambling about how this was a bad idea and that he was only doing this because he thought he was going to look cool and how he just wanted to go outside and touch so gras-”panca-HOLY MOTHER TRUCKER!”

Katsuki Bakugo

He’d get a middle tongue piercing or a smiley piercing

Basically whatever piercing that would make him look badass

And this motherfucker would be so damn ready

Like he even tell you to hurry up and give him the piercing

Afterwards, will(And i mean will) go brag about it to his friend

You clipped bakugou´s tongue with the forester forcep getting ready to pierce him, when all of a sudden the boy starts to growl, like a damn dog. ¨What?¨ You said annoyed. This was the 2nd time he made that sound. ¨Con yow gus uurry up(Can you just hurry)!¨ You rolled your eyes as you just pulled his tongue making him wince. ¨just shut up and let me do my job¨ with a swift move, you pierced his tongue and slid on the piercing. While everything was going on you didn't even notice the fact that Bakugou had his hand on your waist squeezing it a little. ¨You okay?¨ You asked softly, resting your hands on his tense shoulders, massaging him. Bakugou hummed, rubbing your hips a little. ``Pass the mirror¨, Bakugou said signaling to the mini mirror behind you. After passing you to him you look a little at himself in the mirror. Sticking out his tongue admiring the piercing he had. ¨You like it?¨ ¨Hell yeah!¨ He shouted out boldly as he made goofy ass faces.

Shoto Todoroki

Would either get a standard ear piercing like Deku or a scaffold

Basically he´d probably get any ware on his ear, nose or mouth pierce

Says that he's doing it cause he just wants to try it out, but really he just wants to piss his father off.

Would take it better then deku and quieter that bakugou

Likes to distract himself when it's happening

¨What color do you want?¨ Shoto stared at you with a soft expression as he thought. Your hand was on his cheek massaging it softly waiting for an answer. ¨I don 't know, love. Which one do you think would look nice¨ You tilted your head slightly to the side, thinking of the best color that would suit him. Shoto loved seeing you in this state. Your face in a serious yet soft expression. ¨I mean silver is a common one , But i think i would look nice on you.¨ You got the tools ready. Cleaning his ear, Brushing his ears carefully and marking the places that you were going to pierce. ¨Ready?¨. Shoto hummed lightly. You clipped his ear making sure he was okay and ready. Then swiftly, you inserted the needle as well as the silver piercing. Then you looked at your work. Making sure you did it right. ¨What´s wrong? Shoto asked confusedly, looking at your concerned face. ¨Oh- nothing¨. You rubbed your neck as you backed up. A light tint of pink kissed your cheek as you looked at a Shoto with the piercing. ¨So how do i look?¨You took this opportunity to tease the boy.

¨Hot~¨

⇣

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

Note

I'm sorry if it seem very specific.

Romantic yandere bob 26 + 22 prompts

26)Aww, I love it when you struggle, it makes killing them less boring + 22)Are you enjoying your meal? I thought it would be harder to obtain the meat but your little friend didn't put up much of a fight

Prompt set from here https://at.tumblr.com/yanderes-galore/700551429444763648/8kphhwofbh8v

Sure! I should write more for Spooky Month ^^ Also, picking prompts is not being too specific, no worries. The rule is there for over the top Darling descriptions or plots :)

Pre-Demon Bob for plot purposes.

Prompts Found Here!

Yandere! Bob Velseb Prompts 26 + 22

"Aww, I love it when they struggle, it makes killing them less boring."

"Are you enjoying your meal? I thought it would be harder to obtain the meat but your little friend didn't put up much of a fight."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Murder, Sadism, Cannibalism, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Eating/Feeding kink, Drool, Kidnapping, Vomit, Forced relationship.

To Bob, it's important to keep up a facade. No one needs to suspect the butcher at Boys and Grills of anything disturbing. He's just a friendly face here to serve you the best food around.

That's how Bob wanted you to see him as. Just a kind man who loves to talk to you and be seen as your friend. Hopefully, at some point, something closer than that too.

Bob doesn't want you to see the nastier behavior of his yet. You don't need to see the obsessive crush he has for you... or know the origin of the blood staining his clothes.

It's animal blood, he swears it!

You have no clue about the cult he's part of. You don't suspect his favorite meal being human flesh. You just see him as a normal guy.

Although, he isn't sure how long that will last.

"Aww, I love it when they struggle, it makes killing them less boring."

Jealousy rages within him just as much as his hunger. When you came into his life and tempted the starving beast... it's become uncontrollable when you aren't around. Your delicious little friends don't seem to help.

His knife cuts into their flesh with the intention of making your foul friend something more fitting. To Bob, they are merely meat that needs to know its place. Seeing you mingling with them...

It tempts him.

Like starving dogs, hunger and jealousy drool and growl when he sees you with your friend. They anger him. He wants to be the only one you're so close to.

Call him childish to be jealous over you having friends...

He only sees them as food.

Once the struggling is over, Bob frowns. Now it was back to being boring. It was funny to think they could overpower him.

Certainly not with a knife in their side.

Bob tried not to drool too much on the meat as he prepared it. He couldn't help it when he thought of you eating it.... This meal could only be the best for someone like you.

It's a better use for your friend, too. At least they proved themself useful. Good riddance.

Each cut was made with precision. The sound of meat gliding against his knife was pure music to his ears. Once he puts everything in the grinder, it would be ready tonight.

Bob had pulled you aside earlier today to have dinner with him. Just who would you be to refuse a meal from your friend, who's a chef? Of course you said you'd come!

It took him everything to restrain the urge to scoop you into his arms earlier. Not yet, he needs to wait. You had to at least eat first!

Carefully, Bob cleans up after himself and prepares for dinner. The meat is neatly packaged and ready to be cooked. The rest is discarded while he washes himself of any blood.

All with a professionalism that implies he's done this before.

It's then he closes up shop and heads for your home, a place you luckily gave the address for.

Even if he already knows it.

---

"Thanks for coming over, Bob! You know it's my house, right? You don't have to cook...."

"Nonsense, dear! I feel I should treat you to something special tonight."

"Oh? What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing, really. Just... felt I should be a good friend, y'know?"

"Aww... you're so sweet!"

Tonight was going well. Bob wanted to have dinner with you and suggested going to your house to do it. According to him, his house was too messy.

Despite using your house, he wanted to cook for you. You found it odd but let him. He brought his own meat and everything.

"Made it fresh for tonight, just for you."

It seemed like such a nice gesture. It's just... his tone seemed strange to you. He looked so eager to cook for you.

You weren't going to question him on it, though. There was no need.

"Just try not to burn yourself, okay?"

You playfully warn him, sitting on the couch to wait. You never saw the stare he gave you before getting to work. You didn't even hear the mischievous chuckle he let out before pulling out the meat.

Time passed and you could tell he was making his specialty, burgers. Your stomach growls at the smell but you stay patient. Can't rush perfection.

You try to be invested in the TV you're watching, flicking by the news channel curiously-

Was that a missing person report-?

"Dinner's served, (Y/N)!"

You shut the TV off and meet Bob at the table. One of his amazing burgers sat on a plate in front of you, an all too eager Bob watching you curiously. It smelled amazing.

"Looks great!"

"Well, go on... taste it. I'm sure it's to your liking?"

You sit down and hold the burger. Hungrily, you take a bite. Bob looks at you in a... strange gaze.

It tastes good... but what is this flavour?

Trying to decipher the taste, you eat more of the burger. It's not quite beef... yet you can't tell. You take some time to enjoy it despite the odd taste.

It isn't all that bad.

Bob watches you with half-lidded eyes. You're so cute.... You're none the wiser to what he's done...

Until now, at least.

"Are you enjoying your meal? I thought it would be harder to obtain the meat... but your little friend didn't put up much of a fight."

You pause at his wording, swallowing thickly. You then give a nervous yet confused smile. Was he okay?

"Sorry, Bob... I didn't quite get the joke?"

"What's there to joke about, sweetheart?"

"... what did you mean by 'little friend'...?"

Bob then gives you the widest and creepiest smile. He looked like a psychopath to you. Something was wrong....

"Bob...?"

"You have no idea how jealous they made me, dear...."

You drop the food back on the plate, backing your chair up.

"Who...?"

"Your friend. They acted like you two were so close. I couldn't have that, could I? Don't worry, I'm sure they were to your... taste."

You look down slowly to the food... soon feeling ill. There's no way.... Bob wouldn't do such a thing, would he?

"Stop it... this isn't-"

"They taste good, don't they? I thought so. Trust me, sweetie, this was a better use for them."

Suddenly, bile shoots up your throat and on the table. You're shaking, even more so when Bob stands up and stalks towards you. You're so much smaller compared to him.

When did he get so intimidating?

"I see. So they were just as foul as they were in life, huh?"

"You're SICK!"

You yell, convulsing due to holding back a gag. Bob only chuckles at the irony of the situation before rubbing your back. He was trying to be comforting after feeding you your own friend.

"Now, now... you had to know at some point. Surprised you believed all my lies for so long. I hide the taste well, don't I?"

Another round of vomit leaves you, incapacitating you to the floor. Bob sighs softly, pulling your back into his chest. You could barely struggle.

"Don't act like I'll hurt you, sweetheart! I'd never... I just prefer not to share, that's all."

"Get away-"

"Nah. I think I prefer you right here...."

"What do you plan to do with me!?"

"Keep you, what else? You're just too sweet to give up!"

Bob laughs at your fear before slinging you over his shoulder. You wiggle in his grip but your stomach still makes you weak. The guilt shaking your body wasn't helping, either.

You ate your friend, are you just supposed to be okay with that?

"I've just been waiting for when I could get you all to myself. You've been making me feel so hungry, dear."

He grins, walking you out the door with you in his arms. His eyes bore into you with a predatory gaze. You couldn't even ignore the drool running down his face.

"I don't mean for food, either..."

He presses you closer, heading for his home in the darkness of the night. He holds you like he's scared to lose you. It's desperate, you notice.

"I have a craving for you, (Y/N). One stronger than anything else. That's why... I think I'll never let you go."

That's the last time you had your freedom and life without Bob.

#yandere spooky month #yandere bob velseb

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deemizer · 1 year

Text

The Selfish and the Selfless

Warnings: adhd and autism talk, typical criminal minds violence possible idk, insecurities? panic attack mentions and one experience, though idk how to describe what i go through since feelings are foreign to me.

Parings: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

A/N: i got high and realized my adhd is worse and better when i'm this relaxed. idk man, i was cleaning and thought of this. i base most of the reader's issues as how i perceive them, though with my (possible autism since i haven't been professionally diagnosed) i don't understand what feelings are happening, like i need an owner's manual to navigate, understand and name each feeling. sorry, long rant, but in my defense, i'm high. idk if virgina has legalized marijuana or not, but let's just pretend the did for the sake of this fic.

---

Dating Aaron Hotchner was nice. Great, even. You often had doubts about why he loved you, especially since you started feeling constantly on edge, skin itchy, kinda uncomfortable. You knew why, but you wouldn't risk Aaron finding out. You didn't want to make him decide whether he wants Jack around weed or not, so you stopped smoking to relax just a couple of days before you went on your first date with Aaron. It's been a little over a month (38 days, 23 minutes, and 56, 57, 58 seconds, but who's counting?) and knowing Aaron's career and abilities that come with the job, you figure he knew something was wrong the minute the withdraws starting hitting you.

Not working at the BAU was probably a good thing, as people raising their voice often makes you go into a panic attack. You started working from home, doing a third shift computer job. That way, if Aaron ever needs an emergency babysitter, you're open. You can take him to school, sleep, go pick him up, and have a fun night before bed with the baby Hotchner, then go back to work again.

Jack loved your American Staffordshire Terrier, Layla. She was so gentle with Jack, and like you, she protects Jack like he is her own son. Aaron was weary about Layla given he hadn't been around many bully breed dogs, but the second he walked into the door, Layla chose him as her new person. She still protected you, but he was her favorite. And she typically didn't like men besides your grandfather .

You had had enough, and since you knew Aaron shouldn't be around as he was at work and probably wouldn't be home till well into the night, and Jack was with Jessica today and tomorrow, you took a couple of hits from the Snail battery and the highly potent cartridge. You haven't done so in so long, that even though you had medication that slowed the effect for a good ten minutes, you could already tell the high was going to be good. Layla walked behind you as you walked around the house, randomly moving on from chore to chore without finishing the previous, bopping your head along to the speaker you have for your spotify playlist.

You had given Aaron and Jack a key to your two bedroom house, which is probably why you didn't hear Aaron walk in, nor did you realize that Layla was no longer behind you. Hands wrap around you from behind, and you squeak loudly and flinch slightly as you startle.

"What the- Aaron! You scared the shit outta me!" You pant, forgetting about the hits and the more twitchy you are with a full body and mind relaxation.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to scare... you. What's that smell?" Aaron starts sniffing the air, and you can almost feel your face drain of color.

"Uh, what smell?" You ask, trying to keep your voice even. Attempting to take a step back, though Aaron's grip on your forearms stops you and draws his attention to you.

"What's wrong?" His eyebrows raise slightly in concern, though his frown deepens.

You can start to feel your breath quicken, as though you've been holding your breath for far too long. Your arms start to clench up, and cross to hold your chest. Hands forming a tight, white-knuckle fist, and your shoulders tense up to your ears.

"I uh, I'm sorry," Your voice is weak, and you start to tear up from both panic and embarrassment. This is the last thing you wanted to show him.

"Why are you sorry? Are you," He pauses, eyes working up and down to profile you. "You have autism."

You almost snort, forgetting your panic for a second. ADHD and being high does that to you. "Yeah. I told you on our second date. When we had a movie night at yours with Jack."

"You don't usually react this much. What happened? Are you okay?" His words cause you to sigh. Might as well get this over with.

"I smoke marijuana sometimes, when I'm overly stressed, or need a day to relax, go to sleep. Plus, with ADHD and autism, there's a thing called masking. I've done it for my entire life, without knowing I was masking, and without being able to take off the mask. So when I'm high, it calms my mind enough so that I can't wear the mask, and then in turn get to enjoy in having ADHD and autism, because it feels more natural. I stopped because of you and Jack. I could do without getting high so I didn't risk losing either of you. You mean more than my unmasking. I don't change my personality, other than shy till I know you, type of deal. Just the tics, forgetting words immediately, doing random things." You take a breath, which is shaky. You start to loosen slightly, given the fact that his frown has almost become a thin line. He doesn't seem angry, that of which you could tell.

You keep your hands gripping the opposite shoulder, but most everything else looses tension. He seems to sense the anxiety and relief, because he tries to smile, succeeding in only lifting one corner of his lips.

"Honey, I appreciate the thought of keeping Jack away from it, but that doesn't mean you have to stop feeling comfortable with yourself. I don't really mind, though we can discuss the details later. Is that the reason you've been slightly down lately?" You bite your lips and nod at his question, looking down to your feet that touch Aaron's toes in his work shoes.

"I uh, thought that if you couldn't be with me because of it, I would stop and it wouldn't bother me. I haven't been in a good state of mind, and I didn't really know how you'd react. I can't really judge things like that anyway. I just didn't want to loose the one good thing I feel like I've earned. Being lonely and touch starved really messes with one's mind. Being an introvert doesn't help either." You scratch your neck, kind of nervous to look up.

His hand comes up to your jaw, and you lean into it, the nerves firing with his touch. Being high makes your senses more sensitive.

"I don't mind, if this is what makes you feel happier, and more comfortable." Aaron says, thumb rubbing your cheek softly.

Smiling inro his hand and nuzzling your nose into the heel, you say, "I promise I won't do it all the time. I usually just do it when I'm alone, so I can be free and not bother anyone. I won't ever do it in front of or be around him when I'm high. It's not an escape, just something for the really off days."

"I know, you don't need to worry about that. You're too selfless to worry about yourself when Jack or I are around. I'm just glad to know you do stuff for yourself." He pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on your head, and his arms around your shoulders. His touch feels so relaxing and warm, and you just melt into him.

Thank whatever power above that Aaron fell for you just as you did for him. There's nothing you wouldn't do for your boys. Seems the feeling is mutual.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner angst #criminal minds

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