#I mean we don’t know for SURE the arms aren’t controlling her but i mean she seems. very much In Control

[notebookpapers]

the contrast between raimi trilogy doc ock and spiderverse doc ock is so funny bc raimi trilogy is like: I just wanted to use my science for good…. I was corrupted by these machines meant to make the world better…. I cried once I was healed bc I had almost forgotten how it felt to be in control of my own mind… my own actions…… meanwhile spiderverse doc ock is like: hm. i think I should get to be a little evil I think. as a treat

#I mean we don’t know for SURE the arms aren’t controlling her but i mean she seems. very much In Control #doc ock #sam raimi #spiderman raimi #raimi trilogy #spiderman #spiderman 2 #doctor otto octavius #doctor olivia octavius #otto octavius #olivia octavius #spiderverse #spiderman: into the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman: no way home #spiderman nwh

[imtryingbuck]

Timeless Love.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky might have met the love of his life in the middle of a war, he just wished he was able to live a life with her.

Word count: 6,598

Warnings: angst. kidnapping. fluff. Hydra. forced breeding. forced miscarriage.

A/N: enjoyed writing this!! Thank you for the request. Also thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for helping me when I needed it!🤍

Masterlist

“Y/n L/n. 107th.”

She nodded smiling at her friend who had also been given the same unit. All the nurses - professional and volunteers alike were waiting for their names to be called to hear what unit they would be stationed with.

Then she was given the news that she was going to be the matron. And at twenty four years old that was a massive accomplishment, herself and her parents were beyond proud.

“Hey doc” she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at hearing the familiar voice that she began hearing everyday. “I’m injured doll, need your help to patch me back up”

Looking up for the clipboard she carried around she saw the Sergeant who had captured all the attention from all the nurses. Though he never paid any mind to them, just her.

James Buchanan Barnes.

“Firstly I’m not a doctor, just a nurse and secondly this is your seventh time coming here this week”

“Firstly you should be a doctor, better than the one we’ve got and secondly I keep getting hurt”

“Bucky… it’s only Wednesday.”

“You love me. Aren’t you going to ask me what my very serious injury is?”

“I don’t love you. Okay, what seems to be the problem Sergeant?”

“Y-you don’t love me? I’m going to cry myself to sleep tonight thanks to you!”

“What’s your injury Sergeant?”

“My heart” he places his hand on his chest and looks up at her sympathetically. “My heart hurts doll”

“James… you do realise that your heart is on the left side not the right…”

Moving his hand to the left side “Oh… are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure” chuckling at his facial expression, he winks causing her to laugh.

“The truth is that I just wanted to see you, I like you even though you’re being mean to me” he pouts and bats his eyelashes as he kicked his legs back and forth.

“How am I being mean to you?” She asks whilst counting stock, trying her hardest to ignore the intense gaze of his ocean blue eyes on her back.

“Because you won’t let me take you dancing”

“You should go with one of the other nurses James”

“I don’t want any of the other nurses, just you”

“You-“

“Y/n! Y/n quick we need you!” Mary’s panic scream interrupted her. Jumping up and rushing out of the tent with Bucky right behind her, a group of men carrying a stretcher with a man lying on it. His right leg gone as well as his left arm.

“Get him in here” Bucky opens the flaps of the tent, his eyes trained on the young soldier as they passed him. “Help me transfer him on to the bed, carefully.”

Bucky watched on as Y/n took control, ordering the nurses around and trying to get the soldiers to move away so she could work. When one of the men wouldn’t move Bucky stepped in.

It wasn’t long before Y/n made everyone get out except for the nurses.

“Go” Bucky’s head snapped from the medical tent to Dum Dum sitting next to him, giving the man a questioning look, Dum Dum laughed. “The doc”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about” he mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.

“You’ve been turning down women all night and I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t burnt a hole into the tent with how intense you’ve been looking at it. Oh and let’s not forget that you’ve been obsessed from the second you laid eyes on her”

“I-no I haven’t.”

“You have, and don’t bother trying to argue with me. Go and talk to her”

“And say what?”

“That’s on you” Bucky contemplated on whether or not to take his friend’s advice, it didn’t take too long before he was getting up and heading over to the medical tent. “Shes in her own tent” he heard from behind him so he changed course.

Standing outside the small tent he fixed his hair before pushing the flap aside, he found her sitting hunched over the small table one hand in her hair and the other scribbling away as she filled in paperwork.

“I can feel your eyes on me” her whispered voice snapped him out of his head.

“Are you alright doll?”

“I’m fine don’t worry, go and enjoy your night”

Moving closer to her he saw the tears falling freely down her cheeks. “Hey, hey why are you crying doll?”

“He… he didn’t make it. I tried everything bu-but it wasn’t enough, he was only seventeen Bucky.”

“Oh doll. You did everything you could-“

“But it wasn’t enough! And within the week his parents are going to know I failed, I failed to save their son”

Bucky pulled her into his arms, holding her close to his chest ignoring the feeling of her tears wetting his shirt. “It’s not your fault” he whispered over and over again as she fell apart in his arms.

“I failed”

“No you didn’t! Nobody would have been able to have saved him Y/n and you know that.”

“He was only seventeen Bucky. A child!”

“I know sweetheart, I know.”

As the laughing and music continued outside Bucky kept Y/n close to his chest, rocking them both from side to side slowly. Sleep began to overtake them, being the gentleman that he was he turned his back on her waiting for her to change into her nightwear.

“Goodnight doll”

“Stay… please”

“Of course” he was slightly shocked by seeing her shifting over in the small cot then patting the space she had created.

Climbing in next to her, wrapping her up and pulling her into his chest. Pressing his lips to her forehead “goodnight my love”

It became an unspoken routine between the two of them that Bucky would sleep in her bed, they ignored the teasing from all those around them - as if the nurses weren’t warming the soldiers beds themselves. There was nothing sexual about what they were doing, it was just two lost souls finding themselves seeking shelter within one another.

That however changed one night when Bucky went into their now shared tent finding her once again hunched over the table. “Hi doll”

“Hi Sergeant”

“Me and the guys move out tomorrow”

“I heard. How are you feeling?” She asked looking up from the papers in front of her.

“Nervous I won’t lie, but I’m going to miss you”

“I’m going to miss you too but you shouldn’t be gone long, right?”

“Two weeks, three at the most” he shrugged. “Doll, come and dance with me”

“There’s no music…”

“So? Come on” he held his hand out for her to take, his heart fluttering with the look she gave him as she puts her hand in his. “You are so pretty” he whispers as they swayed together.

“‘M not.”

“Yes you are. From the second I laid eyes on you I thought you were the most prettiest dame I had ever laid eyes on.”

“You’re lying!” She chuckled.

“I am not!”

“If you say so”

Bucky gently raises her head up by her chin, “I have never lied to you.”

“Bucky… kiss me please” she asked softly. Their lips met slowly at first before growing heatedly and passionately.

The next morning with only a thick blanket covering their naked bodies they basked in the silence of the camp, Bucky running his fingers through her hair and Y/n drawing invisible circles on his chest.

“When this war comes to an end me and you are going to get married” Bucky declared as he broke the silence.

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Nope” he chuckled. “Why, don’t you want to marry me?”

“And put up with you for the rest of my life?”

“Yeah, why what’s wrong with that?”

“You’re annoying”.

“And?” He drawls with a cheeky grin on his face.

“I’ll probably smoother you in your sleep?”

“And? Doll you aren’t giving me a good reason for why we shouldn’t get married”

“You honestly want to marry me?”

“More than anything, and I promise I’ll be an amazing husband and we’ll have so much fun together an-“

“Yes”

“-d we’ll make so many memories-“

“Yes”

“-and we’ll grow old toge-wait… yes?”

“Yes Bucky, I’ll marry you when the war is ov-“ her words get cut off from him pressing his lips to hers.

“I can’t wait to annoy you for the rest of our lives together”

Later that morning, before Dum Dum led his unit out of the camp heading to only where they knew they were going Bucky ran over to Y/n giving her a kiss and promised her that he would come back to her.

Since the only people left there was the nurses, injured men and some of the officials the camp was excruciatingly quiet. And since it was only just them… well the camp had become very boring.

Two weeks passed quicker than she thought, waiting to hear the loud chatter from the men to fill in the silence yet it never came. Another week went by and again there was no sight of them. Y/n was helping Private Smith sit up in more of a comfortable position when Mary came rushing in, slightly out of breath.

“Th-they’ve been captured!”

“What? How do you know?”

“Word just come in, I overheard it but apparently Captain America is going to rescue them because he knows someone in the unit”

“I-okay. Okay erm… we’ll need to get things set up for when they come back just incase they are hurt” Y/n rambled off, unaware that she was squeezing Smiths hand - not like he minded.

“He’ll be fine darling” Smith squeezed her hand back.

“I-I know. You need to eat-“

“I will don’t worry but you need to eat too darling as well”

Sitting down next to him they enjoyed a nice meal together, Smith doing everything to help get her mind off of Bucky and the others by talking to her about his life before the war, his wife and children, telling her all the plans he had planned when he got home. It worked. Until it was time to go to bed, being alone with her thoughts made her mind come up with all kinds of scenarios and most of them weren’t good.

It was another two weeks before word got to them that they were coming back. Captain America had saved them.

Y/n was in the medical tent filling out paperwork when applause erupted in the air as Captain America approached with the 107th behind him, hearing the cheers she jumped up and began getting things ready, as the first person was brought in her sole attention was on the solider and not the other one she had been worrying about in the five weeks since she had seen him.

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” She smiled at hearing his voice as she concentrated on the patient in front of her.

“He’s already asked about you” Ann says as she put pressure on the solider’s wound.

“Ah, your the famous doc that he wouldn’t shut up talking about”

“Excuse me?”

“Barnes? Yeah he wouldn’t stop talking about you, if you ask me he’s in love with you” the guy winked.

It wasn’t until everything in the medical tent had calmed down that she had heard his voice again. “I’m injured doll”

Spinning around she sees him standing there with a grin on his dirt covered face. “Who are you?”

“Your future husband, silly. Missed you doll”

“I missed you too” hearing her words he crossed over to where she stood and placed his hands on her face, cupping her face before placing his lips against hers. Both sighing in content at the feeling they had both been missing for weeks.

“Are you hurt? Where?”

“‘M not hurt my love, just messing with you”

“Are you not going to introduce me Buck?” A new voice cut through making them take a step apart from each other.

“Y/n this is Steve, Steve this is my doll” Y/n smiled at the blond who happily returned the expression.

“It’s nice to meet the woman who this one wouldn’t stop talking about”

“I didn’t talk about her once” Bucky rushed out. “I didn’t doll�� shaking his head whilst looking at her.

“He’s actually not the first person to tell me that” Y/n winked at Steve making the man laugh.

“I hate the both of you.”

A celebration was held that night when they came back, the men sharing the tale of how they were captured - all teasing each other when they said they weren’t scared. Telling the women how Captain America had told them to leave but they refused, Dum Dum said that they arrived together and were going to be leaving together. Everyone including Y/n hanging on to every word that was spoken of their rescue and how they defeated the enemy.

Bucky never spoke a word, no, he was too lost in watching the flames of the fire-pit flickering off Y/n’s face. Mesmerised by the way her eyes shined so brightly in the darkness, audibly groaning as he watched her bite her lip - his mind going straight to the gutters.

Much later that night Bucky took his time in making love to her.

The 107th Infantry Regiment had been teamed up with Steve to take down an organisation, Bucky promised her that he would contact her whenever they set up camp for the night. Every night they spoke even if it was just for a few minutes, he told her where they were and asked how everything back at camp was going, before ending their call he would tell her that he was coming back to her.

The last time she spoke to him he informed her that they were in Austria, he made her giggle when he complained that they had to go up the alps, telling her how cold it was. He then shocked her by telling her that he was in love with her. Before she could even respond the connection cut off.

She knew there was something wrong when she never received another call from him, Mary and Ann told her that he was just busy and that he would come back and everything was going to be fine. Every time she tried to speak with the General about the update of where they were he just walked away from her.

For two months she didn’t hear anything from him or from anyone, for two months she spent her time trying to take her mind off of the brunette who had wormed himself into her heart.

Mary came running over to the river where Y/n was sitting watching as the ducks swam past her. “Y/n… they’re back.”

Jumping up and running to where the men were, she looked around for the man who she had been missing more than anything, her eyes moved frantically from man to man who all seemed to have a problem with making eye contact with her. Her heart settled when a hand rested itself on her shoulder.

“Darlin’ I-I need to talk to you” it was Dum Dum.

“W-where is he? Dum…”

“Come with me love” he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and moved them to her tent. “I’m sorry darling, he… he didn’t make it”

“W-where is he though?”

“He fell off the train in the alps, we couldn’t find his body”

“No… no we need to fi-find him so his family can bury him… Dum please” his heart ached for the woman in front of him, all he could do was hold her in his arms as she broke down crying. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Bucky’s last words to Steve was him begging the blond to make sure he looked after Y/n.

After crying for a good solid ten minutes she removed herself from his arms, wiped her tears before nodding and walking out - leaving Dum Dum standing there dumbfounded.

She knew herself that she wasn’t going to be able to be aloud time away to mourn, they weren’t dating or married, while they had feelings for each other and they spent every waking moment together it didn’t mean anything to the higher ups. Walking into the medical tent everyone went quiet at seeing her, Mary tried telling her that she could go and rest but Y/n just shook her head and got to work. She needed the distraction to take her mind away from the pain in her chest.

For months after she became a shell of herself, no longer laughing or smiling, no longer holding conversations with anyone, always working and taking little care for herself. And finally that day came when the war ended, everyone around her celebrated whilst she was packing up her things ready to head back home.

It had been two years since the war ended and people were still picking up their lives. Y/n was on her way to home after finishing her shift at the local hospital when a black car pulled up alongside her.

“Excuse me Miss, are you Y/n L/n?” A man asked as he got out of the car.

“I am, who are you?”

“Ah, we have a friend in common”

“We do? Wait what are you do-“

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be Miss L/n, wouldn’t want to hurt you.” Her eyes were wide as his hand tightened around her neck, her whole body trembling with fear. “Nighty night” he smirks as he presses a needle into her left arm.

Y/n woke up disoriented and dazed with her hands and ankles tied painfully tight, trying to speak but her words came out as slurred. “Ah little lambs awake. Go back to sleep little lamb” the same guy from side of the road spoke, but instead of a needle being pushed into her arm he raised his leg and kicked her straight in the face. Knocking her out instantly.

The second time she awoke was when a bucket of stale water was thrown into her face, both arms tied to arms of the chair she was uncomfortably sat in. A man infront of her smiled as she was trying to blink away the water droplets off her eyelashes.

“So you’re the precious little one that our Soldat keeps muttering about, no matter how many times we wipe his memories he always mutters your name”

“I-I don’t know who you are talking about”

“Soldat! You know him” the unnamed man shouts as if it was the most obvious thing. “Get her ready. Miss… I won’t lie to you, what’s going to happen next is going to hurt… well have fun” the man sighs dramatically and then chuckles making his way to the door, leaving her alone with four men holding guns.

Everything that happened next happened in a blur from two of the men grabbing her roughly and dragging her down the corridor, to being strapped down on a cold metal table - a meek looking man muttering something to her that she couldn’t quite understand before a large needle was injected into her arm. 

When she woke the next time she was in a small room - on the floor, that only had a chipped white framed bed with a thin mattress on top of it, she grimaced at seeing the blotches of stains. Her nose crunched upward at the nasty aroma lingering the room. Y/n flinched at hearing noises just outside, she could hear clearly that a man was laughing which caused her to back away and put her hands over her ears trying desperately to block out the sound. Not understanding why everything was amplified.

“Ah, little lamb you’re awake. I’m pleased to tell you that it’s worked, your going to be our new little asset-“

“W-what have you done to me?”

“We’ve made you stronger than any man could wish to be! We’ve made you fast-“

“What have you done!”

“Right, we’ve injected you with a special serum that’s enhanced you. Your lucky little lamb, those before you never made it past the thirty minute mark after injection. Now you’re ready for your second phase of becoming our little asset, boys… be careful with her.” The second he finished his sentence the same four men from before came in and grabbed her roughly once again.

Being dragged down a corridor and into a room she tried to beg the men to let her go, pleading with them that she had a family and they’d be looking for her, she even tried bribing them. Her begs and cries fell on deaf ears.

“Now little lamb, from what I can gather is that this chair here, a beauty in her own right isn’t actually nice to those that sit in her. She’s not exactly been kind to your little boyfriend but that’s because he tries to fight it, I’m going to be kind to you and suggest that you don’t do the same as him otherwise it will hurt more.” He waved his hand in the air lazily and the two agents that had ahold of her shoved her towards the chair, once sat they strapped her legs down and placed a strap across her chest.

“P-please stop ple-“

“None of that little lamb, it’s not going to hurt… much” he chuckles. “Try not to scream, it’ll will only annoy me”

She goes to reply when a loud buzzing sound came from both sides to her, frozen and strapped into place as two metal plates places themselves onto her face. Y/n could hear the man in a white coat start to count down from five, squeezing her eyes shut tightly she saw a blinding white light as her whole body spasmed and withered in pain. The agents all flinched as the glass behind them started to crack. Once it finished and the plates were moved away from her head, her head started to roll to the side as drool began seeping from her mouth.

“Little lamb, do you remember me?”

“W-w-where am I?” Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool, and her tongue felt heavy.

“What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/n”

“Do it again”

By the eighth time of having her mind wiped the window was gone, she had blood seeping from her ears and nose, her bottom half was wet. After they were done with her she was dragged back to her cell and tossed on the ground as if she was nothing.

Y/n had forgotten everything. She didn’t know who she was or where she was. They kept calling her little lamb. Crawling into the corner of the room she pulled her knees up to her chest and began mumbling incoherently to herself.

Every time she closed her eyes all she saw was a blacked out face with the brightest blue eyes.

For years she moved and breathed when they told her too, she spoke when they said, she ate when they told her to eat - not like it was much mind you.

Throughout those years she didn’t understand her purpose of why she was there, she never got to leave the place she was kept at, all she did was train and fight with those who were a lot bigger then her in height and weight.

What she didn’t realise is that she did have a purpose for those she worked for, and that she was leaving the base to do their bidding. Completely unaware that she had taken so many lives.

She didn’t know what they were injecting into her every few months was the sperm belonging to the Winter Soldier in hopes that they could create an army of pure bred super soldiers that they could use to fight and take down their enemies without themselves having to do anything. Or that the nurse who seemed to take pity on her would give her a tablet to force the innocent little foetus to never grow up in a world that it would only be used for pain and suffering.

She didn’t understand what she had done wrong, one minute she was training with the other super soldiers and then she was being hit and shocked by the batons and then dragged to the room that kept the cryostasis chambers, she pleaded with the agents that she would be good, begging them not to put her in there again but they didn’t listen. Her whole body stiffened when they gave her the option - chamber or chair.

She hated the chamber.

But she hated the chair even more.

“See you in a little while little lamb.”

Fury had told them that SHIELD had discovered a new Hydra base and that they needed to go and take it down, not even an hour later they were fifteen minutes away from touching down at the location of the base.

“Cap, it looks deserted…” Natasha said as she slid her gun into her holster.

“We still need to be cautious” Steve told them. He tapped his foot against Bucky’s to gain his attention. “You okay?”

“Don’t worry about me. Seriously punk I’m fine”

“Alright. Everyone be careful.”

They moved quietly and slowly towards the base - that had seen better days - without any trouble, getting inside they all stole quick glances at Bucky making him sigh. “No I’ve never been here before”

“Didn’t say anything Barnes”

“You didn’t need too”

As they moved further inside it became obvious that they were the only ones there, apart from a few rats running around. Steve gave the orders out, him and Wanda going together down one hallway, Bucky and Sam - which he did mainly to annoy his best friend, Natasha and Tony going off to find the computers to see if they can get anything off them.

“How long do you think this place has been empty for?” Wanda asked.

“Not sure… it looks like awhile.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are they all open?” Wanda points at cryo chambers, looking at Steve with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know? But let’s keep looking there has to be something here for us to ta-“ Wanda cuts him off with a gasp. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a woman, she’s pretty…”

“What are you- Y/n?” Wanda’s head snapped from the woman in the chamber to the blond standing next to her.

“Do-do you know her? Wait… Y/n?”

Pressing his comms button Steve tells Bucky to come to where he was, told him to hurry up, hearing the distress tone of their captain Nat and Tony also went along too.

“Steve is this the same Y/n that Bucky calls out for in his sleep?” Wanda asked, watching him nodding slowly she looked down sadly.

The team had slowly grown use to Bucky screaming and hearing him thrash around in his sleep and had even witnessed him trashing him room trying to escape, thinking and believing he was still at the Hydra base he was kept at. One night it had actually taken all of them to try and pin him down on the ground after a horrific nightmare, it took Thor to grab Mjölnir to place it on Bucky’s naked chest to pin him down and for Wanda to use her magic to clear his mind just so they could get him to calm down. She apologised profusely for it the next day but he just smiled, placed his hand on hers gently and thanked her. But every night without fail they all heard him mumbling or crying out for Y/n and none of them wanted to overstep that boundary by asking him directly so they asked Steve who this person was and all he told them was that it wasn’t his place to say anything but that she meant the world to Bucky. And after that they let it be though they were all curious.

And now Wanda was staring up at the woman who had been on her friends mind for so long, she didn’t know how Bucky was going to react to seeing her here.

“Steve?” Bucky stood at the doorway with Sam, Natasha and Tony behind him. “What’s up?”

“Buck… she-she’s here”

“Who?”

Steve watched as Bucky paled and his eyes got shinier with tears filling them. “Y/n.”

“N-no no you’re lying Steve.” His eyes moved to Wanda when he noticed her shifting from foot to foot. He knew by the look on her face that what Steve was saying wasn’t a lie.

He moved slowly to where Wanda stood, never taking his eyes off her until he stood in front of her, it wasn’t until she gave him a sad smile that he finally looked to his right. A choked sob was the only sound in the whole building. Wanda tried to grab him before he fell but it was no use, Bucky landed with a loud thud on his knees as he looked up at the woman he had fallen madly in love with in the forties. The woman he had made a promise too. A promise he couldn’t keep.

“St-Steve we need-I need to get her out of here”

“I know Buck, I know but we need to be careful, we don’t know how long she’s been in there for”

“We can’t leave her!”

“We aren’t going to leave her Barnes, just give me a few minutes to try and figure out how we’re going to get sleeping beauty out of here, okay?” Tony says before looking around the room to find a way to get her out.

As everyone moved around the room trying to find a way to get her out of the chamber Bucky stayed on his knees looking helplessly up at her. “That’s why you couldn’t find her, she’s been here”

“I tried Buck-“

“No, I know you did. H-how long do you think she’s been here for?”

“I… I don’t know”

Not long after, Tony managed to find a way to open up the door to the chamber without causing any damage to Y/n. They all shivered as the cold air hits them, Bucky took the straps off her and took her gently into his arms. His body tensed when Tony injected something into her arm. “It’s just to keep her asleep until we get back to the tower”.

Steve told him to take Y/n onto the jet so they could finish off clearing the base, they all watched as he carried her as if she was the most delicate thing in the world.

“Steve, she’s a super solider” Nat looked over at him from the computer.

“Have you found anything else about her?”

“She’s got way more kills under her belt than I do, they call her little lamb” saying that nickname made her nose scrunch up. “And… oh Steve, they’ve been injecting her with Bucky’s sperm, it never worked” Steve’s eyes burned a hole into the computer screen angry at everything that he was hearing.

“Sh-she was a nurse you know? A great one, all the men said they loved going to her because she was just the kindest of them all. She deserved so much better than this.”

“Steve she’s been in cryo for twelve years… they wrote down when they were put in and taken out, she was never taken out twelve years ago”

“Jesus. Right, gather everything you can on Y/n and I’ll meet you on the jet”

Leaving Natasha to do what she did best he went to the jet, he stood there watching as Bucky stroke his fingers through the top of her head, not taking his eyes off her face.

“I-I’ve put blankets on her from the back, she’s still freezing Stevie.”

“Buck, there’s something I need to tell you about her.”

“What is it?”

“She’s like us, she’s got the serum too. T-they were trying to impregnate her with-with your… you know, and Nat found out that she’s been in cryo for twelve years”

“T-they don’t care do they? They don’t care who they hurt or the pain they inflict, they-they’ve hurt the sweetest, big hearted person and for what? Just to leave her in there for all those years? It’s my fault isn’t it?”

“No Buck, it’s not your fault-“

“It has to be, I kept saying her name when they first got me. I didn’t want to forget her so I kept saying her name and look what happened!”

“Bucky it’s not- don’t try and interrupt me- it’s not your fault. But we’ve found her and she’s going to come home with us and we can help her”

“Did she do bad things too?” His voice was so small and quiet that it was lucky that Steve had enhanced hearing otherwise he wouldn’t have heard what his friend said.

“Yes but Buck we know her, we know she’s a good person just like you she’s been made to do bad but we can help her, I promise you”

“We’ll all defend her tin-man” Tony says, when both men look over they see the four of them nodding in agreement.

Two weeks after finding his only love and brining her back to the compound Bucky refused to move away from her hospital bed, on the fourth day Steve had to beg him to come with him to get some food - it wasn’t until his stomach growled in hunger that he finally accepted Steve’s offer, he left her with a kiss on her forehead and made Natasha and Wanda watch over her, made them both promise to ring him the second Y/n started to stir awake.

Steve then tried to get him to leave just so he could get a good night sleep or to have a shower but the brunette shrugged him off - it wasn’t until Dr Cho came in and told him to get a shower, told him that he should be clean and smell nice for when Y/n woke up. That had him running to his room and showering quickly before running back down to her.

It was better than nothing.

“Steve?”

“Mhm”

“What’s Fury going to do when Y/n wakes up?”

“Nothing, him and Tony have already pleaded her case and all she’s got to do when she wakes is give all the information she can remember. Fury is positive that she’ll be be fully pardoned and he thinks that she could be an asset to the team, that is if she wants to stay”

“W-why-do you think she’ll want to leave?”

“I don’t know Bucky”

“Would you be mad at me if I left with her?”

“No. I would be mad though if you didn’t invite me over for dinner” Bucky let out a laugh whilst he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

Steve and Wanda had left after spending a couple of hours keeping Bucky company as he watched over Y/n, he was just starting to drift off to sleep when he felt her hand twitch.

“Y/n? Doll?” Another twitch. “Doll, come on wake up”

Bucky shot straight up knocking the chair backwards when Y/n jumped up out of the bed, falling down instantly, he watched as she pulled herself to the wall bringing her knees to her chest, her eyes moving around the room frantically. Her voice hoarse as she mumbles softly to herself, Bucky slowly moved around the bed.

“Doll? Y/n it-its me Bucky”

“Bucky?”

“Yes, yes it’s me” she says his name again, her teared filled eyes looking straight at him. “You’re safe.”

“W-where are we?”

“Somewhere safe, I promise.”

“They will be here for me” slowly standing up, ignoring the blood seeping down her arm she moved over to Bucky. “I-I need to leave, I need to go back home, they-they’ll be mad at me”

“Y/n hey, hey stop, doll look at me, they aren’t looking for you okay? You’re safe here, I’m not letting anyone hurt you again. I promise”

“You promise?”

“I promise” Bucky moved closer as soon as she was in reach he pulled her in his chest, squeezing her tightly, repeatedly pressing his lips to her hair.

Helen came in a little later to run some checks, talking to Y/n like she was an actual person and not like she was a nobody like she was use to, when she said thank you it meant more than just a simple gesture. The next day Steve, Sam and Wanda walked into the hospital room shocked to seeing Y/n sitting up and talking to Bucky, though they had slowly gotten use to seeing Bucky coming out of his shell even after all these years of knowing him Sam and Wanda stood there watching Bucky be a whole new person, the only person that didn’t find it weird was Steve who had a huge smile on his face, happy to see his best friend finally happy and at peace now that he had Y/n with him.

When Fury got word that she was awake he came down to see her, she answered all of the questions he had as best as she could. Fury reassured both her and Bucky that nothing would happen to her.

A month after waking up Y/n hand in hand with Bucky sat in a room with the team standing behind them, Fury at the end of the table and members of the government in front of them. She was nervous to hear what punishment she was going to receive, yes Fury promised that she wouldn’t be but when Bucky finally caved and told her all of the crimes she was connected to - not only did her heart break at hearing the things that she did but she feared what kind of punishment she was going to receive, she felt like she needed to be.

“Y/n L/n you are granted a full pardon, but you will need to be a part of the Avengers-“

“That’s not what we agreed on!” Fury interrupted the man.

“It’s the best thing-“

“I’ll do it. I-I need to do it” Y/n nodded.

Bucky and Steve had to beg Tony not to throw a party to celebrate Y/n’s freedom and her new role in the team of superheroes, he reluctantly agreed but told them they needed to do something as a team for her. Bucky told him a nice meal would do, it wouldn’t push her out of the comfort zone she had created for herself, so that’s what they did. Their laughter throughout the meal bounced off the walls as Y/n was retelling her memories of the antics Bucky would get up to during camp, told them how she managed to push Steve in to the river when he refused to go into the water.

In that month Bucky had been sleeping in bed with Y/n after she begged him to stay with her, and that night was no different. The team no longer heard Bucky’s screams because he no longer had nightmares.

“Y/n”

“Yeah?”

“I never stopped loving you, you know?”

“I’ve never stopped loving you either.” She smiled up at him. Slowly their lips met, both sighing at the familiar feeling that they had been deprived of feeling for nearly eighty years.

Just as Bucky closed his eyes to get some sleep he began chuckling when he heard Y/n’s question.

“Are you still going to marry me so I can put up with you for the rest of my life?”

“I made a promise didn’t I?”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader. #bucky fic #Bucky Barnes angst #bucky x y/n angst #bucky x y/n fluff #Bucky x you #Bucky x y/n #bucky x you fluff #bucky x reader angst #Bucky x you angst #tw miscarriage #tw forced breeding

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 23] Apologies

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“What do you need, Satoru?” You’re more than annoyed when you’re called into his office. You cross your arms, raising your brow as you look at him. The man looks a little too comfortable in his chair, and you’ve seem to stop caring about how he behaves. If you looked closer, you’d see him fidgeting with his fingers, something he rarely does.

“I was wondering…” He begins, and you feel yourself get more and more irritated by the second. He’s wasting your time. “Do you have any plans on Friday?”

“Work, and maybe take Ren to the movie theater to watch a new kids’ movie.” You answer, and at first you don’t understand why he asks. But then it clicks, and you find yourself even more irritated than before… He’s not planning on asking you out, is he? He’s not crazy enough to do that, at least you hope he isn’t. Satoru has changed a lot, you never know just how crazy he’s gotten.

“Can we go out?” He blurts out, tripping over his words and it almost makes you laugh because he’s so nervous. But then you realize that he’s actually asking you out, and you furrow your brows. 

“Ren is coming along, right?” You question before deciding to berate him. Maybe you’re reading things wrong, and you don’t want to argue with him for no reason, so you allow him to make himself clear. But he shakes his head, and you try to take a deep breath to gather your thoughts, “What do you want, Satoru?”

“I feel like we have to properly talk about everything, and sadly, we can’t do that when Ren is around.” Satoru says, and he isn’t wrong, but you don’t really want to fix anything if it means that you have to be alone with him for an extended period of time. You’re not sure what you’d do if you were alone with him, the moment you get your hands on him you might strangle him. 

“I don’t feel like it’s time yet, Satoru.” You tell him, and he bites his tongue. He thinks of how to argue with you, make a point that going with him is a smart decision. It’ll improve your relationship so you can be better parents to Ren.

“Ren notices there’s something wrong with us and he wonders why.” Satoru points out which isn’t a lie. When Ren was staying over he asked why you were so mean to him or something like that, and Satoru didn’t know how to explain himself. But he knows well that it isn’t the reason why he’s asking you to dinner. 

“Why don’t you tell him that it’s because his dad is a little–” You begin but you cut yourself off. You’re mad at him, you can’t deny that, but it seems that he just wants to make sure your relationship is better so you can parent Ren cordially. You have been rather mean with him lately, so you’ll control your tongue. “I just don’t see the point of going out alone, our relationship can get better with Ren there..”

“Don’t you want to talk about heavier topics? You’ll have to tell me what’s on your mind, and you know that having Ren there isn’t the best idea.” Satoru argues, and you hate the fact that he’s actually making a good point. “It’s a nice place.”

“Fine, just text me the address and the dress code. Don’t take me anywhere too fancy, I usually don’t like the food there.” You answer, and Satoru nods in response. He has very different plans. Ones that probably aren’t crossing your mind. 

Ren is fairly surprised when you tell him that you’re going out with his daddy– And you aren’t taking him along. He’s unsure what you could possibly do, but when he hears that he’s staying with your mom, he stops caring quickly. Ren loves spending time with his grandmother, so he doesn’t have an issue being with her all night. 

“Where are we going?” You ask Satoru when you get into his car, and he tells you that it’s a surprise. You’re not exactly excited nor do you wonder what the surprise is. The car ride is quiet, Satoru tries to make conversation that you don’t care to engage in even though you know you should. This is to talk about the issues that you have, but you don’t really want to talk.

He turns right, and you’re met with a gate which makes you furrow your brows. Where the hell did he take you? The gate opens and he drives into the place. The house is beautiful, you can’t deny it, but you have no idea why you’re here. 

“Why are we here?” You ask him when he parks the car. Are you here for business? The lights are on so you assume someone lives in the place. He’s fighting back a smile, getting out of his car and running to your side to open the door for you.

“We’re meeting someone here.” He tells you, and you almost roll your eyes. You should’ve known dinner couldn’t have gone so smoothly. “I promise it’ll be fun, nothing weird.”

“I have no option to trust you, do I?” You respond, following behind him after getting out of the car. You look at the house, one that you could only afford in your dreams. Well actually, it isn’t impossible now. Regardless, it’d take so many years of your own effort to buy it. 

You get confused when he opens the door with his own key, and you sigh, knowing that he’s just going to show off his new place. You step inside, and the place is bare, which is to be expected since it seems new. You clear your throat before speaking up, “Who exactly are we meeting?”

He grabs your hand, and you roll your eyes again but you don’t yank your hand out of his grasp. He takes you to the huge kitchen, and he points to the person you’re meeting. Satoru says, “This is our chef for the night. He’ll make whatever you want to eat.”

“Oh.” You’re fairly shocked, but you aren’t too mad. “Okay…”

“I hope it’s better than a restaurant.” Satoru laughs, trying to play it off as a thoughtful act. It is creative, and you can’t exactly complain. But you know that part of the reason he does this is because he doesn’t really remember what you like. “C’mon let’s take a seat. I’ll tell him what we want when you decide.”

“Well… What can I order?” You ask curiously, wondering what the chef has on hand. Sometimes you forget that Satoru is filthy rich and can buy out an entire grocery store without an issue. 

“He’ll make anything you want.” Satoru answers with a smile as he leads you to the dining room. It has a huge table, one that reminds you of his mother’s house. It’s huge, it can fit many people, but most of the time it’ll be empty. He waits for you to take a seat, knowing that if he takes a seat first, you’ll go as far away as possible. “When you decide I’ll tell him.”

“I really don’t know. You can pick.” You respond, pulling a chair and taking a seat. He takes a seat right beside you, and you tense up. You can’t help but point out, “You have so many other chairs.”

“We’re here to talk, are we not?” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. He isn’t wrong, but he doesn’t have to sit so close when there are so many other chairs. You don’t want him so close. He clears his throat before saying, “Dinner is for you, you can pick.”

“I guess…” You try to come up with something but you don’t. Satoru taps his finger on the table, growing impatient. “Can’t you just pick? I’ve already been forced to be here tonight.”

“Fine.” Satoru ends up sighing. He stands up and walks to the kitchen to put in his request, leaving you alone to stare at your surroundings. It’s a beautiful home, but you would change the little decorations that you’ve seen. It’s not up to you anyway.

You hear your phone ring, grabbing it from your purse. You notice that Suguru calls, and you debate on rejecting the phone call– You’ve been ignoring him for so long, but it’s about time you answer his call. Satoru is in another room so you can make it quickly. You end up picking up the phone, bringing it to your ear, “Hi Suguru.”

“Hi…” He answers, sounding shocked that you actually picked up the phone. “Can we talk?”

“Um…” You don’t know how to answer. You just know you have to do it before Satoru gets back because you’re not sure that Suguru hearing Satoru’s voice is a good idea. You don’t know your way around the house, but you stand up from your chair and walk out of the living room, just in case Satoru gets back and makes himself known. “Actually, I’m out to dinner with someone so I can’t right now… Do you want to meet up soon?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” He agrees. “So, what do you want to do?”

“How about we meet at a café?” You ask, and you hear Satoru call out your name, telling you that you have to hang up the phone. “I’ll text you the details, I have to go now. Bye.”

You hang up the phone, and turn around to find Satoru, who finally spots you. He raises his brows, asking, “Who were you talking to?”

“Does it concern you?” You reply which makes Satoru chuckle. He guesses it doesn’t. You two walk back to the dining room, sitting back in the same spots. You start off with a simple appetizer, and some drinks, food that you know Satoru loves. You eat in silence, and you’re forced to speak up, “You insisted that we have to talk, so talk, Satoru.”

“I want to… Apologize.” He begins and when he doesn’t get any more specific, you reply with,

“For?” 

“For…” It’s hard to get the words out even though he knows exactly what he should apologize for. He bites down his lip as he gathers his words. How can he say it without sounding like a total jerk. He blurts out, and you barely understand what he says, “For leaving you when you needed me without an explanation.”

“And?” You respond because he’s still missing a bit. You feel yourself getting more annoyed by his silence, and you have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. “I mean, you left me for money, is that the best you can do?”

“I just don’t know how to properly apologize, you should know I’m not used to apologies.” He claims, and you roll your eyes. Of course he says that instead of thinking of a way to apologize better. He watches you cross your arms, a look of clear anger on your face. “I shouldn’t have done that, I know.”

“You know? But you changed your number and completely cut me out of your life– And not for love, because as much as it hurts, I would’ve preferred you leaving me because you fell in love with someone else… Maybe I would’ve understood it better.” You begin, and you feel your heart break again. You thought you had gotten used to the fact that Satoru left you for his own financial benefit. “I don’t even get why you cut me off completely… Maybe if you had explained everything to me then maybe I could have stuck around but you decided that you wanted me out of your life completely.”

“I just thought you deserved to move on and forget about me.” Satoru argues, and your hands ball up into fists. He’s trying to save his own ass, and it bugs you. The benevolent Satoru. “I just didn’t know you were pregnant with Ren.”

“You know, Satoru, it hurts to know that you were fine with leaving me like nothing– And honestly I’m glad that you cut me off when I was about to tell you that I thought I was pregnant.” You feel tears well up in your eyes but you hold them back. It’s fine, you’re fine. You’re over it. You are. “Have I never been worth anything to you?”

“Of course you do, you are–” You cut him off before he can finish his sentence.

“Not just as Ren’s mother, because before that I was your friend and your girlfriend for so many years.” You try not to let it show that you’re deeply hurt, but it shows. It’s hard not to because the man that you swore you would spend the rest of your life with quickly disregarded your relationship… And the only reason he seems to regret everything is because of his son. “Was your love just a lie?”

“It’s not like that. You know that I love you so much.” He says and his words sting. How dare he say that he loves you? How does he have the audacity to say that? “I just…”

“Just what?” You don’t even give him a chance to finish his sentence. “Don’t you ever say that you love me again, Satoru.”

“You know my mom would’ve made your life miserable if I hadn’t gone with Sayo, in the end, I did what was best for the two of us.” Satoru argues, and you stand up from your chair. You can’t stand to be in the same place as him anymore. He watches you begin to walk away and he has to stand up as well, “Wait, let’s finish this, please. For Ren.”

“No, I have to go. I can’t stand to be in this place with you any longer. You’re so… Why can’t you just admit that you’re fucking selfish? Not only that, just admit that you haven’t cared about me, Satoru. I have always come second to you, and suddenly you’re acting like you aren’t at fault for this, that your mother forced you to make the choice when we both know that you made that choice all on your own.” It genuinely hurts you that Satoru ended up being a completely different person– Or maybe Satoru was this same person all along, you just hadn’t noticed it before.

“You’re right. I did. I made the decision all on my own and I can’t blame anyone else.” He finally admits, which should give you some satisfaction but it doesn’t. You’re taking deep breaths to stop yourself from crying but the tears are coming down your face. Satoru’s heart breaks as he finally watches you break down, and he steps toward you to comfort you. He pulls you into a hug, “I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.”

It’s so tempting to hug him back, but you can’t. You push him away, you don’t want to be met by his warm embrace; you don’t need his comfort. You wipe away your tears, “I’ll forgive you for Ren, but don’t you ever try anything with me.”

“Okay…” He responds, but knowing Satoru, the last part went in one ear and out the other. “C’mon, let’s sit down, our main course is almost ready.”

“I want to go back home to my baby boy.” You tell him, and Satoru sighs. He can’t argue and say anything that’ll make you want to stay a little longer, so he won’t keep you here.

“I also had a surprise for you.” Satoru mentions, but you aren’t really interested. “I’ll tell you when it’s more ready though, and when you’re less mad at me.”

“Let’s just go.” You respond, really not caring to ask. He doesn’t spark curiosity in you. Just as you begin to walk out of the dining room, your chef comes out with the main course. He sets it down on the table, and your eyes spark. You look back at Satoru a little shocked but you proceed to tell him, “I changed my mind.”

“Really?” He has to fight a smirk off his face. You really thought you had him read like a book, but perhaps you are wrong in some aspects. He jokingly asks, “Why is that?”

It’s your favorite meal.

#[changes] #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

[safination]

Partners in Death... and Life

Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted

| Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Part 4: The Radio Star’s Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| |Masterlist| ao3| Tag-list| Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Please take note of the following warnings: Body horror. Graphic descriptions of injuries, glass piercing skin, cutting of skin, cutting of chest. Dissection of Human muscles. Misogyny Just…be careful out there Hello. I usually aim to post on Wednesdays, and I knoooow it's not a Wednesday. But, in my defense, this chapter is longer than chapters 1 and 2 combined. Also, I tried to keep the body horror to a medium level. I tried to find a perfect balance of horrifying but also still readable. Would you guys want more body horror, or less, or is this a good amount?

The heart monitor beeps with a steady rhythm. The model’s ECG reading dip, but that’s normal for her species. You study the model asleep on your table, and take your place.

Turning to your interns, you adjust the fit of your gloves as say, “Are you ready?

From the other side of the table, Lys nods her head with such vigor that you’re afraid it would fall off. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be!”

Heme takes their place next to you, wheeling the cart within your reach. “Aren’t there supposed to be more people here?” they ask, adjusting the fit of their mask with their shoulder. “We don’t even have an anesthesiologist present, and the technician dumped the tools and left without a word!”

Sighing, you take another look at the screen, and monitor the patient’s ECG readings. Just a couple of decades ago, you wouldn’t even be allowed to take five steps into a surgical suite, but in your death, you stare at the state-of-the-art Vox technology heart monitor.

“This was dumped at the last minute. And the Vees paid a hefty amount for the best,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I guess it doesn’t help that most of the staff have clocked-off for the night already.”

“It really doesn’t,” Heme says. You think they frown, you’re not actually sure. It’s hard to tell with masks on, but Heme sounds like they’re frowning.

“On the bright side, this is a special case, and special cases require special means,” you say. “Stick around, and I’ll make sure to show you something amazing.”

Lys squeals, jumping a bit, “I can’t wait to see your work.”

You turn to Heme. “Tell how you were guided into stopping the bleeding by Doctor Neisseria.”

Heme straightens, round their shoulders. “Hemostatic dressing for the capillaries,” they recite. “Then Lys clipped the bigger vessels, and Doctor Neisseria used an electrocautery for any that we missed.”

“Good,” you say. “Lys, is this your first time using a clip?”

“…Yes,” Lys tells you. Even with a mask on, you could tell she was sulking.

You eye the cart between you and Heme, double checking that the technician brought everything you requested for. “It shows,” you say. “Practice every chance you get. Make a deal with some poor and down on their luck Sinner who wouldn’t mind making a deal for permission to poke around whenever you want. They’ll heal on their own if it’s not too severe…or don’t—I mean, that’s how I did mine.”

Lys blinks at you. “I’ll…keep that in mind.”

Your shoulder slumps. “…Shall we just begin?”

Heme hands you a needle driver, the needle already clipped to it. A bunch of suture forms around your palm. It’s study, and made of pure Sinner Magical Energy, or just magic or whatever. It comes out of your and you have full control, that’s all you need to know.

Heme and Lys lean closer to observe the threads you make.

I don’t get to do this often.” You turn your head, motioning to the detached arm placed on the side. The skin has been stretched and the jagged and stringy muscle fibers sticking out tell you it’s been ripped off rather than slice. The radius protrudes out into the air, jagged and sharp. It would have hurt this model quite a lot. “Steady her arm please.”

Lys snatches the arm, holding it with confidence as she steadies it. “This is so cool.”

Heme hums. “Cool in a gross way.”

“Whether your patient is awake or not, a steady hand is key,” you say. “When you pierce your needle, be sure to do it right at the epidermis when dealing with the skin. Too deep and you’ll puncture the arteries or nerves.”

Lys brings the arm closer, and you do the first suture that will connect the limb of Velvette’s model. Valen-something apparently tore her up, but it wasn’t enough to kill her. So, they rushed her into the Emergency Room three days before this poor girl’s debut, and dropped her into your care with her arm and leg in an ice box.

You sew the model’s arm. The threads around your fingers are light, but sturdy. You entwine some around your fingers like some puppet master for better grip. Blood vessels, bones, nerves, and muscles. Not a single cell escapes your control.  

You quiz your interns from time to time or tell them to take a closer look at where the vessels stick out the muscles, making sure they’re able to observe how a proper reattachment is conducted.

You study the threads connecting the arm to its body There are thousands of loose sutures. One single pull, and it will be completely reattached.

You shift your shoulders and crack your neck, giving it a slight stretch. “How long has it been?”

Lys glances at the clock behind you. “Five hours. I think it’s almost sunrise.”

“Be ready to be here for a while,” you say, rolling your shoulders. “The leg will be more complicated.”

Heme groans and their shoulder slump. “I guess I should just be thankful the model is mostly humanistic.”

You pull on the singular thread, and the stitches shorten until the arm is fully connected to its base. A thing line is the only indication that any limbs have been detached.

The door swings open and you snap your head at the sound.

“Hey doc!” The little Egg Boi saunters into the room, an envelope in his tiny hands. “I got something for you.”

Your feathers crack and sharpen. “If you wish to keep your shell,” you hiss at him, “you will leave this room before you contaminate it further.”

Egg Boi #04 wobbles a bit. “I was told to give you a message.”

A headache forms on your temples. You want to massage it, but that would contaminate your gloves. “Lys, show the egg to the observation room. Show him the microphone.”

Lys pouts a bit but exits the surgical suite.

Heme grabs the leg, and you begin again. You pause to take a deep breath. The threads don’t just appear out of thin air—they’re created because you will them to take shape. It gives as much as it needs to take from you.

Egg Boi# 04’s voice echoes on the speaker. “I have a note for you.”

“Read it then leave.” You pierce the tibia bone with your needle (special hell needle, you guess. Normal needles definitely cannot pierce bones) and connect it to the model’s leg.

Your concentration does not waver, even as Lys enters back into the room.

“My dearest good doctor,” Egg Boi #04 reads. “What a helltastic day for –"

“Stop!” you exclaim, and the threads you’re producing fizzle a bit, “Is that from Alastor?”

“Uhhh…yes?”

“Give me 10 minutes.” You sew the model’s leg just like before, starting from bones, then vessels, the muscles, and finally skin, but this time at a much faster pace.  

Thousands of strings connect the detached leg to its place.

Heme gawks at you. “I thought the leg was more complicated?”

“It is.”

“It took you five minutes to sew everything,” they say. “Why did it take the arm until sunrise?”

“You wouldn’t have been able to learn anything if I went too fast.” You hand the needle driver to Heme, who takes it with eager hands “I trust you will be able to close for me?”

“Yes!”

“Go around the skin—remember not too deep,” you say. “Once it’s all connected, just one strong pull and the threads should work their magic. Lys, once she closes, you can practice your knots.”

The door closes with a swing. You discard your gloves then peel off your protective layers, but you keep the scrub cap on your head.

The Egg Boi waddles into the room, threatening to tip any moment. He holds up Alastor’s note and you’re forced to bend when you reach for it.

You open the envelope and sigh. “This is a letter, and definitely not a note,” you say counting all the pages jammed into the envelope. “Notes are small pieces of paper, and not fifteen pages of paper scribbled back-to-back.”

You take one deep breath, flaring your nostrils as you contemplate your marriage choices, and begin reading.

Heme enters the holding room as you’re reading through the last page.

They take a look at the pages you’ve read. “Ohhhhh a letter?” they say, discarding their mask into the trash. Their gloves are next. “Who is it from?”

“My husband.”

“Why a letter?” Heme asks you “Why not just shoot you a text or a phone call?”

“He mumbles to himself when he writes, and he just loves hearing his own voice.” You turn to the Egg Boi once you’ve read the last word. “Tell Alastor I’m busy—I can’t leave work to go to the hotel on such short notice!”

“Right….” Heme leans against the sink. “Management will be dropping by this afternoon.”

Your eyes squint. “This afternoon? I was told there'd be visiting tomorrow!”

“Yes, they informed you last night,” Heme says. “It’s tomorrow now—morning, actually.”

Your eyes twitch as your turn to Egg Boi #4. “Tell him I will be early. Now go, run along now, least you get scrambled.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Bustling sounds from the other side of the circus themed doors. You knock then take a step backwards, least Vaggie greets you with a fist to the face.

A crash sounds from the inside. The door slams open, and Charlie pops out, hair disheveled and sticking out in odd places. You see the relief oozing into her. Charlie’s smile relaxes and her eyes stop bulging at the sight of you.

She says your name with enthusiasm. “It’s just you! I am so glad to see you.”

You wave at her. “Hello, Charlie. It’s good to see you as well.”

“Would you like to come inside?” she says at the same time another crash sounds. Charlie’s smile turns sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

“It’s quite alright,” you say with a polite smile. “Who am I to judge another person’s mess? It can be quite entertaining sometimes.”

 Charlies smoothens the stray hairs sticking out. It does little to actually fix it. “Sooooo what brings you by? Not that you’re not welcome here! Everyone is welcome here! We don’t discriminate at –”

The door swings wider and Alastor pops out with that permanent smile of his. “I called her here.”

Alastor helps you out of your coat as you enter through the doors, and drapes it over his arm. “I came early. I hope you don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the crudely attached banners. Strobe lights are being taped to the railings. Its brightness makes you blink. “Are you throwing a party? Is that why you called me here?”

Alastor hangs your coat on the rack. “We’re preparing for a sudden guest,” he says. “It seems we’ll have to delay our plans, only if you’re happy with waiting for me.”

Charlie shrinks and her eyes water a bit. “Alastor…,” she says with a frown. “If you have plans, that’s alright—go. We can manage without you here!”

“Not at all, this is where he needs to be right now,” you tell Charlie, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her smile brightens immediately. “Who will be the special guest today?”

Charlie fiddles with her fingers. “We…invite my…dad.”

Alastor twirls his microphone. “The King of Hell himself.”

“Oh,” you start, “the demon is coming here?”

“That’s actually Satan,” Charlie says with a smile. “Dad often gents confused with Satan but they’re not the same

“Oh…So, Lucifer is coming here.”

“Pretty much.”

You laugh a bit—you’re not even sure why. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. It sounded so awkward, even to you. “Well, how can I help? If it’s alright with you, of course.”

Charlie’s eyes brighten, and she shakes your shoulders. “Are you sure?”

Alastor grabs Charlie’s fingers with the tip of his own and pry them off you. “I’ve already come all this way,” you say, and turn to your husband. “I’m sure we can make the most out of this situation.”

Charlie leaves to change her clothes, and hopefully brush her hair while she’s at it.

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his, even when you know it’s unnecessary to escort you to a living area that’s five-feet away.

He leaves you, walking to the kitchen with a wave of his microphone.

The hotel looks the same, just more diverse colors hanging around. Niffty stalks past you without a word, engrossed in her task of sweeping the floor. Angel Dust or Vaggie don’t seem to be around, nor is Husk at his usual post. Only a one-eyed cat keeps you company.

On the table,  deflated balloons are left forgotten with two pumps resting next to it. You take your seat, and complete the unfinished task.

You’re on the third balloon when Alastor presents a mug to you.

He leans over the chair, reaching his arms to place that ‘Oh Deer’ mug on the table. It’s difficult to meet his eyes when he leans so far in front that his whole face is upside down.

His hair hangs in the air, and your husband looks goofy in such an awkward position that you can’t help but laugh. “You look awful this hellish morning!” he says, and his grin widens until his teeth show. “I thought you could use a bit of brightening up. You’re practically dozing off in the chair.”

 “Thank you,” you say, a small smile on your face. “The coffee smells good.”

Alastor swings back, and lands next to you. “I know we agreed to leave such tasks to you,” he says and he waves his arms as he talks. “But you look ready to drop dead any second. Poor Niffty had swept about a hundred feathers on your short walk from the door to this chair—Long day?”

“Longer day, actually. Yesterday’s long day turned into a late night that bleeds into today’s early morning.” You take a sip, and revel in its taste. Even after all these years…his coffee still tastes like acidic bean water. (If you smile, then that’s your business.) “The coffee tastes good.”

Alastor crosses his leg, cracking a laugh hard enough for his eyes to bulge. “You didn’t even try to check if it’s been tampered,” he says with that same wild smile. “Are you that tired, my love?”

You smile at him, lips curving bright and wide. “My deerest, did you place something into my coffee?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s disappointing,” you say, taking another sip. “That suit of yours could use some brightening up! A splash of this bean water would add such an interesting texture to it.”

“We’ll it good to see you’re not tired enough to lose your way with words,” Alastor says, smiling at you. “But if you’ve had a ‘longer’ day, you could have sent the Egg Boy—"

“It’s Egg Boi, my deerest.”

Alastor squints, his brow furrowing as he does. “That’s what I said.”

“You said Egg Boy, deerest,” you tell him, taking a longer sip than usual to drown your laughter. “Those eggs are called Egg Bois. They have different numbers—except Frank.”

On the corner of his cheek—just where it’s always been—Alastor’s smile strains. “You said the same thing as I did.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

You chuckle a bit, and take another long slip. “If you say so.”

Alastor rolls his eyes and he makes it a point to show you he’s doing so. “You could have mentioned to that egg creature that you’d had a long day.”

“Management was dropping by my floor today.” You grab another balloon to pump it.

Alastor’s head tilts, and you hear the small crack of his neck. Static fills the air. “Well, I’m always glad to be used in such a way.”

You roll your eyes, making it a point to show Alastor that you’re doing so. The sharpened feathers and the glow of your eyes were just for the fun of it. “There is another reason why I dropped by the hotel.”

“Do tell!”

You knot the end of the balloon and throw it to the side. “Who am I to refuse the summon of the Radio Demon?”

“His wife.”

You snort, and toss a balloon at him. One balloon becomes two and now you’re just tossing whatever balloon you could get your hands on.

Alastor pops a balloon and static emits from his microphone.

You cross your arms, staring down at him. “I was going to use that.”

Alastor grabs the second pump. 

An hour passes too soon. They always seem to do around your husband. The balloons are stringed and weighted. Razzle and Dazzle—the two lambs Charlie made a point to introduce you too—put up a…er… interesting banner on the railings.

Sir Pentious slithers out the kitchen, a tray of cookies in his hold. The Hazbin Hotel looks lively. The space looks decent—live in — as if Sinners actually gathered and used the space. (Those are your favorite kind.)

Sir Pentious offers a cookie to you, and you munch on it. You give him a compliment for its taste.

By the entrance, with Vaggie to her side and Alastor at the other, Charlie takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she does.

Vaggie gives her a smile, and Charlie opens the door.

The bringer of sin rushes to his daughter, drowning her in a hug.“Chaaaaarlie!”

Charlie squirms in his hold. “Heeeyy, Dad!”

Egg Boi #13 and Egg Boi #08 twist their poppers and confetti pops into the air. Niffty grabs her broom, sweeping the floor.

You watch Lucifer, and try to hide your smile. The King of Hell looks different from any paintings or drawings humans make. They can’t seem to capture how shy he looks. How awkward. No painting has been able to capture his search for a place to belong.

This Fallen Angel has blond hair. He’s not the brunette you thought he’d be, which was a shame for you rather liked brunets. It makes sense he’d be blond. Afterall, Charlie has blonde hair as well, and she is the spitting image of her father.

If someone told you it was Lucifer who birthed her, you wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“It’s finally nice to put a name to the face.” Alastor shakes Lucifer’s hand with his microphone, wiping his own right after. “You are much shorter in real life.”

You turn aways, coughing to hide your laughter as Alastor banters with Lucifer.

Husk rolls his eyes at you and grumbles. “Of course, you’d find that hilarious,” he says. “Everyone knows it's smart to insult Lucifer.”

You place a hand on your cheek. “Guilty as charged.”

Charlie brings Lucifer to meet your group. He calls Vaggie, Maggie. Smiles awkwardly when Angel Dust calls him a ‘short king’. Lucifer waves back when Husk waves at him, and shrinks when Niffty jumps and pulls him by the collar. One by one, you’re introduced.

You extend your arm for a handshake.

Lucifer smiles awkwardly, shrinking a bit, but reaches out to shake your ha—

The chandelier crashes to the floor.

And oh God…

Lucifer begins to sing.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Your hair sticks to your face.

Water droplets splash on your clothes. You accept your fate, and trudge through the rain, even as your fingers freeze. The breeze blows your hair, making you nuzzle into your damp coat. You should have brought an umbrella, or taken a cab. Just your luck, a sunny day turns into a drizzle that turns your shoes into a lake. You hate damp socks.

An umbrella blocks the rain from your soaked clothes.

You spring out of its coverage, spinning to look behind. Your arms jerk out, causing you to wobble because of the wet pavement. (That’s totally not embarrassing.)

 “The point of an umbrella is to stay underneath it when it’s raining.” Alastor smiles, giving you a small wave.

You wave back.

“Oh…hello,” you say, adjusting the straps of your bag. Alastor takes a step forward, and you jump backwards. “I’m alright—I can manage by myself.”

“Why don’t you tell me all about your very capable self from underneath the umbrella,” he says, twirling the umbrella. “Come on, now.”

You dip your head inside. Alastor inches closer, but there’s still a respectable gap between your shoulders. “I’m really alright,” you say. “I quite love the rain.”

“Yes, the rain is a beautiful thing to frolic underneath when you’re in a meadow,” Alastor says. You can’t help but feel that Alastor is scolding you, “not when it splashes off buildings and drips off power lines and other items that have not been cleaned. We are in the city, my dear.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“My mother would roll in her grave and haunt me when she finds out I left a lady in the rain.”

“But—”

“Constant refusal is quite rude, you know,” he tells you. “And I still owe you one favor.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Alastor says with a smile that makes you smile back. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’m happy to leave my umbrella in your umbrella-less but capable hands, and be on my way.”

You shake your head, inching closer. “We can share if you don’t mind walking.”

“I love walks. It keeps me stimulated.”

Alastor follows your every step, covering you with an umbrella that was meant for one. You glance at his shoulder, and turn away to hide your frown. Half of his shoulder sticks out into the rain, gathering droplets, while not a single speck of water slides on you.

Alastor is giving you the bigger half of the umbrella.

“Would you mind holding this?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you say, and take a hold of his umbrella. Alastor is taller, and you have to quirk your arms higher to avoid hitting his head.

Alastor slips out of his coat. You watch him slide it off his shoulders and pull his arm out the slits. He’s wearing a vest—a fine vest as well. Alastor flicks out stray waterdrops. He leans close enough for you to smell his cologne. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, grabbing the lapels to adjust its fit. His body heat lingers. It’s warm…he’s warm.

Alastor pries the umbrella from your grip with a wide smile. “Before you say anything, the only response that I will be accepting is, ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you, Alastor.”

“You’re welcome.” He adjusts the angle of the umbrella, careful to keep every drop of rain from touching you, even at the cost of his own clothes. “Whatever made you decide to walk?  There are cabs and busses for a reason.”

“It wasn’t that bad when I started,” you say. “Plus, I was eager to get home.”

He keeps his eyes ahead. “It’s still quite dangerous.”

You step over a puddle, narrowly missing it. “Dangerous?”

“Yes!”

“The sun is—well, was still up when I began walking.”

Alastor hums, shaking his head. “Murders and thieves do not magically dissolve in the sun.”

You smile to yourself. “I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable on that subject.”

Alastor turns to you, and his hair shifts as he tilts his head. “Pardon?”

“I heard your voice on the radio this morning,” you tell him, adjusting his coat around your shoulders. “I caught the news segment.”

“Well,” he starts, his smile widening. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “you must have been busy when I mentioned the forecast then.”

You inch closer as much as he’ll allow you, trying to keep a respectable distance, but still close enough that Alastor doesn’t need to sacrifice his clothes to keep yours dry. “Speaking of radio, what brings you to this area?” you say. “Isn’t the radio station all the way across town?”

Alastor laughs in a way that makes you wish you’ve kept your mouth shut. “Have you been tracking my movements?”

“Not at all,” you say and try to mimic his laugh. It comes out strained instead. “I just know how to read a map.”

Alastor steps over a puddle. He places a hand on your back, guiding you away from it. “I just had some business in the area,” he says and drops his hand. “I turned the corner and I found you walking all alone in the rain!”

You smile, careful to keep your eyes forward. “I’m thankful to whatever beings that fated our paths to cross.”

Alastor leans closer, eyeing your hands. “Been gardening recently?”

You glance at your nails, at where stubborn soil sticks underneath the cuticle. “No…not at all,” you say slowly. “I guess you could say…light treasure hunting…?”

“The more I get to know you, the more I find myself dumbfounded at your wide range of hobbies.”

“I hate seeing things go to waste.” You try to ignore the squish of your socks. You are definitely never forgetting your umbrella again. “For example, your garbage is my treasure.”

“What a wonderful philosophy to live by.” Alastor meets your eyes and smiles.

You smile back. “Indeed, isn’t it?”

Alastor’s hold on the umbrella stays firm, even as he follows you around the corner and across the street. Not a single drop of water lands on you. “What treasure were you able to find?”

“You have a lot of questions for me today,” you say and ignore the thumping of your heart. “I feel as if you know me more than I know you—I think that’s rather unfair.”

“Well, what would you like to know?”

You move your foot to avoid puddles of trash. The city could really use a good cleaning. “You know so much about my hobbies. So, I’d like to know some of yours.”

“There isn’t really much to tell,” he says. “The radio is my life.”

A strong breeze has you sinking deeper into Alastor’s coat. “You have your hunts.”

You glance at Alastor, and oh…his hair is as brown as his eyes. Wisps of hair stick to his face because of the rain.

Alastor’s brows furrow a bit, but you swear his smile turns sweet. “Those are more of… a necessity than a hobby.”

“In what way?”

“The woods around my area have a lot of… let’s say… mammals that don’t necessarily belong there, it is as if someone just leaves them from time to time. I hunt a few here and there to thin the population a bit.”

You smile to yourself. “Well, tell me about the radio—What is that like?”

He places his free hand on his chest. “Why, it is the proper medium of expressing oneself, of course.”

“It must be nice having such a creative outlet,” you say. “Sometimes, I wonder how you’re able to come up with the most exciting segments.”

“Sadly, you would think after all these years of bringing success and money into the company, I would be allowed to have more control over my content.”

You step over another puddle. A small tug on Alastor’s arm, and he steps over it as well. “That is quite sad to hear.”

“For example,” he starts, adjusting his hold on the umbrella. “I wanted to have this whole portion just on crimes that have been committed.”

“Like… the news?”

“No, not at all,” he says. “I was thinking more on the lines of old cases like robberies and murders—some solved, some not. Unfortunately, the director said it would be too gruesome.”

“It really depends on how you choose to present it,” you say. “I think audiences would love a good mystery with a satisfying conclusion.”

“That is exactly what I thought so as well!” Alastor’s smile widens. “I came across this story…Oh, well I wouldn’t want to bother you with the details.”

“I’d love to hear this,” you say, chuckling. “Show me how you would present it.”

“One winter night,” he starts off with that never ending smile on his lips, “a child—no ordinary child—disappears in the middle of the night. There were no signs of a break in and nothing other than the child was taken from the home. Not a single dust was out of place.”

“Wait, what was so special about the child?”

“I will tell you,” he says. “That child was the two-year old son of aviator Charles Lindenberg! Some newspapers called the child the ‘Eaglet’ because his father had become the first man to fly across the Atlantic Oce—Oh, why are we stopping?”

He angles the umbrella, careful to keep you dry. You smile at him and point at the small apartment complex behind you. “This is where I live.”

Alastor doesn’t frown, but his smile droops a bit. “Oh…” he says. “I was getting to the most interesting portion of the story—what a shame.”

“A shame, indeed,” you echo. “You have such a captivating way of conveying your words.”

“Thank you.”

The rain splatters on the umbrella. It’s not going to stop anytime soon. Your socks are damp and it’s starting to get colder. “Would you like to finish what you were saying?”

Alastor’s smile widens, just a bit, but it was enough for you to notice. “On the month of May, after continuous searching, a tiny little corpse was found abandoned on the side of the road. Forensics determined that the baby was bludgeoned to death.”

“It’s quite funny,” you tell him. “You talk of such gruesome murders but I find myself captivated.”

“Indeed.”

“Thank you for going out of your way for me, Alastor.” You slip out of his coat, returning it to him. It’s cold—has it always been this cold. “Will I see you around?”

“Of course,” he says. “We always meet in such unconventional places.”

You duck out of the umbrella, giving him one last smile and head up the steps.  A twist of a doorknob, a few flights of stairs, and you would be home. You were tired, your socks are soaking, and the back of your clothes stick to your skin. So, why…why do you find yourself running back into the rain?

“Wait!” you find yourself exclaiming.

Alastor covers you with his umbrella. “What’s wrong?”

‘I… I may have a problem.” The words are slipping out of your lips. “Are you busy by any chance?”

“Not at all.”

“What about your business in the area?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I can always come back.”

 “Would you help me?” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Of course.” Alastor brings the umbrella closer to you. “What can I do for you?”

“I think…” you begin to say. Stop. Stop! You should turn back; head inside where warm clothes and a bath awaits you. “I think I’m in the wrong area.”

Alastor laughs, and it’s that same breathy and light laugh as before. He drapes his coat over your shoulder once more, and adjusts its fit to secure it around you. It’s the warmest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I left a lady stranded in the rain.”

“Not at all,” you say with a smile that you do not remember smiling. “Lots of scary thieves and murders out there—apparently they don’t disappear during the day.”

Alastor nudges you along, down the path, to a destination either of you have the faintest idea where it will end.

Your feet stay locked in its place, and you hold Alastor in your gaze. (His bowtie is crooked, and even with his coat around you, he looks presentable. His vest matches his shoes. You note how his smile is asymmetrical, and how his eyes are still as brown as his hair. Alastor’s glasses are frosted, but he doesn’t seem to mind.)

“Are you alright?” Alastor asks you.

“I’m fine. It’s just….” You shake your head and smile. “It would be a waste to forget this.”

“Come on,” Alastor says in a voice that is oh so soft. He offers his arm, and you hook your own around his.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Motherfucker!” Husk curses into the air, his ears quirking as he does. “Would it fucking kill you to be gentle with that shit?”

“I am being gentle.” You stare him down, keeping the towel pressed firm against his foot. “Would you want to know what it’s like when I’m not? I’d be very happy to comply.”

“………No.”

“Then settle down, Husker,” you say and use your free hand to grab the forceps from the hotel’s medical kit. “This will be much easier if you stay still…or don’t and give yourself a harder time. I’m not the one with glass sticking out of my foot.”

Husk sinks into the clinic bed, sulking as he crosses his arms. He picks on the pillow, fidgeting with its seams. “Bitch.”

You raise your eyebrows and huff. “Virgin.”

Husk’s fangs show when he growls. “I am not…grandma.”

Your feathers bristle. It’s smart to keep Husk talking, even if hurling insults is the way to do so. If it keeps him distracted, you won’t complain. “I died in my late twenties…or was it my early thirties — I honestly forget.”

The blood on his foot begins to clot, and you toss the towel to the waste basket. You walk to the sink, rinsing stray droplets of Husk’s blood with soap.

“Settle down then, grandma,” he says with a triumphant smile, and you roll your eyes. “Today, it’s your memories. Tomorrow, it could be anything.”

You plop on the clinic chair, waiting for your hands to dry. “Yes, it would make sense you’re familiar with the signs,” you shoot back, “considering you lived long enough to be called Pawpaw — Is that why you’re a cat?”

Husk barks a laugh, his wings flaring. He grabs the pillow and tosses it to you. It hits the side of the chair and langs on your lap. You pick it up and toss it back at him. “At least my husband didn’t walk out on me for several years without so much as a word.”

You chuckle, and settle his foot on your leg for better access. Taking your forceps, you brush away slivers of glass from Husk’s foot …or would this be his paw?

You clip a shard of glass, and glance at him. When Husk doesn’t whine like a little bitch, you pull a shard and drop it to the metal pan across you. “At least my marriage lasted even through death, Arachnid Simp.”

Husk rolls his eyes. You smile when his whiskers twitch. “Where did you even learn that word?”

“I see you’re not going to deny it.”

Husk sinks deeper into the bed.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you—I don’t know—wore these things called shoes?” You pluck another shard of glass. Husk tries to jerk his foot away, but your hold stays firm. “They were invented a long, long, time ago, and were created to keep your feet protected.”

“Stop talking as if I’m a child.” Husk frowns and his teeth stick out. “Wearing them feels weird.”

“I guess they kind of are weird.” You grab a fresh towel when blood squirts out of Husk’s foot. “You die and then suddenly waking up to see you don’t have toes

A beat passes between you. “Do you…do you not have toes?”

You toss the towel, and pick out the last shard. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

“What does that even mean?” Husk growls, running his palms over his face.

“I…have absolutely no idea.”

You reach into the medical kit, grabbing some dressing. You peel the plastic and toss it to the trash, and press it against his foot.

Egg Boi #03 waddles up to you, a gauze roll in his tiny hands — you weren’t aware the little egg creature was in the room. You thank him with a smile, and wrap the gauze roll around Husk’s paw then his ankle. Satisfied, you clip it in its place.

“You’re all done,” you say. “It might be weird to step on it for a few hours, but it’s not impossible. The glass didn’t puncture you too deep.”

“Good to know.”

“Oh…and just in case, the amount of blood you saw isn’t anything to be scared of. There’s just a lot of tiny vessels on the foot. That’s why it took a while for it to stop,” you say and toss him a new set of gauze rolls and pads.

Husk stares at the items. “I don’t know how to use this.”

You stare at him, leaning into the chair. “Just slap the square on the skin and roll the gauze around your foot.”

Husk hops out of the clinic, keeping pressure off his injury.

It takes a while to clean up after yourself, but Egg Boi #03 keeps you company. The little egg speaks a lot of nonsense, but it’s entertaining nonetheless. You flick the lights, and Egg Boi #03 follows behind you.

The chandeliers had been dragged away, and the glass and debris cleared off the carpet.

Mimzy’s hug makes you take a step back.

You squirm in her hold, placing a placating hand on her shoulders.

“I am sooooo glad you are here!” Mimzy exclaims, shaking your shoulders. “This is like one big reunion, ay. Just between you and me, that Lucifer is a real looker—shame on Alastor for not warning a gal. I would have dressed better, and who knows? Maybe I could be the Queen of Hell. Ha!”

Mimzy grabs your arm and drags you to the bar. Husk pours you a drink with a nod, and stalks away. Seeing him hop up the stairs makes you laugh.

You swirl your drink. “It’s always good to see you, old friend.”

“Not that old!” Mimzy swats your arm, a huge grin on her lips. “And there’s no need to lie to me, darling. I doubt you actually feel that way.”

“Well, I still have those burn marks on my wall from the time you decided to play bartender with matches.”

Mimzy barks a laugh, and her legs kick. “C’mon you can’t still be blaming  me! If I remember correctly, it was Alastor who brought out the matches.”

Angel Dust walks up to you with Sir Pentious trailing behind him. You wave.Sir Pentious waves back, his hood flapping open.

“Mind if we join ya?” Angel Dust asks.

“Not at all,” Mimzy says. “I’m always weak to such lookers.”

Angel Dust takes the seat next to you and pushes back his hair. Sir Pentious takes the one behind him. “Sooooo, you two and Alastor run in the same circles.” He takes a drink. “And you guys are friends with him?”

You take a sip of your own drink. “You could describe it that way.”

“Well, those are your words, not mind, but I think it fits.” Mimzy glances at you, a knowing smile on her lips. “But our good doctor here is more than just—Hey! Why do you look so surprised?”

“Well, I just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery,” Angel Dust says. Sir Pentious nods, his head squeaking as he does “What's his deal?”

Mimzy is happy to explain tall, dark, and creepy’s ‘deal’.

“But before that, he was the prime bachelor of my day,” Mimzy says. “Not a single lady wouldn’t want a taste of that twink. But eh… I wouldn’t wish marriage with Alastor on even my worst enemies. It would be a real shock when you die and find out your hubby’s got a real screw loose.”

“Well, it wasn’t a shock to me,” you say, rolling your eyes. You swirl your drink—hmmm, it’s good to know Husk still knows what you like.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Mimzy chuckles nervously. She scoots closer, elbowing you lightly.  “You happy he’s back? I still remember the few months you’d visit my place to look for your deerest, most darling Alastor, Mimzy at the bottom of a bottle.”

Your eyes twitch. “Quite pleased actually,” you say and force a smile. “It’s great to finally see my husband again.”

“Husband?” Angel Dust chokes on his drink.

Sir Pentious tilts his head and his hat slides off a bit. “Oh you’re married?”

You show them your ring, wiggling your finger. “Indeed.”

Sir Pentious puffs out his chest. “I would love to meet thisss husband of yours,” he says. “If you cannot be my rival, he can fight in your stead.”

“That wouldn’t be a smart idea

Mimzy stares at him. “He’s not the brightest is he?”

Angel Dust drops his drink with a clink. “Pause,” he splutters. “Shut u—” He coughs, still reeling from his drink going down the wrong pipe. “Shut up. Plause. Pause!”

Sir Pentious frowns, and his tongue sticks out. “No one elssseee is talking.”

“There is no way,” Angel Dust says. He turns to you, eyes bulging. “I refuse to believe that Freaky got hitched.”

Sir Pentious gapes, and his hoop opens. “Alastor is married as well?”

Mimzy slaps her forehead and points to you. “He’s married to her!”

“You are mess’in with me,” Angel Dust says. “Well, you can’t trick me. I refuse to believe it, toots.”

Mimzy takes a swig of her drink. “No one’s mes’in with ya,” she says with bright eyes. “They had a big white wedding and everything. I even got to bless them with my singing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Mimzy glares at Angel Dust, a hand on her hips and her noise in the air. “You calling me a liar?”

You place a hand on Mimzy’s shoulder. “It was a good day, wasn’t it?” you say.

“Could’ve been better without the rain,” she says shrugging.

The lights flicker. Static fills the air, making your skin buzz. The bar glows a faint green. “The rain made it sentimental actually,” you say and glance up the stairs. “We quite like the rain.”

Angel Dust crosses both sets of arms. “I thought you said you were friends.”

“I said partners,” you tell him. “Alastor said friends.”

Angel Dust blinks at you and sighs. “So, you married him? Like you’re his wife.”

“I am, indeed!”

“Are you sure?”

“I sure hope so,” you say, crossing your legs. “It would be weird not to be sure considering I was there in a white dress, walking down the aisle.” Mimzy barks a laugh, and the feathers on her head sway. A part of you hopes she topples off the chair.

“Uh…Is this something we should know?” Angel Dust asks. “He’s not going to try to kill me because I learned about this right?”

“We’re not trying to hide it, but we don’t broadcast it either,” you say. “And well…no wife likes to be introduced as a ‘friend’.”

Sir Pentious’ tongue sticks out. “Does Alasssstor own your soul or something?”

You empty your drink and revel in the taste. “We got married back when we were alive.”

Angel Dust reaches across the bar, grabbing a whole bottle off the shelf with his long arms. He pops open the cork and takes a swig straight from the bottom. “I still have trouble belive you,” he says, squinting his eyes. “I just…I can’t!”

“Your belief, or lack of, won’t change the fact that I have a ring,” you say. “And it’s not really for you to believe, now is it?”

“Why…?” Angel Dust’s mouth quirks into the cutest frown. “Why…ya’know?”

You sigh and place a hand on your cheek with a smile. “He makes me laugh.”

Angel Dust makes a face, and coils back like he’s been shot.

“Oh he’s a total kitten,” Mimzy says with a bright smile. She inches her glass closer to Angel Dust, and he fills it up for her. “Catch him in a good mood or pour him a drink and play some jazz and he’s totally harmless.”

“You still shouldn’t toss caution into the air, Mimzy” you say. “If I were you, I’d be wary about trusting Alastor just because he likes cleaning up your mess.”

Angel Dust crosses his arm, and his eyebrows quirk. “Ain’t he your hubby?” he says. “Isn’t there this whole spiel about trust and love and faith and all that other boring vanilla shit.”

“He wouldn’t be the Radio Demon if he could be trusted by just anyone, now would he?” you say. “It still crosses me when I remember how he lied to me.”

Angel Dust’s eyes shine. “You said no wife likes being introduced as a ‘friend’.”

“Yes?”

“It must have crossed you quite a lot, huh?”

You shrug, a bit confused. “I mean… I wasn’t really a big deal at the end of the day.”

Angel Dust’s smile widens and that golden tooth of his shimmer. “I want to know everything.”

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Despite the rain, clear skies show the moon, not a cloud in sight.

The flashlight clipped on your collar shines on your path. Your boots sink deep into the mud, but that’s alright. A few inches of goo won’t stop you from your destination. You adjust your leather medical bag—double checked that there are gloves inside.

Between those two trees, your treasure lies buried.

You lay your kit on some nearby stones and reach in for your gloves. You dig until bits of the cadaver’s skin stick out. You brush the soil of his chest and peel open the flaps of his skin. The underside of his skin has blood vessels attached to it. It was worth cutting out the fat to have a glimpse.

Superficial fascia connects his muscles to his dermis. You take your probe and disconnect the thin filament. It reminds you of spider-webs.

You discard your probe and exchange it for the bottle of formaldehyde. You can’t study the whole body, not when it’s exposed to the elements. His fingers are starting to rot, but that’s alright. The chest is all you need, for now. So, the chest is all you’ll preserve.

The cheesecloth you placed on him last night is still damp. Good, that means it’s been sanitized this whole time. You take the cheesecloth and wife it against his open cavity, sanitizing every surface you can reach.

The formalin stings your nose and burns your eyes. It makes you cough, but you push through the pungent chemical.

You peel off the cheesecloth and use it to spread formalin into the deeper crevices between his skin and muscle.

Good. There are no maggots yet. It means you still have time.

You discard your gloves for a fresh pair and prepare your tools. You take your forceps and clip the scalpel blade onto the handle. You lay all your tools on a clean cloth for easy reach.

A human’s adipose tissue buildup is thicker than animals. This man’s fat is soft, easily squishable. Sadly, you’re not here to study his fat.

The scalpel blade is balanced perfectly. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You slice through his adipose tissue, discarding it behind you, carving the cadaver until a nice rectangle opening forms. Muscles are grey, not like the red color printed on textbooks. You run your fingers along the smooth fibers of his pectorals. It’s slimy. That’s probably moisture mixing with the formaldehyde.

You quirk your shoulder to adjust the angle of your flashlight, still running your hand on his pectoral.

There, on the side of the chest where a muscle resembles a fan, do you find what you’re looking for.

Taking your probe, you define the muscle. You don’t use your scapple—never a scapple, because it could slice the fibers. You’ll scrape off the muscles later when it’s time to move on to the systems.

You take a pen and write your notes.

Muscle name: Serratus Ventralis. Description: The Serratus Ventralis appears to be a fan-shaped muscle, just like Hyman writes it to be. Although he’s not describing humans, I think it looks the same. Will double check to see if such similarities are indeed correct. Just like the book says, I can see the muscle extending anteriorly and posteriorly from the scapula and to the walls of the thorax. The Serratus Ventralis appears to be divisible into anterior and posterior portions, with the anterior originating deeper into the body. (Will cut open if there is still time.) The posterior border seems to be where it originates from, and while it is buried by other muscles, I think it originates from somewhere between the ribs. Origin, Insertion, Action: Origin: Textbook says it originates from the outer surfaces of the upper eight or nine ribs.  (Will double check once I’ve moved on.) Insertion: The muscle fibers appear to move upward to the side. Inserts along the anterior surface of the medial border of the scapula Action: If it indeed is inserted from the scapula, this could mean that it could draw the scapula, forward, backward or against the body.

You flip to the previous page, and cross out Serratus ventralis. You move on to the muscle on your list: Xiphihumeralis. Based on the name, the muscle should pass through the xiphoid process to the sternu—

“Is this what you meant about my trash being your treasure?”

You startle, jumping back until a tree hits you and there’s nowhere else to escape. Run. Run. Run! Your heart screams at you, hammering in your chest. No one is supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be alone. You were careful—not careful enough, apparently.

Alastor emerges from the trees.

He waves at you when your gazes meet, but you don’t wave back. He’s smiling. “Hello,” he greets you with a gentle voice that strikes your core. It would be foolish to mistake his gentleness for kindness. “And yet again, I’m forced to comment on how you have such interesting hobbies.”

You press deeper into the tree, even if a knot digs into your back. “This….” You pause, trying to find your voice. Do you run? “This isn’t a hobby. I’m merely studying.”

Alastor drops a bag on the ground. It looks heavy. “A man?”

“A cadaver,” you say, careful to keep your voice steady. You cannot let this man see any cracks. “They’re already dead, aren’t they? Wouldn’t it be a waste to let them rot like this? At least now, their sorry lives will be making a meaningful contribution.”

The admission of your crime was easy to say. You don’t want to know what that means about you.

Alastor laughs. It’s not that breathy and light laugh he had earlier. This one is lighter, more elated. “Please, tell me more.”

You harden your heart, searching for any speck of bravery. “Why would I?”

Alastor smiles until his teeth show. The moon makes his brown eyes glow—you did not think it would be such an attractive color. “I’m the one holding the large knife.”

You glance at his hand, and oh…that indeed is quite a large knife. It’s not even a kitchen knife, but a proper hunting blade meant to kill. “I see you’re resorting to threats,” you say and you don’t know why you do. It’s not really a smart idea. “I did not think you, a man, would feel the need to say such things to a woman.”

“That was barely a threat,” he says. “I’m just curious to know your motivation to dig up trash.”

“I’m studying—that’s my reason.”

Alastor waves the knife as he talks. “Are there no other dead bodies for you to prey on?” he says. “Don’t hospitals have an area specifically to keep the dead?”

“Only morticians or medical students are allowed access,” you say. “I am neither.”

“Why not become one then?”

“Women as doctors are still a relatively new phenomena,” you say. “There is not a single medical school in this area that will allow me to study, nor are there any that won’t bring me into debt.” Your blood boils and it replaces your thumping heart. It still beats in your chest, but it’s not because of fear. “I needed to find a way to learn, to study, and textbooks could only describe it in words. I want to see for myself.”

Alastor plays with the tip of the knife. “Sounds like a classic case of lusting for knowledge.”

“If lust is to be my sin,” you start and a wonky smile appears on your face, “pride would be yours. A classic case of judge, jury and executioner.”

“I do not need to explain myself to you.”

“Well, you are holding the larger knife,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Anything more you’d like to know?”

Alastor hums at you. “How did you figure it out?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” you say, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. “You should buy suspicious items at different times and places. Your turn—How did you know I was here?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” he echoes laughing like he’s told the funniest joke. “You shouldn’t have told me where you lived so easily. I thought I would have to hang around your clinic for a few days before I got your address.”

“I made sure to be careful.”

“You weren’t in the slightest,” he tells you. “Even an animal is harder to track. It was quite a surprise to see you heading in this direction.”

“Wait…,” you say slowly. “Hang around the clinic? You…you were stalking me?”

“I wouldn’t say stalking,” he says, putting his arms up. “And if we’re pointing fingers, you would have had to follow me around for a few days to learn where I buried my trash.”

Your eyes drift to his bag, and then to his knife. Realization hits you like a cruel bus. You face heat. “You!”

“Me?”

“You lied to me!” you say, venom lacing your words as you puff. “You had no business in the area, nor did you randomly spot me! You followed to kill me, didn't you?”

Alastor smiles at you.

“Oh my God!” you scream at him, throwing your arms into the air. You point at him, glaring “You’re still going to kill me?”

“I can’t exactly let you leave, my dear,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What did you think?”

You stare down at him from your nose. “Don’t be so brainless,” you spit, crossing your arms. “If you would use this thing on your head called a, ‘brain’, and use it to think, you would be able to deduce that you’re currently not in cuffs.”

Alastor glares back at you, tightening his grip on the knife. You don’t give a single flying fuck.

“Since you are adamant on not using your brain, I shall do so for you,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “If I wanted to rat you out to the coppers, wouldn’t I have done so already? Hmmmm?”

“Don’t speak to me as if I am a child.”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you aren’t thinking like one,” you say. “Why would I tattle on someone for giving me what I want.”

 Alastor gives you a dry smile. “So much sarcasm to the person who does so.”

You cross your arms and lean against the tree. “I suppose I should be thanking you.”

“Will you?”

“No,” you say. “I don’t thank liars.”

You smile to yourself when Alastor rolls his eyes and furrows his brow. That strained smile of his is an extra bonus.

“If you’re going to kill me, be quick with it,” you say. “I’d like to die with my dignity as a lady.”

“How curious,” he says. “You’re not going to try and run? Fight me off in some clever way? Those are always the best kinds of hunts.”

You roll your eyes, making a point to show him that you are doing so. “That would be a waste of our time, wouldn’t it? And I think you’ll forgive me if I am not exactly keen on giving my murderer the satisfaction of experiencing ‘the best kinds of hunt’.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light this time. He tosses the knife into the trees and puts his arms up as if surrendering. “It seems you have made me change my mind,” he says. “Not many are able to do so—especially not when I’ve settled on a hunt.”

“What an honor then,” you say, smiling dryly.

“Indeed, it is.” He takes a step forward, and when you don’t run, he walks to you and brushes stray dirt off your shoulders.

“Why change your mind?”

He smiles, inching closer to you.  That is for me to know,” he says. “But, what I will say is I know potential when I see it.”

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“Someone, please, kill me again!” Angel Dust massages his forehead with one arm, using the other to empty the bottle. His third arm reaches into the bar shelves for a new one. You stare at his arms and wonder just how it got to be so long. “You’ve got to be shiting me right now. That’s your example? That’s your final answer?”

You pick at the wooden table, suddenly finding it hard to meet his eyes “Yes…?”

Angel Dust chugs his bottle at your answer. Mimzy avoids direct eye contact, choosing to study her empty glass. Even Sir Pentious keeps his gaze locked to the floor.. You bite on your cheek, letting out a soft huff.

If they didn’t want to know, they should not have asked.

“Out of all the misery he’s caused and will be causing,” Angel Dust says, “you think that Freaky ly’in to you about his reason for walking you home was the best possible example.”

“Yes?”

Angel Dust takes a deep breath. “Let’s be clear, okay? I’ll rephrase what I said, so listen closely,” he says. “Alastor lied about – and let me get this right—he lied to you about why he was in the area, and that’s why – hold on, bear with me – and that is why you were angry.”

You cross your arms, huffing a bit. “You make it sound stupid.”

Mimzy sighs, shaking her head with amusement. “That’s because it is, darling.”

“It is not!” you say, pouting. “It’s a very valid reason to be cross.”

Angel Dust takes another swig of his bottle. “It’s the fact that you weren’t angry that he was going to murder you in cold blood for me.”

You throw your arms into the air. “Okay, so it might not have been the best example,” you say, tapping your legs. “But that isn’t exactly my fault. Alastor is strangely honest.”

Angel Dust gapes at you. “No, he is not!”

“I don’t know, hun,” Mimzy says, leaning against the bar table. “Alastor kina is.”

“You won’t get the truth if you don’t ask,” you say, nodding your head. “And when you do ask, Alastor will either say the full horrifying truth, say it in a way that’s vague but still considered to be true, or dodge and not answer your question.”

Sir Pentious tilts his head, and he keeps a hand on his hat to keep it from falling. “And that is why we should not trust him?”

“There is no we, my dear,” you say. “That’s why you shouldn’t trust him.”

The hotel trembles.

You startle in your seat, gripping the table for stability. Mimzy clutches your arm, and you grab hers. It’s a small reassuring gesture that would make you smile at any other moment. Someone pounds on the door. You snap your head towards the entrance, nearly giving yourself whiplash. The hinges creak with every bang, and you watch with horror as the wooden frame begins to crack. Whatever wants to go in is determined to do so.

“MIMZY! We know you’re in there, you lousy bitch!”

You lock eyes with Mimzy, glaring at her with bristled feathers. “Really?”

“Whooops…?” she says with the most innocent smile. You grab your glass and throw it at her head. Mimzy snarls at you, searching for a stray bottle. She never finds it.

Glass rains down to the floor. Dust fills the space, and you cough when it irritates your throat. The whole hotel is in disarray. With a yelp, you jump away from the bar when one of the bone heads detaches and crushes your seat.

Mimzy scurries behind the bar.

A portal rips open in the middle of the room…Huh, that’s pretty cool. Vaggie steps out, Lucifer and Charlie behind her. “What is going on?”

Mimzy explains what she did. You roll your eyes when she does.

Fireballs shoot out the broken windows.

Motherfucker! You are going to kill Mimzy. You press against the wall to avoid Sir Pentious’ long tail from smacking into you as he slithers about. Angel Dust scurried away at the first sign of trouble. Of-fucking-course this happens today. Niffty scurries about, cleaning every debris in sight, You grab her by the collar, pulling her away from a stray fire. Niffty squirms out of your hold, and hops away. Another fireball keeps you from pursuing her.

“We’re under siege!” Sir Pentious exclaims, slithering about. “Take cover!”

 Alastor pops out of your shadow, jerking your arm to pull you away.

You flap your arms, trying to regain your balance.

Alastor keeps a steady hand on your shoulders, his hold on your firm. His touch keeps you grounded. You glance back to the wall, frowning when the wood burns and char. Your finger digs into the fabric of his coat as the hotel burns around you.

You hold his gaze, trying to give him your best smile. “Much better?”

“No,” he says, his eyes squint into a glare. Alastor doesn’t frown, but his teeth bare into a snarl. “Are you hurt?”

Alastor smoothens the feathers on your hair. You shake your head. “Not a single feather out of place. Thank you, my deerest.”

“All of you get a safe distance,” Vaggie says, spear raised.” I’ll take care of this.”

 Satisfied, Alastor drops his hand from your head and turns to the door. “No, my dear. Leave it to me.” Radio static warps the air around you. His eyes morph into radio dials. “It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.” He has the smile on his face—that same smile that tell you he’s on the hunt. It makes you buzz.

Mimzy pops her head out.  “Ugh, finally!” she says, rolling her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

Tendrils shoot out of Alastor’s back and it waves around the air as if owning a mind of its own. His bones break with audible cracks to adjust to his expanding size. “A reminder to all, not to mess with the radio demon!” His teeth stick out when he smiles, and the little ‘x’ on his forehead appears.

Alastor laughs and begins his kill.

You rush out when your husband crawls out the broken doors, bolting from the bar and out the entrance. You watch Alastor. He grabs a shark with the tips of his fingers and uses the others to pull him apart, slowly, painfully, with a grin.

“Mimzy…” you say, slowly.

Mimzy shrinks next to you. “…Yeah?”

Alastor’s nails elongate and he pierces the shark, letting his blood trail down, reveling in his screams. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.”

A leg sails across the air, it’s bone sticking out. You smile to yourself as Alastor hunts down his prey. Blood paints the flowers red when his tendrils wag like a happy tail.

You’re faintly aware of Lucifer and Charlie arguing behind you.

The show is over too soon.

Alastor shrinks, twirls his microphone and stretches.

Mimzy runs, the first to approach Alastor. You don’t hear a word they’re saying, but Mimzy jabs her fingers into his coat. She leaves with a frown and a middle finger pointed at him.

You walk closer to your husband, a smile on your face. Alastor inches to you, bending close enough for you to reach his bowtie. The fabric is smooth against your fingers as your straighten it for him. “Much better?” you ask.

“Indeed.”

“You put up quite the show,” you tell him. “You looked absolutely riveting, my deer.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and he offers his arm, guiding you back into the hotel. “Did I?”

“You always do, my love.”

And oh…

Another song.

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Lucifer leaves, taking his singing with him.

As quietly as possible, you grab your belongings and check that nothing is missing: wallet, flip-phone, bus card, pieces of mint, various essential items, and lastly, your umbrella. You step out of what is left of the Hazbin Hotel’s front doors and stifle a yawn. Today’s excitement has gone on for too long. It was time to go home.

Drops of acid fall from the sky, a light drizzle forming. It was a good idea to stash that umbrella in your bag.

Alastor slithers out of your shadow, and covers your heads with an umbrella. “Did you happen to forget your umbrella?”

You force a sheepish smile on your lips. “I did, actually,” you lie to him. “But a walk seems rather lovely today.”

Alastor twirls the umbrella, his smile widening. “May I join you for your walk?”

“Are you not still working?” You glance behind you, observing the hotel.

Angel Dust sweeps glass off the carpet. He steals glances from time to time, trying his hardest to avoid looking in your direction—he doesn’t try hard enough. Your eyes meet, and you brush your stray feathers from your hair. A not so subtle way of showing off your ring. You stick out your tongue.

Angel Dust laughs, shaking his head with amusement.

Alastor adjusts the umbrella, angling it to block the prying eyes from inside the hotel. He raises his eyebrows, looking at you with a questionable glance.

You offer your most innocent smile. “I think they’re going to need a new door.”

“I think it’s time I clocked out,” he sys, inching the umbrella closer. “I shouldn’t have them getting too dependent on me.”

“Are those not grounds for prime picking?”

“I wouldn’t exactly be a doting husband if I left my wife to walk alone in the rain,” Alastor tells you.

“Doting husband?”

He nods, leaning closer to you. “Yes. Was that not your condition for our marriage?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, humming a bit. “I do not remember saying that at all.”

“Well, it wasn’t for you to remember,” he says. “And in any case, I did not call you to the hotel to prepare for some party.”

“Then why did you call me here?”

Alastor meets your eyes and his smile widens. “Allow me to join you, and you shall find out.”

“You’ve piqued my interest, deerest,” you say. “The best walks are usually the ones that are shared. It doesn’t hurt that you have an umbrella.”

“What would you do without me?”

You roll your eyes, and take a step closer. “You always seem to remember for me.”

Alastor fiddles with the umbrella. “What did you do for several years—get pelted by acid?”

“You would know the answer to that had you been present for those years,” you say and you don’t fight the coy smile that forms on your lips.

Alastor hums in displeasure. “Well, in any case, I only have this one umbrella.”

“I guess we’ll have to share.”

“Yes, it seems we will.”

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his. He doesn’t need to take precautions to ensure your clothes stay dry nor do you have to for his own attire, not when you press closely against each other. The umbrella covers the both of you just right.

You rest your head on his arm. It’s nice. Warm. Even if it was as thick as a stick. His bones press into your cheek. Your eyes flutter into a close… just… one… second…

Your knees buckle causing you to trip.

A frim grab of your waist keeps you from the ground. Your nose crinkles when you collide with Alastor’s chest. Finding strength in your legs, you dig your foot into the ground and stand.

Alastor keeps his hold on your waist steady, and you don’t move from his hold.

“Before you say anything—you are not fine,” he says. “I don’t want to hear anything else but an agreement.”

You peel your face from his chest, meeting his eyes to give him the brightest smile you can muster. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “It seems…It seems it will be my turn to postpone our outing today,” you say. “The excitement of the day seems to be catching up to me.”

You fell asleep while walking,” he says. “If it was not for me, you would be on the pavement.”

“Then it is a good thing I am no longer alone.”

A single tendril emerges from his back. It wraps around the umbrella’s handle, keeping it secured over your heads.

Alastor’s hand shifts from your waist to your back. You feel his other arm snaking down your legs, trailing your skin until he reaches the back of your knees.

Alastor lifts you like a bride.

Well, you actually are a bride…his bride, specifically.

Alastor continues the walk, holding you in his arms. You lean into him, and he places a chin on your head. “Your pointy chin is poking me, my deerest,” you say but you don’t move to push him off. “It’s digging into my scalp.

His chest rise and fall as he laughs, and you feel every bit of it against your cheek. “I could always drop you right over this puddle.”

“That wouldn’t really be part of the doting husband image, would it?” you say chuckling into his suit.

“No, I guess it would not.”

Smiling to yourself, you nuzzle deeper into the crook of his neck. “Hey, Al,” you mumble softly, “tell me a story.”

At the corner of your eyes, you see Alastor glance at you. His gaze lasts a second before he turns back ahead.  “It was 1929,” he says. “The beginning of the glorious Great Depression.”

You roll your eyes even if he doesn’t see it. “You are the only one I know who calls the Great Depression ‘glorious’. People were starving, and we almost got fired from our jobs.”

“That’s because it was a great year.”

“Because you got to see the sufferings of the masses?” You laugh softly. “That’s definitely something you would do. I can practically hear you laughing at the way they try to claw their way out of misery, only to fail spectacularly.”

“Because we got married that year,” he says. Even if you’re wearing a coat, and Alastor wears his gloves. Even with layers of cloth between your skin, you still feel the way Alastor caress your with his thumb. “Can I continue my story now or would you like to bicker about your failing memory?”

“Continue.”

“So, the start of the glorious Great Depression,” he says. “That day, I saw an ad for the local zoo. I wasn’t doing anything important, so I decided to support my local animals.”

“How kind of you,” you say, stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it was,” he says. “I stalk through the animals. Looking at every malnourished species they kept locked up—”

“You get to the alligator enclosure and to this day, swear that you saw it do a backflip,” you mumble softly, eyes dropping. “That’s pretty good for someone you claim to possess failing memories.”

“Alright then. I shall find another.” Alastor hums as he thinks, and his chest vibrates as he does. “Summer of 1916–long before I met you.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you say, huffing. “I’m well aware of the year we met, my deer. So, Summer of 1916?”

“It was a dark and stormy night. Weird for the summer seasons. Usually, the house becomes a furnace, but it was terribly cold,” Alastor tells you. “During that second night of the hurricane, a knock sounds from the door.”

“Oh… I’ve heard this as well.” You pick on the lapels of Alastor’s coat, tracing the white lines.

“You have?” Alastor raises his eyebrows

“Yes, it was your neighbor. His tree fell into the window and you and your mother ended up sheltering him for the night,” you say. “Then, you’ll tell me that he gifted you three pounts of cheese the next week.”

“I guess there’s nothing left to tell.”

You lean back to meet his eyes. They’re no longer brown. Once, a long time ago, you thought it was your favorite color. Now, you don’t think you’ve ever had a favorite color. You just liked his color. “Nonsense,” you says. “We are definitely not that old. I’m sure there should be be at least a few.”

“Alright, this one began fifteen years ago,” he says, tightening his grip on you. “I was waiting outside St. An’s, and a Sinner came out. It was my first time seeing a cow. It was quite a conundrum because — Oh, I think you’ve heard this already. Have you?”

Your eyelids are heavy. “I have.”

“And you choose not to inform me?”

“Can you tell it to me again?” You sink deeper into his hold.

“Of course, my love.”

Alastor’s steps lag until he comes to a full stop. He holds you in his gaze as the acid rain splatters grow stronger. It’s just you and him in this tiny bubble of an umbrella.

His eyes flicker, touching every inch of this scene. You do not know what he is thinking.

“Are you alright, my love?” you find yourself asking.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m just…trying not to waste, that’s all.”

“Come on,” you say in a voice that is oh so soft.

Alastor continues his story. You don’t hear the end of it.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

I am excited to know what you guys think about this chapter. My replies and inbox are always open for any questions. I always get so happy to see my notifications. It's a bit addicting actually. Thank you to everyone who has interacted with this story. Every like, reblog, and reply means so much to me. Part 4 will be poasted as soon as possible

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x wife!reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x wife reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x y/n #the radio demon #radio demon

[lipglossanon]

Hey Pretty, Won’t You Take A Ride With Me?

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{previous installment} || {next installment}

stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, feelings are starting to happen 👀, dirty talk, flirting, jealous Leon, kissing, unprotected sex, fingering, creampies, breeding kink, boyfriend/girlfriend role play (it’ll make sense 😂), car sex, semi-public sex, pussy spanking/slapping, squirting, slight cockwarming

So so tired (finally back from vacation!) and wanted to get this out! 😘 so def not proofread 🤣

Title from Hey Pretty by Poe (also a nice remix)

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“What do you mean it’s family bonding?”

“That’s exactly what I meant, family bonding,” your mother sighs, exasperated with you already, “we’re all going out for the day to spend some quality time together.”

You groan, slumping down on yourself from where you sit on top of the kitchen counter. 

“Besides,” your mother ignores your eye rolling, “it’s the company picnic and they want us to bring our families. It’ll be a nice day!”

“But mom—“

“The car’s loaded up, so we’re ready when you are,” Leon’s voice cuts you off. 

You glare over at him and stick out your tongue, “Rude.”

He grins and flips you off, “It’s just my charm, Princess.”

You roll your eyes at him and turn back to your mom who’s finished grabbing her purse, “It’s gonna be so boring; you’re just going to end up schmoozing with your boss anyways.”

“Honey,” your mom sighs again, tugging your arm, “it’s not going to kill you to hang out with your family for the afternoon.”

You slide off the counter with a groan, “Fine.”

You look at Leon who’s staring at your thighs. With a frown you look down and see the tail end of the bruises he left on your skin the other night poking out from the edge of your shorts, making you quickly tug them down before your mom sees it. Leon’s eyes jump up to yours and he smirks. 

“How about this,” she points to Leon, “you two can carpool and after a few hours, I’ll let you leave the picnic early. We got a deal?”

You squint your eyes at Leon who only shrugs. 

“I’m game,” he gives you the fakest smile, “what do you say little sis.”

You purse your lips but slowly nod, “Sounds fine. And you promise we can leave early?”

Your mom laughs and gives you a one armed hug, “Promise, sweetie. Now c’mon we don’t want to be late.”

Leon waits and lets your mom walk out before falling in step with you.

“Aren’t you excited?” He teases you, his hand ghosting across your lower back and ass. 

“Cut it out,” you elbow his ribs. 

“Hurry it up you two!” Your stepdad calls from the front door, jangling his keys in hand. 

“Yeah, Leon,” you exit the front door first, Leon on your heels. 

Your stepdad closes and locks the door then tosses a second set of keys to Leon. 

“Just follow us and drive the speed limit.”

Leon nods, “I know the drill.”

Unlocking the car doors, Leon climbs into the driver’s seat while you get comfortable in the passenger. 

Your parents pull out of the driveway and honk. Leon huffs while rolling his eyes and you snort at his attitude. 

He side eyes you, “Play nice, princess.”

You bat your eyelashes at him, “I am nice.”

It’s his turn to snort, “Sure thing.”

With that, he pulls out onto the road and follows after your parents. 

It’s actually.. nice. The radio is tuned to a variety station and Leon lets you control the temp, blasting AC against the muggy heat outside. 

“Think it’s gonna rain,” you muse out loud.

Leon only hums in agreement, eyes on the road. This gives you the opportunity to take in his thick biceps and forearms. You press your thighs together when he drums his hands on the steering wheel, making his muscles and tendons flex. 

You bite the side of your thumb imagining those arms holding you up, pressing you against a wall and—

“Think there’s going to be a lot of people at this thing?”

Leon’s voice pulls you from your daydreaming. 

Blinking, you look at his side profile and shrug, “There usually is; we’ve been going to these for a few years now.”

“Oh?” he glances over at you, “well what can I expect?”

You sigh and turn your attention back to the window, “Just a bunch of ass kissing and lame family games. Same tired old shit that literally no one cares about.”

He laughs and you look back at him, eyebrows raised. 

“S’just cute is all,” he gives you a soft grin, “you don’t get so fired up all that often.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, fighting down your own smile, “you’ll see what I mean.”

You lapse into a comfortable quiet and before you know it, Leon’s pulling into the packed parking lot. He parks as close to your parents as he can and shuts off the car. You both get out and walk over to the trunk of your mom’s car. 

She comes around the side waving a blanket at you, “You two can grab this and go find a good spot in the shade.”

Leon bundles the blanket in his arms and motions for you to lead the way, “After you.”

Sighing, you guide Leon into the venue and trek over to where you usually setup at this company picnic. 

“Hey!” 

You both turn at the voice. 

You smile, “Oh hey, Steve.”

Steve walks up to you two, a big smile on his face, “Hi! I thought you were bailing this year.”

You roll your eyes, “I tried. Oh Steve, this is Leon. Leon, Steve.”

Steve waves excitedly, “Nice to meet you.”

“Sure,” Leon looks at him, dead eyed expression on his face, “c’mon princess, we gotta setup.”

“Yeah,” you smile at Steve as Leon tugs you away, “well I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“See ya!” Steve calls out, catching a red haired girls attention and taking off in that direction. 

“So that’s Steve?” Leon grimaces. 

“Yep,” you pop the p on the end, “and if you notice the girl he’s latched onto, you’ll see that that’s Claire.”

His upper lip curls but he only pushes you to keep walking. You stifle a laugh and finish the walk over to the usual spot your family uses— it’s under a big tree on the edge of the venue, perfect for keeping out of the way or interest of anyone. 

As soon as you and Leon spread out the blanket, your mom and stepdad join you carrying a mini cooler filled with drinks. 

Your mom frowns at you, “Same spot as usual? I thought we’d try somewhere different this year.”

You fold your arms, posture stiff, “Nothing wrong with this spot.”

Your mom sighs but doesn’t argue any further. 

You see Leon look over at his dad who only mouths ‘I don’t know’. 

Your mom claps her hands and smiles, “Well, let’s go sign up for some group activities.”

You shrug and drop your hands to the side. Your mom grabs your stepdad’s arm and leads him over to the sign up table. 

“You good?”

You turn to Leon grabbing a water out of the cooler. 

“Yeah,” you wave your hand, “it’s nothing.”

His steady gaze makes you fidget and look down at your feet. 

“My dad and I picked this spot the first time we had to come to these,” you clear your throat, eyes glancing back up at him, “S’all it is.”

“Ah,” Leon’s expression softens. 

“Anyways, yeah, well now we have some dumb games to look forward to,” you rub your arms, “so, uh, might as well go join them.”

“Sure,” Leon drops the water bottle back into the cooler and falls into step with you. 

“So you probably know a lot of people here,” he nudges your arm. 

You groan in annoyance, “Too many. Bet you money that someone at some point is going to come to us and ask ‘oh aren’t you just the cutest! I remember when you were this tall!’,” you bring your hand up and hold it even with your waist. 

“Stop,” Leon shakes his head, “there’s no way someone is actually going to say that phrase.”

You smile cheekily at him, “You’ll see.”

You both meet up with Leon’s dad and watch as your mom finishes signing in with a volunteer. She walks over with little wrist bands in her hand. 

“One for each of you!” she hands them out, blue for your mom and stepdad and green for you and Leon. 

“Great,” you deadpan. 

“Honey—“

“Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you in ages!! How have you been?”

An older woman cuts your mom off and gives her a quick hug. 

“Good, good!” Your mom practically beams, “how have you been?”

“Good,” the woman laughs and then catches you out of the corner of her eye. 

“Oh my goodness! Aren’t you just the cutest thing!” she grabs your hands in hers, “you’ve grown so much! I remember when you only came up to my waist!” 

You watch Leon cover his mouth, but you can still see the grin on his face. 

“Oh and this must be your boyfriend,” the woman coos, eyes taking in Leon next to you, “my he’s a handsome boy.”

Your eyes cut to Leon who barks out a laugh, red tinging his cheekbones. 

Your mom also starts to laugh, “No, that’s Leon. That’s my new stepson. I guess I should’ve made introductions sooner.”

“Oh my mistake,” the woman blushes and laughs, “oh I see—,” her attention shifts to someone in the distance, “oh! I must go, but it’s so lovely to meet you.”

She jogs off yelling and waving at another picnic attendee. 

“That wasn’t awkward at all,” your stepdad dryly states. 

You laugh so hard you snort and cover your mouth, giggles still sneaking past your palm. You catch Leon’s flushed face and lose it again to a fit of giggles. 

Your mom clears her throat, “Yes well let’s head over to the games area; since there’s four of us, we’ll need to pair off.”

Leon throws his arm over your shoulders, “You’ve got me now, so we’ll definitely win.”

You roll your eyes, “Mmhmm, we’ll see.”

With the arm around your shoulders, he pinches your cheek, “Have faith, little sis.”

“Sure thing, big brother,” you simper, clasping your hands to your chest, “my hero.”

He pinches your cheek again and tugs, eyes dark, “Be nice, Princess.”

“We’ll meet up at our spot after the race,” your mom remarks, shielding her eyes and looking around, “oh there’s my boss! We’ll meet up with you kids later.”

Grabbing her husband’s hand, she rushes off in the opposite direction. 

You elbow Leon in the ribs and he slowly drags his hand across your back to his side. 

“Quit it,” you hiss, feeling flush. 

“C’mon,” Leon links your arm with his, “show me where this thing is at.”

You try to wrangle your arm back, but Leon holds on tight. 

Sighing, you relax in his hold and start to walk to the middle of the venue, “It’s over here.”

The heat from Leon’s side seeps through your T-shirt making butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

“You know you should be a lot nicer to your handsome boyfriend,” Leon’s voice lilts higher on the last two words as he pokes you in the side. 

You squirm and smack his arm, skin tingling, feeling hot all over with embarrassment and giddiness, “Shut. Up.”

To your dismay, he just laughs at you.

“C’mon, Princess,” he leans his head down to whisper in your ear, “gotta be sweet to me or people will think my girlfriend doesn’t like me.”

Your stomach dips in excitement, but you ignore it and nudge Leon in the ribs, “You’re being annoying, Leon.”

He snickers, “Isn’t that what big brothers are for?”

You roll your eyes, “You can’t be both you dork.”

He hums and grin wickedly at you, “Says who, Princess?”

Shivering, your nipples tighten in your bra as you look away, “Says everyone.”

He only shrugs in reply, eyes glittering in the sun.  

“You really think you can win?” you turn your attention back towards him, changing the subject. 

“Of course,” he scoffs, blue eyes roving over your face before making eye contact, “I’m gonna win at whatever it is.”

“You trying to show off?” you tease, squeezing his arm. 

He grins crookedly, “Don’t you wanna see how good your big brother is?”

Your breath hitches and you watch as Leon notices, eyes darkening. 

“You wanna win for me?” you whisper, eyes hooded, warmth pooling in your abdomen. 

“Yeah, wanna show off to my girl, show her how much better I am than anyone else here,” his voice is heated and deep as his heavy gaze takes in your hazy expression. 

“Okay,” your lips part, tongue darting out to wet them, “then win it for me, big brother.”

You feel his body tense next to you. 

“What do I get when I win?”

You tap a finger against your chin, “Hmmm, how about a kiss?”

“Yeah?” His eyes drop to your lips, “I’ll take that deal.”

Your lips curl into a smile, “Then deal.”

Walking up to the starting point of the race, there’s already a huge crowd of people. 

“Greens lining up now,” a man calls through a bullhorn, “greens at the starting line!”

Leon slips his arm out of yours. He runs a thumb across the apple of your cheek. 

“Wait for me at the finish line?”

You smirk at him and hold up your wrist, “But I’m also a green. So looks like you’re gonna have to outrun me if you want to win.”

You laugh at his slack jawed expression. 

“Poor Leon,” you coo, patting his broad chest. 

Someone bumps into you, pushing you further into Leon’s personal space. 

“Ah, sorry,” a rich voice laughs behind you, “a little clumsy.”

You turn and give the surprisingly cute guy a shy smile, “It’s okay, no biggie.”

The guy smiles even wider at you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

You laugh softly, “Unfortunately, I’m here every year.”

“It’s the worst isn’t it?” he chuckles, “my dad’s always dragging me to these.”

“For me, it’s my mom,” you roll your eyes, “and it’s the same thing every year which is super lame.”

“Exactly!” He laughs. 

All of a sudden you feel a line of heat down your back as Leon presses his chest against you, arms draped over your shoulders as he rests his chin on your head, “What’re we talking about, sweetheart?”

The guy’s smile drops from his face as his eyes swap nervously from your face up to Leon’s.

He takes half a step back, “Well it was nice meeting you!”

You watch as he turns and darts off further into the crowd. Warmth zings through your body as Leon pulls you even tighter against him. 

“You going to ignore me for some stranger?” His voice gives you goosebumps as he whispers in your ear, “how mean.”

“Leon,” you soften against him, relaxing back in his hold, “I was just being friendly.”

“Uh huh,” he rumbles, “and I’m sure he thought you were just being friendly, too.”

He lets go of you, leaving you feeling dizzy and off balanced.

“Last call for greens to the starting line!” the bullhorn rings out. 

You and Leon line up with the group, shoulders brushing. 

“Good luck, brat,” he pinches your side meanly making you gasp. 

You go to smack his shoulder but the starting gun goes off and everyone makes a mad dash for the finish line. 

Leon bolts out in front of you. 

“Cheater!” You yell at his back. 

He flips you off but keeps running. You jog a few steps but decide it’s a bust. Stepping out of the throng of people, you make your way down to the finish line, but now on the outside of the run. Once down at the finish line, you stand on your tiptoes looking for Leon’s distinctive hair. A pair of arms wrap around your waist and twirl you around. 

You squeal and smack at the forearms wrapped around you. You hear Leon laugh in your ear as he sets you back down. 

“Gotcha, princess.”

“Fuck off,” you shove at his chest even though he doesn’t budge. 

He grins at you, “No can do, you owe me a prize.” 

He dangles a cheap plastic medallion with ‘1st Place’ stamped in wonky lettering in front of your face. 

You laugh, taking the medal from his hand, “No way!”

“Way,” he crowds into your personal space, “so?”

“I guess I have to,” you try to act serious, but the smile won’t leave your face. 

You grab the collar of his shirt and tug him down closer to you while you push up on your tippy toes; you press a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth, lips barely grazing his. 

You settle back on flat feet and let go of his shirt, “Congratulations.”

He slips his fingers through the belt loops of your shorts and yanks you forward; he holds you against him as he licks into your mouth, tongue hot as it slips past your lips. You whine and sag against his broad chest as he practically tongue fucks you in front of all these strangers. 

Pulling away, you gasp in a quick breath, “What’re you doing? What if our parents see?”

Your eyes dart around nervously, but there’s no denying the heat building between your thighs. He smirks down at you, making your belly swoop in excitement. 

He noses along your hairline until his lips press against your ear, “Kissing my little sister, what else? And don’t worry they’re nowhere around, I looked.”

You bite your lip to stop the moan bubbling out of your throat, but Leon doesn’t stop there.

“So funny none of these people know, they just think you could be my cute little girlfriend,” he chuckles, tongue dipping in your ear making you shiver against him, “haven’t got a clue that I’m your big brother.”

You moan at that, softly where only he can hear it. He hums and goes to dip his head down, but jerks back from you like he’s been shocked. 

“It took forever for us to find you!” 

Leon gives his dad a strained smile, “Yeah it’s pretty crowded huh.”

You scrub your hands across your face and turn on shaky legs to face your mom, giving her a quick smile and a wave. 

She nods, “One of our bigger turnouts,” then she sees the glint of yellow in Leon’s hand and gasps excitedly, “did you win?!”

“Oh,” Leon rubs the back of his neck, “uh yeah, I did.”

“He was so good,” you add slyly, grinning at Leon, “right, big brother?”

He rolls his eyes at you, but you see a blush dusting the bridge of his nose. 

“Let’s go eat,” your mom suggests, “I’m starving.”

She links arms with you and starts to talk about the new boss she just met while your stepdad and Leon trail behind, softly conversing with each other. 

Before you know it, the minutes bleed into hours as the afternoon drips by like slowly melting ice cream. Your mom and stepdad leave to go mingle, sticking you and Leon with cleaning up by yourselves. 

Afterwards, sitting on the picnic blanket, you wrap your arms around your legs and prop your chin on your knees. You watch as your mom and stepdad get pulled into yet another conversation with her coworkers.

Leon’s knee bumps into yours, “Stop being so pouty.”

You tilt your head to the side to look at where he’s lounging back on his elbows next to you. 

“I’m not pouting,” you say, although you know you most definitely are. 

“Suuure,” he snarks at you.

You sigh, “It’s just.. well, she drags me to these things every year.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Okay?”

“It just sucks. She brings me along and then I’m left here by myself while she talks it up with everyone. It wasn’t so bad when dad—“

You cut yourself off, feeling embarrassed. 

You raise back up into a sitting position and cross your legs, “Never mind.”

He raises up to sit next to you, bumping your shoulders together, “No, c’mon tell me. I wanna hear.”

You pick at the loose thread on your shorts, “Well when dad was here it wasn’t so bad cause we’d goof off and make it fun. We’d pick out people and invent some silly job for them or what ludicrous name they could have. It just—“

You trail off feeling tears prick your eyes. 

“It didn’t suck,” he murmurs, reaching out and holding your hand, “sorry for bringing it up.”

You huff a small laugh, “No, it’s— you didn’t do anything. I just hate being here. Last year it was just us two, so essentially just me.”

Glancing around and noticing no one’s even near you two, Leon squeezes your hand. 

“Hey,” he noses your hairline and presses a kiss on your ear then your cheek, “I’m here, okay?”

“I know,” you give him a shy smile paired with watery eyes, “you’ve actually made today a lot of fun, so thank you.”

“Any time,” he presses a quick kiss on your mouth before pulling away. 

Your wide eyes look around as you whisper, “Leon!”

“What?” He grins, “it’s just us.”

“This time!” You whisper loudly, “you can’t just keep kissing me in public, especiallywhen our parents are nearby!”

“So you’re saying I can kiss you in public when they’re not?” His grin widens.

You gaze at him, mouth parted in disbelief, “You—“

“Kids!” your mom calls out cheerily, waving as she walks up. 

You turn to face her, Leon slipping his hand out of yours. 

“It’s starting to get late and some of us are going to stick around to help clean up,” she smiles at you two, “so you can head on home.”

You notice that the sun has started to set. Dark looking storm clouds are rolling in over the horizon. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was that late,” you stand up and brush off your shorts. 

Your mom pulls you in for a quick hug, “Thank you for staying today. It means a lot.”

You shrug awkwardly, “No problem, mom.”

She lets go of you and turns a stern gaze to Leon who’s now standing next to you, “Drive safe, young man.”

He gives her a mock salute, “Will do, ma’am.”

She smiles at him and pats his cheek, “Okay, I’ll see you guys at home.”

And with that, your mom spins around and walks off to re join her husband. 

“You ready then?” 

You glance up at Leon, “More than.”

On the drive home, the storm clouds finally break and heavy rain comes pelting down. The windshield wipers seem to be working double time, but it still makes it hard for Leon to see the road. 

“About a half hour away,” Leon nods to the GPS, “I’m gonna pull over into this park until it lets up some.”

“Okay,” you easily agree with a shrug, “you’re driving.”

He pulls into the empty lot; the small park has an even smaller parking lot to match. Leon shuts the car off and the sound of rain drumming against the roof lends itself to a soothing atmosphere. 

“I love the rain,” you sigh, gazing out the window. 

“Mm it’s nice,” Leon hums. 

He looks over at you until you finally catch his gaze. 

He grins lazily at you, “C’mere.”

You smile confusedly, “What?”

He pats his lap, “Come sit.”

A rush of heat shoots through your body. You carefully shift until you can climb over the center console and onto Leon’s lap. Your back brushes against the steering wheel and your legs are folded on either side of his bulky thighs.

His warm hands settle on your hips, gripping them to pull you snug up against his chest. 

“There we go,” his whisper falls into the space between your lips. 

Feeling shy, you tuck your face into his neck. 

“Thank you for today, for being nicer than usual,” you press a soft kiss into his skin. 

“It’s no problem,” he pokes your side making you gasp and sit up.  

“Still,” you run your hands through his hair, “thank you, Leon.”

He groans and leans his head back against the headrest. You scratch along his scalp and his eyes slip shut. 

“Mmm gonna have to be nicer if this is what it gets me,” he sighs out. 

You laugh softly and continue to run your hands through his hair. A comfortable silence only broken by the sound of rain fills the quiet. Thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts to come down even harder. 

Leon’s voice rumbles in his chest, “You ever made out in a car, Princess?” 

Flustered, you bring your hands down to drape around his neck, “No.”

“Good,” he smirks, “I like being your first for things.”

“Leon,” you squirm in embarrassment. 

He holds your hips still, “Behave. You keep moving like that and it’s gonna be more than making out.”

“Yeah,” your eyes drop to his lips, “is that a promise big brother?”

His lips thin, a mean look coming over his face, “Don’t be a brat.”

You lick your lips and smile sweetly at him. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, big brother.”

His hand comes up to your jaw and he brings your mouths together in a messy kiss. 

“Such a fucking tease,” he groans into your mouth. 

“Leon,” you mewl. 

He fucks his tongue in and out of your mouth, spit dripping down your chin making your cunt throb as you squirm and rock in his lap. His hands help your hips pick up a rhythm that has you panting and moaning in your kisses.

“So sweet,” he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. 

He rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, breaking the strand and smearing spit all over your mouth, “Sweet little sister.”

Your eyes flutter as slick fills your panties, making the slow grind on your clit wet and slippery. 

“Leon,” you whimper, lips brushing against his, “my panties are sticking to me.”

“Fuck, really?” he bites your bottom lip harshly, sucking on it before letting go with a small pop, “big brother making your little pussy cry, princess?”

“Uh huh,” you grab one of his hands and guide it to slip under the leg of your shorts. 

His fingers stroke your clit on the outside of your soaked panties. 

“Shit,” he hisses, fingers feeling around the flimsy fabric barely covering your aching cunt. 

“So wet,” he presses his face into your neck, groaning, “haven’t even touched you yet and you’re fucking dripping.”

Your hand dips between your bodies to roughly stroke him through his jeans. You feel his cock kick and throb against the palm of your hand. 

“Get in the backseat, baby,” he pulls his hand away from your wet heat and smacks your ass. 

Leon’s dark eyes watch you clamber over the console and into the backseat. He follows you immediately and maneuvers you both until he’s seated against the door with you straddling his lap. The windows in the front are completely fogged while the ones in the backseat slowly catch up. 

“God, been wanting you all day princess,” he pulls you into a heated kiss, “driving me crazy in these fucking shorts.”

“Yeah?” you whimper into his mouth. 

“Mmm, yeah could see the bruises I left on your thighs reminding me of how sweet your hot little cunt tastes,” he licks into your panting mouth, lips slick with spit, “couldn’t even touch you how I wanted.”

“Leon!” you roll your hips down onto the outline of his hard cock, “how’d you want to touch me?”

He hisses, “Like I’m doing right now, Princess. Random assholes staring at you, couldn’t even show’em what’s mine.”

He growls and bucks his hips up, pressing just right against your clit. He kisses the moan out of your mouth. 

“M yours, Leon,” you whine when he pulls his mouth away to nip and suck at your neck. 

“Yeah you are,” he sucks a bruise into your neck, “my pretty little sister, right?”

You claw at his shoulders, pressing your throat harder into his teeth, “Yeah, yeah, ‘m your little sister, no one else’s.”

“Fuck,” he moans, a raspy growl that goes straight to your throbbing cunt, “mmm or maybe you’re my sweet little girlfriend that I’m going to fuck in the backseat, huh?”

“Leon!” you keen, grinding down even  harder on the outline of his cock, clit throbbingin your panties, “want that, want it so much.”

He groans, tongue slipping into your mouth, “Gonna fuck my girlfriend’s pretty pussy til she’s creaming my cock, right?”

You nod your head quickly, “Yes, yes, please.”

“Show me your tits, baby. Wanna suck on those nipples and get this pussy nice and wet,” he pulls away, blown pupils holding your gaze. 

“Leon,” you gasp, yanking your shirt up over your head. 

Before you can undo your bra, he tugs the cups down until your breasts are spilling out, nipples tightening under his gaze. 

“Damn,” he whispers, “so fucking hot.”

He grabs your hips to slowly grind his dick into the damp heat of your pussy. His mouth latches onto a nipple and he eagerly suckles the hard bud. 

“Sensitive,” you mewl, hands moving from his shoulders to tangle in his hair. 

He ignores you and continues to suckle and teasingly bite your hard bud before switching to the other one. He continues to drift back and forth, teasing and sucking your nipples until they’re sore and puffy. His eyes slip closed with a moan when you tug his hair harder. 

“Big brother,” you whine, “you’re sucking too hard.”

He growls but pulls back from your chest, “So spoiled.”

You pout and press your hips down harder making him moan, “But you like spoiling me.”

“Yeah I do, little brat,” he shifts to pull his own shirt off and drop it on the floorboard. 

You whimper and drag your hands from his shoulders, down his broad chest, to his abs. 

“You’re so hot, Leon,” you pant, nails scratching his skin making his abs flex, “you make me so wet.”

“Can’t just say that shit,” he grits out, grabbing your hands in his, eyes dark and hungry. 

“But it’s true,” you whisper biting your lip, eyes big. 

He reaches between you and thumbs open the button on his jeans. 

“Take those fucking shorts off before I do,” his voice rasps, helping you raise your hips. 

As soon as the material of your shorts and panties are shoved down your thighs, he presses two fingers into your soaking wet pussy. 

“God damn, baby,” he watches as slick drips down his wrist, “you’re so wet for me.”

“Need you,” you whimper, “please.”

“I got you,” he tugs his own jeans and underwear down; his hard dick bounces up against your thigh smearing a sticky trail of precum. 

“Easy, baby,” he grabs the base of his cock and slaps your pussy, “ready to sit on my dick?”

“Yeah,” you pant, lifting yourself up so he can glide the head of his cock against your swollen clit to dip inside your slick hole. 

“Please, Leon.”

“Please, what?”

You whine, “Please big brother, want you to put it in.”

He chuckles meanly, “Put what in Princess?”

Your pussy clenches around nothing, slick dripping down onto Leon’s cock just teasing at your hole. 

“Please, big brother I need your cock in my pussy,” you whimper, hands scratching at his chest, “want you in my needy princess pussy.”

“Fuck, you play dirty, sweetheart,” he groans sinking the first couple of inches into your wet heat, “can’t say no to that now can I.”

He grabs your hips stilling your movement; he’s only halfway in your pussy and it’s making you desperate.  

“Leon,” your eyes water, “please, please I need it. Feel so empty,” whimpering, you drag your lips across his jaw, “don’t you wanna fuck your girlfriend’s wet pussy?”

“Fuck,” he hisses, slowly easing you down, his cock sliding deeper but still not bottoming out.

“Gotta savor this one princess, s’gonna be a slow fuck for your little cunt.”

Your thighs spasm as you hiccup a moan, tears filling your eyes. 

“But Leon—“

“Uh uh,” he clicks his tongue, eyes dark and mean, “big brother knows what’s best.”

Your cunt flutters around his cock making you both moan. Even though he’s only teasing the first few inches of his cock in and out of your pussy, it sounds wet and dirty. 

“Fuck me,” he huffs a laugh, “you’re leaking so much it’s dripping down my balls. You’re gonna get the family car all dirty, baby.”

Your back arches as you press your body weight down; you feel Leon sink further into your cunt before his hands grip your hips like a vice. 

“What did I say? Do I need to spank your slutty cunt? To make sure you’re listening to me?”

You whimper, “M-maybe.”

“Oh?” he grins, “do I need to spank that needy pussy and show her who’s in charge?”

Your eyes slip shut as you nod, “Yeah, yeah, big brother needs to spank my pussy.”

He growls and pulls you up off of his cock; you whine and writhe your hips but he sets you back down in his lap, pussy lips sandwiching his dick. 

A faint buzzing comes from Leon’s phone tucked into the center console. 

You rock your hips forward and shiver as your clit rubs against his cock in a slippery drag of friction.

“None of that,” he smacks your thigh, pulling your dazed expression up to meet his heated gaze, “you ready?”

“Yes,” you grab his hand and push it against your soaked cunt, “spank my princess pussy; she needs big brother to really give it to her.”

“Fuck,” he bites out, “fucking slut.”

He cups the wet heat of your pussy then brings his hand back and smacks upward, covering your mound and swollen clit with his palm. 

You whine high in your throat, hands reaching behind you to hold onto his thighs for purchase. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs, “be good and let me spank you.”

“Uh huh,” you lean back onto your hands, arching your hips to put your pussy more on display, “need my boyfriend to really give my naughty pussy a spanking.”

“God damn,” he clenches his eyes shut a moment, then looks back down at your puffy clit and drippy cunt. 

“Got a slutty fucking girlfriend don’t I,” his voice rasps, smacking your pussy again and again and again, “or should I say slutty little sister, just letting her brother play with her pussy whenever he wants.”

The sharp stings fade into a low heat with every slap, making your clit throb and hole clench on nothing. Your hips jump up into each slap, thighs trembling. 

“Hold still,” his voice darkens, “and let me spank your slutty cunt.”

“‘M not slutty,” you gasp out, “m just needy.”

“Is that right?” he mocks, dragging his middle and index finger through your slick before circling your sore clit. 

“I guess it can’t be helped,” he sighs, fingers dipping into your hole, “big brother will have to fill up this wet and sloppy cunt.”

“Please,” you arch down onto his fingers, “Leon, big brother, I need it.”

He pulls his fingers away and lines his cock up with your wet clenching hole. He presses in with a low groan as you rock your hips down until he bottoms out completely. You wince at how deep he is inside of you; the fat tip pressing against your cervix making you rock forward, enjoying the ache deep in your cunt. 

“So deep,” you pant, nails digging into his forearms, “hurts.”

“It does?” He coos all fake sympathy, “guess I should pull out then.”

“Nooo,” you clench down tightly. 

“No?” he grinds his cock upward making your eyes roll back from the pain blooming into pleasure as your hips jump. 

“If it’s too deep I need to pull out,” he kisses your cheek, “don’t want to hurt my sweetbaby sister.”

You whimper as he slips back just a little and then presses hard into your fluttering walls. His tip kisses the opening of your cervix making you squeal in pain, but he holds your hips down making you take it. His thumb moves to brush against your clit in soft, teasing circles. 

“Hurts, princess?” he licks the tears dripping down your face, “is it too much? Does your boyfriend’s cock stretch you out too far?”

Nonsensical sounds come from your lips, tongue lying heavy and useless in your mouth. He keeps grinding too deep and touching your clit with delicate fingers, making wires cross in your brain until you feel nothing but white hot pleasure overtaking your body. 

“Are you fucking cumming?” he whispers in awe, feeling your walls milk his cock as slick drips out of your spasming hole. 

“Fucking hell,” he slowly eases you back, his cock still inside your pussy just not as deep as before. 

“Leon,” you slur, eyes hazy, “s’good.”

He laughs, “Sure seems like it, baby. Want to just sit on my dick, keep me nice and warm for awhile? Til you’re ready to go again?”

You hum a sound of agreement, “Sounds nice.”

He groans, “Yeah it does.”

He helps you shift your hips so his cock isn’t pressing into you too deeply and he brings your mouth in for a sloppy kiss. 

“Love kissing you,” he coaxes you to open your mouth wider, “always so eager.”

You feel giggly and warm, “Love kissing you too, Leon.”

He sighs in your mouth, tongues slowly sliding together between your lips. His kisses turn slower, sweeter— tongue licking into your mouth, tasting you as deep as possible. You feel his cock kick and throb in your sensitive cunt. Shifting, you press yourself down a little more firmly, pussy walls gripping his cock tightly. 

A faint buzzing comes from the floorboard where your shorts were tossed. Leon pulls you further into his chest, rolling his hips up into your soaked pussy. Buzzing happens again but this time from the center console; you both ignore it as Leon presses the fat tip of his dick and grinds along the spongy spot in your cunt that drives you crazy. 

He pulls away from your sloppy kissing, pupils so big his eyes look black. Both phones are now buzzing with calls. 

“s’that the spot, sweetheart?” He grinds his dick deeper in your squelching cunt. 

“Leon,” you keen, hands tugging his hair, “it’s so good, you feel so good inside me.”

He growls, hips thrusting up into you harder, faster. 

“God, princess, got the best fucking pussy,” he bites your jaw, “little cunt made for my cock.”

His fingers tease across your wet, swollen clit. 

“Yeah, yeah, please,” you pull your hips and drop them back down, “so good, big brother.”

He presses the back of his head against the car door’s fogged up window, eyes hooded as he watches you bounce on his dick. He keeps his fingers on your clit, stroking and pinching, making you buck your hips into the feeling. 

He watches as a frown forms on your brows, your hips slowing down. 

“Leon,” embarrassment colors your voice, “we have to stop, I-I gotta pee.”

He grins wolfishly, “You ever squirted before, sweetheart?”

“N-no,” you frown, hands pressing against his abs trying to slow his thrusts up into your dripping pussy but he keeps hammering up into you, “s-stop or I’m gonna—“

“S’fine,” he soothes, grinding his dick in the same spot, “want you to squirt on my dick, baby.”

“I c-can’t,” your lip quivers, tears pricking your eyes. 

“Sure you can, Princess,” his fingers rub your clit more firmly, “c’mon want you to soak the backseats.”

He grins wickedly, “Our parents will never have t’know.”

Another harsh grind against the spongy spot in your cunt has you locking up, your back arching as your orgasm overtakes your body. 

“Leon!” a gasping wail leaves you as you feel slick gush from your pussy, soaking your thighs and Leon. 

“Fuck, fuck!” Leon grabs your hips and holds you flush with him as he cums inside your still clenching pussy. 

You feel the heat as rope after rope of sticky cum fills your spasming cunt. Slowly, you settle back on Leon’s thighs, his dick plugging up your cunt keeping most of his cum inside. 

His hands are still gripping your hips tightly, making your walls pulse, softly milking him still. 

“Oh,” you exhale, and pull your nails away from where you dug them into his chest, leaving nine bloody crescents to frame his pecs. 

“S’okay, sweetheart,” he grins at you, all sweetness and soft eyes, “got nothing to complain about.”

“Ah,” you squirm feeling embarrassed, “that was..”

“Hot,” he rubs his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “gonna need a repeat, princess. See if next time I can get you to squirt on my fingers.”

“Leon,” you pout, body feeling hot. 

A loud consistent buzz breaks through the fog in your brain. 

“That’s been going off for awhile now,” you bite your lip. 

Leon raises up, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you seated on his cock. He leans up further and fumbles around the center console til he pulls back holding his phone. 

He accepts the call and puts it on speakerphone, “Hey Pops.” 

“Where the hell are you?! Are you okay?”

Leon ducks his head, even though his dad can’t see it, “Uh yeah, the roads got bad so we pulled over. Sorry my phone was on silent so I didn’t realize you were calling.”

A pause from his dad before he sighs, “Well as long as you’re okay. Just next time let someone know, okay?”

“Will do, Pops. Sorry to worry you.”

“Let’s try not to do it again, son,” his dad chuckles, “drive safe.”

“I will.” 

And with that the call ends, basking you two in silence except for the light drizzle of rain hitting the car. 

Leon jostles you again making you gasp as his half hard cock slips out a few inches. 

“Shit,” he hisses, “let me—“

He grabs his t-shirt off the floorboard and slips it underneath you as he pulls completely out. You whimper as his cum drips from your sore cunt. 

“Sexy,” he murmurs eyes going dark again, running his fingers through your slick folds to tease at your hole. 

“Leon,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist, “shouldn’t we go home before we worry them more?”

With his free hand, he easily moves your hand from his wrist and slots your fingers together. His other fingers dip into your cum filled hole but don’t go any further. 

He brings up the hand he’s holding and kisses your knuckles, “One more round couldn’t hurt, princess.”

A beam of headlights cross the car’s interior as another vehicle pulls into the parking lot. 

You squeak and duck your face down into Leon’s neck, who chuckles and pulls you down to lay on top of him in the backseat. 

“What’re we going to do?” You whisper scream at him, tilting your head up, eyes wide and anxious. 

He gives a half hearted shrug underneath you and spreads your legs further to slide his cock between your thighs. You feel it stiffening against you cunt, dragging cum and slick all over your pussy lips.

“About to fill you up again, baby,” he kisses your ear, “gotta keep quiet though, don’t want them hearing you getting your little princess pussy fucked by your big brother.”

You whine, hips grinding down on his dick. 

“They wouldn’t even know,” you whisper hotly, “like you said earlier, probably just think I’m your girlfriend.”

“Mmm they might when I make you scream big brother over and over again,” he laughs meanly, pinching your ass making you buck into his hips. 

He pulls one of your legs up higher and slips his cock into your pussy; it’s an easy slide for his fat cock at this point, bottoming out quickly. 

You whine into his shoulder, eyes fluttering from feeling sore and used. 

“There we go,” he coos mockingly, “just let me fill up that slutty little pussy, right baby sis?”

“Uh huh,” you drool into his skin, teeth nipping to muffle any sounds you’re making, “fill me up so good.”

He’s slowly grinding his cock in you, pelvic bone catching your clit with every circle of his hips. Your pussy is so sensitive, you feel yourself edging closer and closer to an orgasm. 

“Leon,” you sigh, cunt milking his cock as he slowly fucks in and out of your pussy, “you feel so good.”

He laughs at you, “Mmm I know, your tight hot pussy hasn’t let go of me since I slipped my dick in.”

You whine, walls fluttering at his words, “Can’t help it. You’re too big.”

He grips your ass in both hands, squeezing til the fat dimples between his fingers, “Nah you just got a little pussy. A cute little pussy that matches my cute little sister.”

You lay against him, mouthing at his shoulder and moaning as he keeps sliding in and out of your clenching hole. Slick is dripping out of your cunt and all over his cock, sliding down to coat his balls and thighs. 

“This is the juiciest fucking pussy,” he growls in your ear, cunt squelching on every slow push and pull of his dick inside you, “do you hear how wet you are? God so fucking hot.”

“Mmm,” you slur, eyes lidded, “so stretched out, big brother.”

He groans, hips humping up into you for a few thrusts before he slows down again. 

 “Leon,” you whisper against his shoulder, “m gonna cum.”

“So soon?” his voice is low and deep, making goosebumps raise across your skin, “feeling that good, Princess?”

“Yeah,” you mewl.

“Say who’s making you feel so good, baby,” he growls, smacking your ass. 

You roll your hips down harder at the sting and pant, “Big brother. Big brother fucks my little pussy so good.”

“Again.”

Your drooling, eyes dazed as you moan, “Big brother makes my little Princess pussy feel so good.”

“Good girl,” he condescends, “that’s right, no one fucks this pussy as good as me. In fact no one better fuck this pussy except me, right?”

“Uh huh, no one,” you shudder, “all yours.”

“That’s right. My little sister’s pussy is all mine,” he grunts, rocking you together faster, “gonna cum in you again, keep your little pussy full.”

“Need it,” your nails dig into his biceps, “fill me up, big brother.”

“Yeah, you love me breeding this cute pussy,” he grinds up into your clenching heat, “girlfriend’s got the neediest fucking cunt.”

A high reedy cry leaves your throat, pussy walls eagerly pulsing around his dick, “Yeah, yeah I do. Big brother!”

His hands come down to squeeze your ass, the fat dimpling between his fingers. He fucks into your pussy with short deep thrusts. 

“Mm cumming,” your toes curl with the mounting pleasure ramping up in your body, “Le—“

You muffle your scream by biting down into Leon’s shoulder hard. Your orgasm makes the muscles in your thighs jump, hips humping down on Leon’s cock. Distantly, you feel him press up into your pussy and fill you with hot, sticky cum all over again. 

Dizzy, you slump down onto Leon’s heaving chest. 

You feel him run his hands up your back to pet through your hair. You nuzzle further into his chest with a hum.

“S’nice,” you whisper into his skin. 

“Mmm,” he pets down your side before dragging fingertips across your hips, “think you’re gonna bruise, sweetheart.”

You push yourself up from his chest, eyes looking out the windows; seeing the other car is gone, you raise completely up. 

“You will too,” you point out, fingers skating across the spots you bit and crescent marks from your nails. 

He smirks, “Gonna get a lot of guys asking me who I fucked so good.”

“Leon,” you smack his arm, “so mean.”

He chuckles and smooths his hands down your thighs, “Yeah but you like it.”

Shyly your gaze drops to his mouth, “Yeah, I do.”

“As much as I’d love to keep you here all night, we probably should head back home,” he pats your hips.

Grabbing his shirt from before he slips it between your bodies. 

“Up, princess,” he helps you raise your hips and presses his shirt against your puffy cunt. 

“I’ll never get tired of that,” he groans, shifting his gaze from your leaking pussy  back up to your face, “need you to get dressed before I change my mind.”

Feeling a swirl of emotions, elated-aroused-fond, you nod your head and grab your panties and shorts. You slip them on after wiping down as well as you can.

You frown at the shirt in your hand, and look at Leon who’s got his jeans back on and scratching at his head with a yawn. 

“What shirt are you gonna wear?”

He shrugs, “I’ll just say it got wet and I didn’t want the seat to get wet so I took it off.”

“Oh,” you fold it inside out, keeping the mess hidden, “well hopefully that works.”

Leon helps you climb back into the passenger seat; he follows and slides into the driver’s side. Cranking the car, he cuts on the defrost to help with the fogged up windows. 

You two sit in a comfortable silence and watch the rain mist against the windshield. 

“I had fun today,” you whisper, a secret just between you two. 

He grabs your hand and kisses the back, “I did too.”

#stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #stepbro leon s kennedy/you #stepbro!leon s kennedy #stepcest #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #lipglossanon #jealous stepbro leon

[dirtyvulture]

Darkest Knight - Part 4

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You meet a pretty woman in a bar...

Word count: 3787

AN: Please enjoy the long-awaited finale!

Click here for Part 3!

Natasha tears after you, light-headed from the sudden change in emotions. She can barely keep up with you down the hall until you suddenly screech to a halt, holding your arm out to block her from going further.

“Y/N–”

“Shh,” you hiss, your hands clenching into fists, the silver, razor-sharp claws bursting out of your knuckles. “Wait here.” You slip silently around the corner and Natasha holds her breath in wait. She hears a man cuss, then the muted blast of a gun, and she cringes when she sees splinters fly from the wall. There’s a few thuds and cut off screams and you suddenly pop back, blood on your hands and the front of your shirt.

“I definitely ruined the professor’s curtains,” you say with a heavy sigh. “Let’s go the other way. Stay close. They’re only here for you.”

Natasha hates being reminded that she is the reason for this chaos and bloodshed, but she knows it’s the truth and you probably didn’t mean to remind her so brashly. She grabs onto the back of your shirt, tailing you closely, her heart beating in her throat. 

“We need to find Storm. Or Jean. Or anyone, really,” you explain, not sure why there hadn’t been a better plan for this inevitable scenario. But you follow your nose, although the air is now muddled with unfamiliar scents. You’re careful to use all your senses to stay on high alert, but it seems like the Red Room agents have learned a thing or two from your past encounters.

A thick white smoke fills the second floor of the mansion and you grope behind you for Natasha’s hand in desperation. You duck into a room.

“Get the windows open,” you tell Natasha. “As wide as you can.”

“Are we going to jump?” she asks fearfully.

“No. But Storm can get a nice breeze in here to push out the smoke.”

Natasha doesn’t question you further but struggles to open the stiff latches of the old windows. You come over to help her, waving plumes of smoke towards the open screens.

“Let’s keep moving.” You make your way through two more rooms uninterrupted. Outside, the sky has taken an ominous gray tone and a powerful wind rips through the trees. “Hey Nat, we should–”

But the moment you turn around and see Natasha being held at gunpoint by a Widow you lose all control. Four male soldiers funnel into the room, blasting lead slugs into your chest and stomach. You don’t even have to unleash your claws as you slump to the ground with a loud thump, your arms accidentally pinning underneath you. You wheeze raggedly, your body pounding in agony. 

“Y/N!” Natasha screams as the Widow drags her out of the room.

Blood leaks out of your mouth as you try to push yourself up, but your body is too weak to cooperate. The three soldiers run up to you, punching and kicking every inch of you they can reach. You curl into a ball as best as you can, humiliated by your inability to fight back. And you’ve lost Natasha. 

“This is for Antonov!” one of the soldiers shouts as he stomps on your head, leaving an imprint of his boot on your cheek. Pain rattles in your head and you can’t even breathe, trying to wait for a break, but they don’t let up.

“You’re a fucking mutant, aren’t you?” Someone grabs your hair and wrenches your head back. You spit a spray of blood and saliva in defense and he leaps back, cursing and kicking. You hear a shotgun reload again, squirming on the floor to free your arms. “Stop moving so I can put you down like the animal you are.” 

You’re not sure how well you’ll take another gunshot at this close range, but you’re about to find out. You close your eyes and brace yourself.

Suddenly, you hear four different screams and feel an immense heat singing the back of your neck. You crack your eyes open to see familiar red laser beams sweep across the room, knocking the soldiers into the walls. Scott stands in the doorway, shoving his glasses back on as he surveys the damage.

“Y/N, are you okay?” You feel Jean’s hands on your back as she helps you up.

“Nat,” you groan. “Where’s Nat?” 

“I thought she was with you,” Scott says.

“No,” you grunt. “They took her.” As you stand, the pain in your gut is more obvious than ever and you almost crumple back to the ground, but Scott comes forward to steady you. 

“We’ll find her,” he says, and despite the differences the two of you have always had, you know you can count on him.

“Go find her,” you say, clutching at your stomach as you feel one of the slugs trying to push its way out of your body. “I’ll catch up.”

“We’re not going to leave you, Y/N,” Jean says.

As frustrating as it is that your teammates won’t leave you, you know they’re coming from a good place. “Okay,” you resign, taking your first unsteady step. “Let’s go.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha feels totally helpless as the Widow drags her away from you. Out in the hall, a group of them swarm her, handcuffing her hands behind her back and forcing her to walk with a hunch, facing the floor as if she doesn’t already know the surroundings. The Widows form a diamond around her, like they would a prisoner, and she wants to laugh at the irony.

“I know none of you have any control over what you’re doing, but please don’t do this–” she starts.

“Shut up, traitor,” a Widow says in Russian, thumping Natasha hard on the back of her head. “Dreykov is waiting at home to kill you himself.”

“After he has some fun with her first,” another one adds and a chuckle spreads through the group as dread turns Natasha’s stomach into knots. 

They force her down a staircase, kicking open a door and dragging her outside. The weather is violent, a complete 180 from how it had been when they had just been watching the students take off in vans. Natasha had been curious how exactly Ororo’s powers worked, but it was obvious they were in full effect now. The wind picked up in great gusts that had the Widows ducking down to their knees, unable to stand at full height without being bowled over. Natasha dropped to her stomach, curling up as the wind spun around them.

“Hey, she’s one of ours!” She hears a man with a Russian accent boom. Fearing a fight will break out between the Widows and the Wolf Spiders, she hunkers into a tight ball and hopes they don’t try tearing her in half. But then she hears the Widows scream and scatter, and peeks up to see Peter, the enormous man she had met previously, his entire body covered in a coating of metal, effortlessly picking up the Widows and throwing them far out into the driveway. Kitty is here too and Natasha swears she’s seeing things when she blinks and Kitty dives through a Widow, turning around and slamming the confused spy onto the ground.

There’s another young man here that Natasha doesn’t immediately recognize. He drops to his knees and splays his hand on the ground, shooting out crackling beams of ice that encase the soldiers’ and stop them in their tracks. 

“We got you, Nat!” Marie is suddenly by Natasha’s side and helps her up. A Widow staggers towards them, but Marie strips off her glove with her teeth and grabs onto the Widow’s exposed hand with her own. The Widow freezes and gasps, tensing up like a board and flopping back onto the ground. “Bobby, over here!”

The boy who could make ice appear out of thin air jogs over and Natasha guesses this must be Marie’s boyfriend. He shadows her and Marie protectively, freezing any of the soldiers that get too close to them.

“Thank you, thank you,” Natasha says, impressed and a little shocked by the powers of these teenagers. Marie and Bobby lead her back into the mansion while Peter and Kitty handle the rest of the Widows. “Have you seen Y/N?” she asks Marie, panic filling her when she thinks about the last time she saw you.

Marie shakes her head. “Don’t worry about Y/N. She’ll be fine. Besides, she told us that we were supposed to protect you at all costs.”

Natasha wants to cry when she hears this. She can’t think of anything she’s done in her life to deserve someone like you. 

Peter and Kitty rush back into the mansion and shut the door. 

“Nat, turn around,” Kitty instructs and Natasha obeys with some confusion. She feels Kitty wrap her hands around the handcuffs and push down; suddenly there is a clatter and Natasha feels her wrists completely freed.

“How did you–”

Kitty waves her off. “All part of being a superhero,”  she says with a wink. 

“We have to move. They’ll find another way in,” Peter says, moving large pieces of furniture in front of the doors.

“Well, they did just get their asses handed to them by a bunch of teenagers, so maybe that’ll make them think twice–” Kitty says.

“We can’t hold them off forever, so what do we do now?” Bobby asks.

“You’ve all done enough.” Everyone whips around to see Professor Xavier roll into the hall, closely accompanied by Ororo. “I see the Danger Room training has been of great use,” Professor Xavier notes. “Excellent job, everyone.”

There is a loud crash from the top of the staircase. Natasha’s heart leaps when she sees you again at the top, although Jean’s arm is around your waist to help you down the steps and a feral pulse of jealousy shoots through her. Natasha runs over and takes the stairs two at a time to push Jean out of the way and take her place next to you.

“I’m fine, Nat, I’m fine,” you insist as she surveys you for any injuries. While you’ve mostly recovered, you are secretly enjoying the doting, even though it’s not really the time for it. You let Natasha help you to the bottom of the stairs, feeling Jean’s cold gaze on your backs but for once relishing in her jealousy. 

“Maybe I should just give myself up,” Natasha says suddenly, her fingers tightening in your side.

“No!” you respond. “Absolutely not.” You would fight the Red Room agents until your entire body gave out if you had to. 

“No one is going anywhere,” Professor Xavier says, and you relax a little when he takes control. 

“But Professor–” Scott starts, and you’re going to smack him upside the head if he suggests that Natasha sacrifice herself. 

“One moment. No one move.”

Natasha presses closer to you and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anticipation. You can smell the blood, sweat, and fear as the Red Room soldiers traverse through the empty halls in search of your group. They’ll be bursting in any minute. 

“Y/N,” Natasha whimpers and you quiet her by holding her closer to your body.

“Watch,” you tell her just in time as everyone hears the clamor of armed men and women run into the foyer. But they all freeze mid-movement, guns raised but trigger fingers straight. You can move freely and you leave Natasha to walk up to one, staring down the barrel of his shotgun with a smirk. “Not so cocky now, are we?” you say, even though you know he can’t hear you. Purely out of spite, you release your claws and slash his gun in half.

“Y/N!” Scott admonishes.

“Sorry, it slipped,” you respond.

Professor Xavier’s eyes are screwed shut, his concentration deep as he holds all the Red Room soldiers still. “You will return where you came from,” he says. “You will tell your leader that Natasha Romanoff was not here. You will look elsewhere and you will forget everything you saw here today.”

Natasha feels like she’s in a trance herself as she listens to the professor’s calm voice wash over her. She sees the glazed looks in the Wolf Spiders’ and Widows’ eyes. What kind of power does the professor have to control them like this? She shudders at the thought of what he could do if he wasn’t on their side.

“Now go.” With Professor Xavier’s final words, the Red Room soldiers snap out of their stupor. 

The soldier holding half a gun stares at it in pure shock, then looks back at your face.

“You heard the man,” you snap and he drops the remainder of his gun, spinning around, frantically searching for an exit. There is a stampede as they funnel out the windows and front door that Peter has wrenched open once more. All of you wait until the last Widow darts across the driveway, retreating to their armored tanks and peeling away.

“Couldn’t have done that from the beginning, Professor?” you comment as all of you crowd in the double doorways to watch them flee. The sky brightens back up courtesy of Storm, the sudden winds and darkness earlier drifting away.

“You were all getting a little too comfortable around here,” Professor Xavier teases. “Now Marie, if you’d be so kind as to get the cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink, I think Y/N has some curtains to clean–”

“Oh hell,” you mutter, as everyone laughs. 

***********************************************************************

Life at the school quickly returns to normal the following week. Any damage done by the X-Men or the Red Room agents is quickly repaired and the students are none the wiser of the true reason for their impromptu weekend getaway. And once everything is settled and well, you and Natasha can finally pick back up where you had left off.

She has you pinned to the bed, her lips frantic and demanding on yours, as her fingers make quick work of the buttons on your shirt. Your head spins as you’re overwhelmed by her scent and taste, jogging your hips up to show her how desperate you are for her. You’re not usually one to beg, but you absolutely mean it when you say you’ll do anything for Natasha Romanoff.

She yanks open your shirt and flattens her palms on your chest, pushing you down harder into the mattress as she leaves a hot trail of kisses across your face and down your neck. The marks she leaves there heal almost instantly and she grumbles in frustration.

“What’s wrong, Nat?” you ask, squeezing her sides.

“You heal too fast,” she says, her cheeks tinging pink.

“It’s okay. Everyone here knows I’m yours.” You hear her heartbeat pick up when you say this. 

“Mine?” she says.

“All yours, darling.”

Gone is the shy, hesitant demeanor the first time you and her were in bed. Natasha takes the lead with a stunning amount of confidence, removing her own shirt and tossing it somewhere in the corner of your room. You swallow hard when you see her exposed flesh, marred with a few faded scars that you want to trace and kiss. 

“It’s okay,” she whispers, so quietly you’re not even sure if you heard correctly or you were imagining it. “You can touch me.”

But you hesitate, reminded of the damage you’ve caused and the lives you’ve taken with your bare hands. Natasha is too pure for you and you’re afraid to ruin her by keeping her in your life. And no matter how much you like her, you don’t know if it’s the right choice to stick around with her.

“Y/N,” Natasha says. “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” you reply, your hands frozen to where they are on her waist. “Are you sure you want to…be with me?” You hate how nervous you sound, but you’ve never been around someone who’s given you so many butterflies before.

“Of course.” Natasha grabs onto your hands with hers, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re the first person who showed me I was worthy of being comfortable and safe and…loved.” Your heart beats harder. “I only want to be with you because I trust you and I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Nat…” It takes a lot to get you emotional, and now you feel yourself embarrassingly getting choked up. 

“I love you,” she says, her own voice choking. “And I want to show you how much I love you.”

If you had any doubts before, you don’t now. Both of you remove the remainder of your clothing and you moan when Natasha rests her bare center on your abs and rocks back and forth. The heat against your skin is intoxicating, almost as much as the smell, and you’re tempted to ask her to sit on your face until her legs are shaking. 

But Natasha seems to be taking the lead with some other plans, grabbing your hands again and bringing them to her breasts.

“I said it was okay if you touched me,” she reminds you with a wink. 

“O-Okay,” you stammer, can’t remembering the last time you were this flustered in bed with someone. But the moment is so intimate and exciting, you don’t want to be the one to mess it up. Natasha looks down at you and surveys your body in what you can only describe as lust, and you are secretly thrilled you can make her just as happy as she makes you. You roll your fingers over her nipples until they stiffen and she pants at the attention, her arousal heightening. She holds onto your forearms, squeezing them experimentally as if she can feel your claws housed there, then she leans forward and to grasp onto your biceps. 

An added effect of the metal on your bones meant you were carrying around an additional 200 pounds of weight. While your rapid healing prevented you from completely tearing apart each time you moved, it also kept you in peak physical condition, something Natasha seemed very appreciative of right now. 

Natasha grinds harder on your stomach, the stickiness of her center more apparent than ever, and you can’t deny yourself any longer. You let go of her breasts to put your hands firmly on her hips again. 

“Scoot back, babe. I want to feel you,” you say, delighting in her increased heartbeat. With your hands as guidance, Natasha shimmies her body back until her center is almost above yours. You bend her left leg across your stomach so she can sit at a more comfortable angle. The moment she lowers herself and her heat touches yours, you feel like you’re going to melt into the mattress.

“Oh fuck,” Natasha moans, her arms shaking as she braces herself on your abs and thigh.

“Does that feel good?” you ask, pushing her hips in a gentle rocking motion. You wonder if Natasha can feel the way you’re throbbing against her the way she is against you. The stimulation is so incredible, you’re worried you won’t last much longer and then the moment will be over. 

Natasha can only nod as she tries moving her hips faster, but you force her to slow down and savor the moment.

“F-Fuck, Y/N,” she pants, digging her nails harder into your skin.

“Look at me. Hold my hand,” you demand, offering her one of your own and she squeezes it tightly, shifting her eyes to yours with a little bit of nervousness, but mostly trust and love. “It’s okay,” you assure her. “I got you.”

“Thank you,” she whispers back. You roll your hips to match her rhythm, all your thoughts and worries quietly drifting from your head as you focus on your moment with Natasha. You separate your legs a little wider so she can press her center harder against yours, her wetness and yours creating a slick surface for her to ride on, your entire body buzzing with a rush of adrenaline and endorphins. 

“Just like that,” you guide. “That’s my good girl.” Natasha looks so perfect sitting atop of you, riding you with determination to satisfy you. Your clit throbs when Natasha brushes against it and you can tell she’s close from the way her breathing becomes more and more uneven. But you don’t even care about your own release anymore. You just want her to feel good. 

“I…I think I’m gonna–” But Natasha can’t even get the words out as she cums, in too much ecstasy to even vocalize the pleasure you’ve brought her. You keep moving your hips, so turned on by Natasha’s reaction that it sends you to your own peak. The bliss is so overwhelming you go limp on the bed, and when you finally calm down, you find Natasha curled up on your chest, her face tucked into the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around her, almost crushing her against you and she whispers for you to hold her closer.

***********************************************************************

“This is nice,” Natasha says as the two of you stand on the balcony. A strange game of volleyball is going on with one student duplicating himself to play on both sides, and another with an enormous pair of what she can only describe as angel wings, flies high into the air for a deadly spike. 

“Yeah, it is,” you agree, tightening your arms around her waist from behind. 

“I know they aren’t looking for me, per se, but I know this bubble of safety won’t last forever,” she says.

“Nat, I told you, you’ll always be safe with me.”

“I know.” She turns around in your arms to look at you. “That’s why I want you to come with me.” You tilt your head in confusion. “We’re going to find where the Red Room is, and take them down from the inside.”

“No one knows where the Red Room is,” you say, not realizing how dumb it sounds when you remember the kind of people you have on your side. “I mean, I’m sure the professor could pull some strings and…” You pause. “That’s way too dangerous, Nat.”

“Will you come with me?”

You think it’s a silly idea to track and take down an entire organization infamous for producing deadly spies and soldiers. But you know how important this is to Natasha. Maybe you could even talk some of the others into coming for backup, but you know her mind is already set, whether or not you accompany her.

“Of course I will.” You kiss her in confirmation, loving the way she seems to melt in your arms every time you touch her. “Whenever you’re ready.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: A happy ending as promised!

I would absolutely love to continue writing this AU, so maybe I'll come by soon with something. Thanks for reading! Please leave likes, comments, and reblogs! 🥰

Update: I wrote a one-shot sequel to this fic, which you can find here. Happy reading!

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

[isalisewrites]

TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER THIRTY

SUMMARY:

“Harry Potter.” The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.

“The Boy Who Lived.”

A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy could’ve been so much more if he’d not stepped down this bloodied path.

Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.

“Come to die.”

Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.

---

When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.

---

THIRTY EXCERPT:

“And you, Hatchling,” said Nagini, her eyes on Harry now. There was an air of contentment surrounding the two of them, as Tom stroked her scales. Harry’s heart swelled with warmth at the fond gaze Tom held for his familiar. “Have you agreed to learn how to better speak my language, Hatchling?”

“I’ve agreed to lessons, yeah,” said Harry. “It’d be nice to learn how to control it.”

“We’ll practice parseltongue tomorrow while everyone has gone to Hogsmeade.”

Harry sank in disappointment. “What?” he said, looking directly at Tom and not noticing his switch to English. “But I’ve been looking forward to the Hogsmeade trip. Aren’t you going? Don’t you have a plan for it?”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Plan?”

“Yeah, do you want to get some sweets or check out the bookstore?”

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

“I don’t need anything,” said Tom, shaking his head. “Why would I go?”

Harry was at a loss now. He wasn’t sure why he felt so disappointed about the fact of missing a Hogsmeade trip. It wasn’t like he really needed to go either. But… I’d like to go with Tom. “I dunno,” he said, scrambling for a reason. “Uh, for a change of scenery?”

Tom folded his arms. “Harry, have you seen the grounds?” he asked with a sardonic lilt. “There’s plenty of scenery to take in. If you’re in dire need of the outdoors, we can always take the lessons to the grounds.”

“Not quite what I meant and you know it.”

“You know it’s rude to exclude the other party in the room from your conversation. Are you two fighting again?”

Huh? Wait, I wasn’t speaking in parseltongue?

Tom rolled his eyes. “This is ridiculous. You are not convincing me.”

“Yes, yes, forget I exist again, why don’t you?”

“Nagini, he’s being difficult.”

“Me?” protested Harry, shifting back to parseltongue when his gaze rested on Nagini. “I just would like to go to Hogsmeade.” With you. “And the others are going, too. Come with us. It’ll be fun.”

“A Hogsmeade trip is a waste of time if you’re not buying anything in particular,” said Tom, shaking his head. “I’m not interested.”

Nagini’s eyes were sharp as she eyed them both. She uncurled from Tom’s lap, slithering away silently, until she disappeared from the curtains. Neither Harry nor Tom noted her absence.

“But aren’t there other interesting places to visit? We could get a butterbeer.”

“It’s frivolous spending.”

Oh.

Harry blinked. Oh. That was right. While Harry knew what it’d been like to live without money of his own as a child, that had changed when he’d gotten his Hogwarts letter and discovered the wealth his parents had left him. He hadn’t exactly been ‘frivolous’ with his money, but he hadn’t paid attention to it either, not like Ron had often worried about money.

Even now, with his funds somewhat limited, he hadn’t really thought about it too much or what he’d have to do in the future to earn a living. But Tom, on the other hand, was on an assistance fund here at Hogwarts. The only reason he could attend the school at all was because of that fund. Though Tom had always appeared immaculate in his appearance, Harry couldn’t help but wonder now if his belongings were secondhand.

“Right,” whispered Harry. “I forgot.”

Tom frowned. “Forgot what.”

“Well… you haven’t got any family, so I forgot that also probably means you haven’t got money either.”

A mixture of embarrassment and anger flushed through Tom’s cheeks. His chest puffed up; the light in his eyes grew flinty.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #hp #fanfiction #fanfic #harrymort #terrible but great #hp fanfic #mywriting #harry potter/tom riddle #hp fanfiction #isa's writing

[abbygraceasd]

11th Doctor x reader x Ganger!Doctor Threesome Smut

this was a request from my ao3

It’s strange, there being two Doctors. One is a Ganger, a clone, the other is the real Doctor.

You really couldn’t tell which was which, that was somewhat alarming.

You kept glancing between the two, trying to find subtle differences to figure out which one was really him.

Your glances came to an end when one of the two went off with Amy and Rory.

“I don’t know.” The Doctor in the room with you chuckles lowly.

You turn your head to him, “Hmm?”

“I don’t know how he can stand to be in the same room as you.” He speaks, walking towards you slowly.

“What does that mean?” You back away from him, until you hit the wall.

He leans down and grabs your chin, making you look at him, “Look at you… So unaware of how much he wants you…”

“What are you talking about?”

His free hand strokes from your lower thigh up to your waist, “You really have no clue, do you?” His eyes darken, slotting his body between your thighs, arms caging you in.

“What are you doing?” You ask fearfully.

“Showing you how he feels about you.” He smirks, leaning in to kiss you.

The door opens, and he pulls away from your face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” The Doctor stalks up to his double quickly, pulling him away from you completely, “You may look like me but you sure aren’t me.”

The Ganger smirks, “You’re right, I’m not scared to go after what you want.” He glances at you.

The Doctor’s face pales.

“Doctor, what does he mean?”

He doesn’t answer you, glaring at the Ganger, “She is off limits to you.”

“I think you’re forgetting we’re the same. We have the same face, same thoughts, same urges. And since you won’t tell her, I will…” He trails off, turning to face you, “He fancies you. Can’t stop wondering what it would be like to kiss you. You wouldn’t believe how many times he’s got off to the thought of you coming undone on top of him.”

Your face flushes, snapping your head to look at the Doctor, he looks furious, ready to kill.

He grabs his Ganger by the jacket, pushing him against the wall, “You have no right to say that to her, to tell her that.”

“Well, it’s not like you were ever gonna do it.” He grins, “Besides it’s not like she doesn’t like it.” The Ganger turns the Doctor’s face to look at you.

You are staring at the both of them, wide-eyed and flushed in the face, thighs clenched.

“See the way her thighs clench together?” The Ganger coos, “Imagine the way they’d feel around your head as you—“

The Doctor chokes him, “You do not get to talk about her like that!”

“Why don’t we ask her?” The Ganger hisses out, looking at you, “You like this don’t you darling? Want his hands wrapped around your throat?” His eyes flicker down to your clenched thighs. You rub them together, nodding shyly.

The Doctor stares at you, “D-do you really want that?”

You nod, licking your lips.

He lets go of the Ganger’s throat and walks up to you.

The Doctor strokes his fingers over the column of your throat, watching your pupils dilate and a whimper escape your lips.

The Ganger pushes himself away from the wall and peers at you over the Doctor’s shoulder, “See how good of a girl she is?” He coos, “Why don’t you wrap your hands around her pretty little throat?”

You whimper at his words, the Doctor wraps a hand around your throat, and a breathy moan escapes your lips.

“Hear that? Such a needy little girl, just wants someone to take control and fuck her senseless, huh?”

You nod.

The Doctor’s breath hitches in his throat, his grip tightening on your own.

“See? She needs it, badly. Why don’t you give in for once? Take what you want.” The Ganger whispers into his ear.

You nod along with him, “Please Doctor.”

He swallows, looking into your eyes, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

You sigh against his mouth, reaching your hands up to go through his hair, only to be stopped when a pair of hands pin them above your head.

“Ooh, naughty girl, trying to touch without permission.” The Ganger tuts.

The Doctor breaks the kiss to look at him, “What should we do with her?”

The Ganger ponders something for a moment before a smirk graces his lips, “Spank her.”

The Doctor nods in agreement, letting go of your throat.

The Ganger lets go of your wrists, “Strip.”

You nod, unbuttoning your shorts, and pulling them down. You undo your shoes and pull them off so you can take your shorts off.

The Doctor licks his lips, “Top too.”

You hesitate, the Ganger doesn’t like that.

He stands in front of you and pulls your shirt up, revealing your bare breasts, “Oh? Going without a bra, in front of everyone? How naughty.” He pinches your left nipple, enjoying the yelp you let out, “Now take your panties off too.”

You take your shirt off and slide your underwear down your legs.

The Doctor stares at you, memorizing every inch of bare skin, beckoning you forward with a motion of his hand.

You step towards him, looking up at him through your lashes.

He takes hold of your throat again, pulling your body flush against his, the Ganger comes up from behind and grabs your ass.

You shudder.

“How many spanks should we give her, hmm?” The Ganger asks.

“Ten.” The Doctor answers.

“You heard him, sweetie, now count.” The Ganger smirks, before striking the first time.

“One.” You whimper.

His hands soothe your skin before he spanks you again.

“Two.”

You’re dripping wet by the time it stops.

The Ganger notices, sliding his hand through your folds, sucking the slick off of his fingers, “Divine.”

The Doctor looks at him, “Better than we thought?”

“Much.” The Doctor’s eyes darken, and his free hand slides between your thighs, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing lightly.

You suck in a deep breath.

The Ganger’s hands join in, stroking and caressing your thighs.

The Doctor’s grip tightens around your throat, kissing you roughly.

His thumb rubs harder and rougher against you, two of his fingers delving into your wetness.

You moan into his mouth, he pulls away to look into your eyes.

Your breathing picks up as his fingers thrust in and out.

His eyes bore into yours, bringing you to the edge of orgasm before he stops his movements.

You almost cry, he smirks at you.

The Ganger’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him as the Doctor tightens his grip.

Fingers rub at your clit, and a mouth goes onto your breast, nipping and sucking.

You can feel the coil tightening in your stomach again, you pray to whatever deity is out there to let you cum.

It doesn’t work, the hand pulls away again.

The hand at your throat disappears.

You watch the Doctor kneel in front of you and spread your legs apart, hiking your thighs over his shoulders before he looks up at you with a smirk, “You’re going to be a good girl and cum on my tongue, maybe then I’ll let you cum on my cock.”

With that, he buries his face into your cunt.

He sucks at your clit and thrusts his tongue into your sopping hole.

His fingers soon join his mouth, entering your hole slowly.

You gasp at the feeling.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of you, slowly at first, but speeding up to match with the movements of his tongue.

A coil of pleasure starts to tighten in the pit of your stomach, you pant loudly.

“Doctor!” You moan out, going to grab at his hair only for your arms to be restrained by the Ganger.

“What did I say about touching without permission?”

“I’m sorry, please let me touch!” You whimper.

Your hips buck against the Doctor’s face as you chase your orgasm.

“Hmm…” The Ganger thinks for a moment, “No.”

You whine, “I’m so close.”

“Oh, are you?”

You nod.

“Beg.”

“Doctor, please let me cum, I’ll be a good girl I promise! I need it so bad!” You nearly scream.

His ministrations speed up, and his eyes bore into yours.

“Then cum. Cum for us.” The Ganger orders, pinching your nipples.

You do, crying out as your walls tighten around the Doctors’ fingers, body writhing at the intensity.

The Doctors fingers fuck you through your orgasm, until you try and squirm away from him.

He stops, letting your legs drop from his shoulders, and standing up.

The Ganger lets go of your arms and you slump to the floor.

You get on your knees and a hand grips your face.

“We’re not done with you yet.” The Ganger smirks, undoing his pants with one hand.

You whimper, pressing your thighs together.

The Doctor pulls you up, already naked.

He spreads your thighs apart and hooks his arms under your knees.

His hard length is resting against your cunt.

The Ganger grabs his own length, pumping slowly as he walks up to you.

He shares a look with the Doctor, smirking.

The Doctor guides his cock to your hole, just the tip resting inside.

The Ganger presses his cock to your hole as well, and together they push inside.

You cry out, trying to escape their grasp only for the Ganger to wrap his hand around your throat.

“Such a tight cunt, it can barely fit both of us.” The Ganger bucks his hips slightly, causing you to let out a sob, “Does it hurt?”

You nod, tears brimming your eyes.

He pouts before smirking, grip tightening on your throat, “Too bad.”

The two bully their way into your pussy, until they both bottom out.

Tears escape your eyes at the intensity.

“Feel that?” The Ganger asks, caressing your lower stomach, where a bulge resides, “That’s us. We’re up in your tummy.” He presses down on your stomach, and you moan.

The Ganger’s hands slide down to your hips, gripping the flesh roughly, “Get ready, we’re about to ruin you for anyone else.”

And with that, the two begin to thrust in and out of your cunt.

The fullness feels so good, you almost start to drool.

The Doctor gets your attention by kissing you. His fingers intertwine with yours.

His thrusts are slower, more drawn out than the Ganger’s but just as desperate. He’s holding back, is it because he hopes this will happen again when the adventure ends? You hope the same.

A mouth latches onto your shoulder and bites down. You moan into the Doctor’s mouth, clenching around their cocks.

You can feel both of them shudder at the feeling.

The thrusting speeds up greatly.

“God, she feels so good.” The Ganger grunts, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The Doctor pulls away from your lips, “I think she’s close.”

The Ganger smirks, “Gonna cum, huh?”

You nod, whining, “Please.”

“Good, we’re gonna fill you with our cum. Put a baby in you, make you nice and round with our child.” The Doctor groans, his thrusts getting rougher.

You clench around them, moaning.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” The Ganger asks, “Getting a baby fucked into you?” His hand finds your clit, rubbing circles into it.

The Doctor’s rhythm falters slightly, you can tell he’s close.

Your moans increase in pitch as they slow their thrusting, shooting straight into your womb.

Your pussy spasms, walls clenching and unclenching as you reach your orgasm, eyes rolling back into your head.

“Good girl.” The Ganger groans, “Fuck! Taking all our cum like a good little girl.”

Their hips slow to a stop as your head lays on the Doctor’s shoulder.

The Doctor’s arms wrap around your waist as he and the Ganger pull out.

Your feet touch the ground, your legs like jelly. Your hands grab the Doctor’s shoulders.

One of his hands holds your head up and he looks at you, “You did wonderful, darling.” 

A mouth presses against your back, kissing the skin softly, “Such a good girl for us.”

#doctor who x reader #doctor who smut #eleventh doctor x reader #my writing

[rippersz]

The meat is cold.

«——..✞..——»

«——..✞..——»

(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader oneshot)

«——..✞..——»

“She eats the hearts first, before they go bad— as all hearts will.” ~ Jessica D. Thompson

«——..✞..——»

“Are you going to eat me?”

You’ve asked her before but you repeat yourself anyway.

Larissa blinks. Long and slow. Sizing you up. Running her blue eyes over the length of your arms and stretch of your legs. Something flickers there. You briefly wonder if she’s questioning how fast you can run. You briefly wonder if she’s salivating over the thought of catching you.

“I didn’t plan on it, but now that I look at you closely, I think you want me to.”

You swallow.

She’s wrong, of course. She’s wrong. It’s just her own delusions. She thinks and perceives what she wants to think and perceive. Truth does not matter to a liar. The sweat on your palms says it all.

“I don’t.” Your voice is firm, but somehow it doesn’t feel like enough. Somehow it feels like-

“I don’t believe you.”

-like she won’t believe you.

“Why not?”

A weird heated pleasure fills you at the sight of her smirk. Red, curling, slight, full of undeniable mirth. She really does find you funny. She really does enjoy your time together; you’ve never doubted that.

But you should. You really should. You don’t want to be one of the sheep. You don’t want to play with the facade and finally accept her for what she is on the surface. You don’t want to know her as the school principal. You don’t want to die.

“Because you’re still here. And the door is unlocked.”

Yes. You knew that. She rarely locked it. Mainly because that wouldn’t be very professional, but also because she wanted to give others the option of leaving. Anxious or angry students, tired staff members, pleased parents… they could leave whenever they wished. You could leave whenever you wished. You could leave right now.

Then why aren’t you moving?

“Who is this?” You sniff, looking down at the plate in front of you, desperately trying to grasp for some control.

You agreed on dinner at some point. She took you up on it by surprise earlier that morning. The food, she said, was on her. The meal, cooked to perfection thanks to her skills, was supposed to be delicious. To anyone else, it would be. They’d have been nearly finished by now, praising her to the heavens and letting out little noises of appreciation. But you know what she is. And you know that you’ve never really been interested in eating people before.

“I don’t see why that matters,” is the smooth response you get - quickly followed by the clink of silverware and the cut of meat and the gentle hum of a woman satisfied. You can’t bring yourself to look up.

“…Did they deserve it?” You’re not sure of what else to ask - you just know that you don’t want to leave. You would never admit that out loud, never willingly, but it’s the truth. You are the killer’s favorite. You are safe. You are better than them.

“Doesn’t everyone deserve it at some point or another?” Her voice is light and airy- twinkling with a complete lack of care.

“No,” is your immediate sharp response. It sort of slips off of your tongue by accident, but when you look up to gauge her reaction, you’re surprised to see not even a hint of shock or anger. Instead, all that paints her eyes is intense recognition. Like she knew you’d say that. Like she knew you were a morally correct hero hiding a dark heart.

“No?” Her fork spears a piece of meat. ‘Sirloin,’ she��d said when you first sat down. Yeah, right. “Why do you say that?”

You fix her with a look. A very obvious look. A look with a tilt of your head. One that says ‘You and I aren’t the same Larissa, but you know exactly what I mean.’ One that says ‘Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.’ One that says, secretly, ‘I don’t know. I just know that I’ve been told no good soul deserves death.’

Your mouth, on the other hand, says “Just because we all end up dying doesn’t mean we all deserve it. There are some amazing people out there that would have made the world better if they were still around.”

She seems to think over your serious response, rolling it around within her vast mind. While she formulates a suitable reply, her lips move with each chew of her steak - you try hard not to focus on that. When it comes to killers, good ones at least, there’s always that thing said about them: they’re charming; handsome or pretty; they’re alluring in a way that no “normal human” could be. Larissa Weems has never been the exception. She is no different. It can be disturbingly easy to get lost in the other things she has to offer. Like her beauty. Or her intelligence. Or the way her eye contact makes you feel like the most important, most recognizable, most wonderful thing in the entire world. You’d compare her to a drug but she is something worse than that. She is an aura. A feeling. She is something entirely different. You think it’s partly due to her outcast status. She’s not a ‘fur’ or a ‘fang’ or a ‘scale’ or a ‘stoner’. She’s not just regularly odd or eccentric. She’s not even mythical.

And yet?

And yet.

The very atoms in her body, the skin across her bones and veins and muscles, the makeup of her organs, can shift shape. Can adjust. The image is crafted in her mind and suddenly is mirrored onto her body. You’d never seen it in person, up close, but you know it’s true. You know it’s a wondrous thing to see. You know some sick desperate hungry part of you twists with the desire to watch her body become something entirely different. You know you want to see her in her element.

Whether it’s bloody or not.

“You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain… I think that sums it up perfectly. The longer a person stays in good health, the more bitter they become. No one truly wants to live forever, Y/n. You know this…,” Larissa pauses, taking a moment to slip her long fingers under and around the belly of her wine glass so she can take a sip. You watch as her throat moves with a swallow. “…And those who go against nature and insist that they do want to live forever, that they’ll somehow find the world to be better as the years go on, well…,” blue eyes suddenly move to you, slicing into your gaze. “They’re liars, of course.”

Of course.

Liars. Of course.

You know it’s the truth.

You hate when she’s right.

You hate when she knows she’s right. There’s that playful little sign in her eyes, glowing with satisfaction, glowing like the cat who captured the mouse.

“I hate you.” It’s a small whisper. A little defeat. Another start to the same cycle. You indulge her, you meet with her, you keep her secret, you dip into your own psyche and pull out your weird fascination with her mind. You go at it until you find yourself becoming tired of thinking so much. Then you tell her you hate her. Or you yell at her. Or you storm out or slam the door or just fall silent and allow for the excitement to pitter out into nothing. But eventually, every time, at some point, you let it die.

Only to revive it again. Only to get lost, once more, in her beauty and allure. Her stupidly literal killer charm. Her strange instinctive ability to easily slip out of trouble and cover her tracks. Not that there were many tracks to cover in the first place. She’s very very good. Worryingly good. No one suspects a thing.

You could fix that, though.

You could put an end to her reign of terror.

You could say one word, provide one sample of one of her dinners, drop a hint or two, and she’d be placed behind bars faster than you could blink.

You could save so many people.

You can save so many people.

You can snatch up a piece of the cold meat on your plate, walk right out of her office, and race down to the Nevermore van. You can do it. You’re not terribly fast but adrenaline pushes the human limit. And though you’re not human- seeing as you can control fire- you’re not too keen on burning her alive. Such an act would probably result in Nevermore’s demise as well - and that would break your heart.

Would Larissa’s death break your heart?

You look up from your hands and study her face. There’s a sudden tiredness there. It’s small, minuscule, but the lines in her skin look deeper and the weariness in her gaze looks shinier and the mask, you realize, has slipped. She’s frowning- not a lot but just enough. And she’s not looking at you. Well, she is, but not into your eyes like she usually does. No, no, she’s staring at… at your chest. At your heart. You’re sure she doesn’t have X-ray vision but some part of you wonders if that’s what she’s trying so hard to see. Your pumping life. Your beating force. If it expands and contracts for her and her only… or if it breathes to destroy her. If any of her interest, her fascination, even matters in the first place. She’s never told you why you’re so special; so important; so cherished, but that doesn’t deter her from her advances. From her fluttered lashes or easy smiles or husky laughs or occasional indulging conversation. It’s not seduction at its finest, but stalking at its lowest. Like she’s watching you through the underbrush and you know she’s there and she knows that you know she’s there and you both stand still because maybe, by some miracle, if you don’t move, you can enjoy the silent attention of each other for just a little longer. Because you can’t help but think that maybe if she were more normal and more caring and didn’t enjoy the taste of long pork over the taste of regular pork, you’d be able to somehow fall in love with her. Start a life with her. And not have to worry about her waking up one day and deciding that she wants to prepare and plate your kidneys for supper.

Would Larissa’s death break your heart?

You hear her clear her throat. You watch as she takes another sip of wine. You see her hand shake. You see the appetite she once had perish on her tongue.

“I hate you,” you’d said.

Did you mean it?

Will you ever mean it?

Why are you doing this to yourself?

Why do you love her?

Why does she not see it?

“I know,” is Larissa’s final response. Something dies behind her eyes. “I know.”

And the cycle continues.

«——..✞..——»

A swift dive into some stranger fic topics. I figure if Larissa were to be a ‘baddie’, she’d be a cannibal. I may make this part of a little series of scenarios. Hope you’re all doing well. - Rip x

«——..✞..——»

#dead dove #dead dove oneshot #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #larissa weems #fanfictionwriter #rippersz #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #oneshot #psychological horror #cannibals??? #Larissa Weems how could you #I love her don’t tell her I said that #darkfic #dark fic #cannibal larissa weems

[aaronhotchnersworld]

Forever and Always

Aaron Hotchner x bau wife reader

summary: Aaron helps reader during a rough case

——

“the unsub killed 4 teenage girls and has been dumping them at random locations so-” Derek began to say before being cut off by Aaron’s phone ringing.

A few seconds go by before Aaron speak, “they found another body, teenage girl. let’s go.”

We’ve been here, in florida, for two weeks attempting to catch this unsub. The unsub had been kidnapping teenage girls, killing them and dumping their bodies in random areas. It’s been extremely draining, especially for you.

Everyone is stressed, you and Aaron had a disagreement about the case yesterday which ended in an argument and now you aren’t even speaking to each other.

You normally ride in the suv with Aaron, but you decided to ride in the other one.

You hop in an SUV with Spencer, David, and JJ. You sit in the back and lean your head against the window.

“you okay y/n?” JJ asks you.

“yeah i’m just- this unsub is killing these poor girls so brutally and Aaron and I aren’t even speaking,” you sigh.

“I know it’s tough. Aaron is just frustrated, we all are. I’m sure you guys will be okay once we finish this case.”

“yeah you’re right this is just so hard.”

“I know, i’m sorry. let me know if you need anything y/n,” she says softly.

“thank you JJ.”

“of course y/n.”

As you all pull into the parking lot of the next crime scene, the florida weather seemed to be picking up resulting in the body of the teenage girl smelling horrible.

Aaron and David walk over towards the sheriff, Spencer and JJ walk into the abandoned building towards the body to look for any clues, while Derek and Emily begin searching around the building for anything, which just leaves you.

You decide to walk inside the old abandoned building, following Spencer and JJ but a police officer comes up to you and begins talking.

She behinds spitting out facts about the poor teenage girl, her age, her features, how she was killed.

The anxious feeling continued to rise as she spoke.

You went over to the body after she was done speaking. As you looked at the poor teenage girl, it all became too much and you felt like you were going to throw up and you couldn’t breathe.

You turn around and exit the building, the summer heat only making you feel worse.

You walk to the back of the building and feel slightly relieved that no one else is back here.

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you try your best to breathe but you can’t.

You can feel yourself begin to shake and you can’t control it. You feel a hand on your back which makes you jump.

“it’s okay it’s just me.”

Aaron.

“I- I can’t- br- breath.”

He grabs your hand softly and guides you towards the bench, making you sit down.

He kneels down in front of you.

“look at me sweetheart.”

You do as he says.

“what- what’s happ- happening,” you choke out.

“you’re having a panic attack, it’s okay you’re okay. follow my breathing,” he tells you softly as he strokes your hand.

“Aaron- I- I can’t.”

“yes you can. I know you can. Deep breath in and deep breath out. I’ll do it with you okay?”

You just nod your head, unable to make a full sentence.

“that’s good, you’re doing so good y/n,” he says as he stands up and sits next to you.

“what’s going on y/n?”

You ignore his question and say something else, “i’m sorry I snapped at you yesterday, I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes again and Aaron wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a hug.

He rubs your back softly, “it’s okay. I could tell this case is taking a toll on you, i’m not mad at you.”

You don’t pull away from his embrace, wanting it to last forever.

“what’s going on y/n?”

“I’ve been useless this entire case. I can’t do anything right and I yelled at you last night and these poor girls are getting killed and I can’t even help find the guy who’s doing it,” you choke out.

“That is so far from the truth y/n. You are not useless, none of us have found anything big yet. Listen to me sweetheart, we’re all having a hard time with this case but I can tell you are having the hardest time. I notice how you’ve been tossing and turning at night, unable to fall asleep. I think you just need to get some rest and stop being so hard on yourself. You have done nothing wrong and you have never been useless,” he says softly.

“I love you Aaron.”

“I love you y/n,” he says as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Are you ready to go back yet sweetheart?”

You let out a sigh, “can we just stay here for a little longer please?”

“of course we can,” he says softly as he continues to rub your back.

You both sit in silence before you decide to speak.

“How did you know I was back here Aar?”

“I saw you walk out the front, I could tell something was wrong by the look on your face. I called your name but you didn’t hear me.”

“I didn’t think anyone saw me,” you say honestly.

“David and I both saw, after I called your name and you didn’t answer, I told him I was coming to check on you.”

“Thank you Aaron.”

“i’ll always be here for you honey.”

You give him a kiss on the lips.

“Are you ready to go back yet?”

“I think so,” you say softly.

You both stand up and make your way back to the front of the building. The team had just finished up and were ready to go back to the police station.

——

It was around midnight and you were all just arriving at the hotel for the night, once again, no where further in the case.

Aaron told everyone to meet back up in the lobby at 10am.

As you and Aaron enter your hotel room, you feel even worse then you did this morning and you know Aaron notices.

“let’s get ready for bed sweetheart.”

You just nod and you both make your way to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna take a shower, do you wanna get one too honey?”

“yes”

He undresses himself and you do the same, both entering the shower.

You both are done within 20 minutes, Aaron’s exits first and grabs himself and you a towel.

He leaves the bathroom to grab his clothes and walks back in with his pajamas on. He had grabbed your pajamas for you, a pair of underwear, pajama shorts and one of his t-shirts.

You give him a smile as he hands them to you.

Aaron begins brushing his teeth while you change and you join soon after.

After you both are finished, you exit the bathroom and you make your way to your bag, grabbing your brush and brushing your hair.

Aaron sits on the end of the bed and pats the spot next to him, “come here sweetheart, let’s talk.”

You let out a sigh and walk over to sit next to Aaron.

“please talk to me y/n/n”

“It’s just all too much sometimes. These poor girls are being murdered for no reason and we can’t find the guy. I don’t understand how people can be so evil,” you say softly as tears well up in your eyes.

He rubs your thigh softly before speaking, “I understand. We’re going to find the person responsible for this, I promise. There will always be bad people in this world but there will also always be good people in this world, good people like you and our team. I want you to come to me when it becomes too hard, please don’t hold it in, it only makes it worse.”

You look up into his eyes, not even knowing what to say.

“it’s okay to cry y/n,” he says softly and that’s all it takes.

Aaron wraps his arms around you as you begin sobbing.

“it’s okay I got you”

“I love you”

“I’ll protect you”

“shhh it’s okay”

These are all things he whispers to you as you sob in his arms.

After your crying subsides, Aaron speaks again, “i’ll always be here for you y/n, no matter what.”

“I love you Aar.”

“I love you,” he says as he kisses your head.

“Why don’t we try and get some rest?”

You both stand up and lay under the covers, your head on Aaron’s chest and his arms wrapped around you.

“get some sleep y/n,” he whispers to you as he rubs your back.

You fall asleep moments later in the loving hands of your husband, Aaron.

#criminal minds #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner comfort #aaron hotchner x bau!reader

[lu-vin-it]

Miles morales x emo!reader?? 🙏🏻

(Actual emo girls are so fine)

Also it would be cool if you made her a spiderwoman :3

If you dk what to make it about maybe just his reactions on her? Like for being both emo and spiderman HELP IDK

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Bullets: 26 + lots of dialogue

Pronouns Used: None mentioned

Pairings: Miles Morales x Reader

A/N: Thanks to @spnczr @lemkay-luminary @yesland and @stqrluvr for proofreading, ilyg!! (i sent it to the gc LMAO)

Also, if I was requested to, I’d do a part 2… js saying

I’m thinking you hang out with Hobie a lot in the HQ

Not so much Peter B Parker, Patvir, or even really Gwen unless you’re both crashing at Hobie’s at the same tome

You’re kinda introverted so you prefer only really talking to Hobie

AND Margo cause I love her and I think you’d spend a lot of time in the control room with her

Dont come after me if its not called the control room i watched it a week ago 👊💥

Anyways!!

I also think you are quick with your comebacks like most spider people buut i think you’re slightly diff

You’re kinda just straight up mean/scary

I’ll just show you what i mean

“Hey Y/N! What’s up?”

“Come near me and I’ll rip your skin to pieces.”

You’re just very vulgar? I guess?

So when Miles first meets you, he does his cute little word stumble and kinda doesn’t know how to approach you.. but still tries.

You could sense him coming. You decided not to run from this one, to just let it happen.

“Hi Y/N! I’m Miles. Spiderman.” You turn around with a grim look on your face.

“We’re all spidermen you imbecile. Look around.” He sinks a bit.

“I love your suit! How’d you make it?”

“Stole pieces from other spidermen. Can you fuck off now or what?” Suddenly Gwen runs up and grabs Miles.

“Miles come on! We have to go! We can’t keep Miguel waiting!”

That’s when it kicks in who that is talking to you.

That’s the Miles Morales from Earth 1610..

The one who seemed to be legend throughout the spiderverse due to his origin.

Gwen’s best friend.

Wow.. he was.. fine. very fine.

It was during the chase that you decided who’s side you were on.

You turned invisible, one of the many powers you had, and followed Miles closely during everything, even watching what earth he was going to with great caution. When you realized it was Earth 42, you freaked out and immediately followed him.

You found him quickly.

“Y/N!” His voice breaks and he immediately clears it. “I mean— Y/N? What are you doing here?” He said in a faux deep voice.

“You’re not in the right earth. We need to leave.” You grab his arm and he shakes you off.

“How do I know you’re not gonna just take me right back to hq? That you aren’t working with Miguel?” He crosses his arms.

“Do I look like I’m working for Miguel? Come on. Let’s go to Hobie’s earth, please. For you’re own good, trust me.”

“I’ve done enough trusting.”

So he doesn’t believe you and you just pretend to leave, instead you turn invisible and follow him.

Discovering that Miles had an evil doppelgänger was not what you expected to find, that was for sure.

You couldn’t decide who was more handsome, the evil Miles or the good Miles.

As for the next bit, we don’t know what happens so we’re going to leave that up to the imagination for now.

After everything was said and done, you decided to show up in Miles’ earth, unannounced.

The feelings you had for Miles had been festering, and you were tired of them.

So you got dressed in a nice outfit, and went to his world, knocking on his front door with a smile.

A kind woman wearing a braid answered, she was sort of startled by your appearance.

“Oh, uh, hello. Can I help you?”

“Hi, Mrs. Morales?” She nods slowly. “I’m Y/N. Miles and I were supposed to meet up but I broke my phone so I figured I’d just.. come here and we could leave together?” She blinks.

“Well, I will grab him, come on in.” She opens the door and lets you in all the way. She walks off to the hallway, and as she disappears a man walks in. He jumps at your presence.

“Holy jesus you are startling.” You smile and tilt your head.

“Mr. Morales? I’m Y/N. I’m a friend of Miles.” He nods slowly.

“Okay.. Miles is gr—“

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Miles says from across the room, he’s walking in with his Mom behind him.

“We were going to hang out today, remember? I’m sorry— I broke my phone.” He raises his eyebrows but nods while laughing.

“Oh yeah! But you see I’m actually g—“

“Going to grab his coat.” Mrs. Morales says, putting her arm around Miles’ neck. “Then you can leave.” Miles smiles at his Mom and then runs to grab his jacket. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“It was nice to meet you too! Such a pleasure to meet the people Miles talks so highly of.”

“He talks highly of us?” His Dad asks. You nod.

“Like you hung the moon.”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #into the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman x reader

[thetriplets3]

Could you do one about matt, where the reader has migraines and matt does everything he can to help her, lots of physical touch, words of affirmation etc

Ilysm and your writing ur amazing<3

as someone who’s had migraines and headaches every single day for 4 years I loved writing this. i hope you’re doing well feel free to message me if you ever need to talk, i know how difficult this can be. sending my love to you

꩜ migraine ꩜

Waking up in excruciating pain has become my new normal. From the moment my eyes open I’m greeted by the familiar feeling of a migraine. The dull pressure around my head makes it feel like it’ll burst at any given moment.

Rubbing my eyes, I sharply inhale as a sharp jolt enters my temple and eye making it feel as if a nail has been driven into my head. Pulling the blanket over my head I groan. This isn’t how I expected today to go. You and I were supposed to spend the day in the city. Aimlessly reaching for my phone I turn Siri on and instruct her to send you a text.

“Hey Siri, send Matt a text” I grumble.

“What do you want to say?” Siri's voice irritates me more.

“Hi love, would we be able to do today’s plans another day? I woke up with a migraine again. I'm not doing well, it's taking a toll on me and I don’t wanna be a drag on our date. I’m really sorry I feel so bad. I know how busy you’ve been and how excited you were for this and I’ve ruined that. I'm sorry. If you aren’t busy maybe we can call later? I miss you and I love you” I tiredly mumbled to Siri to type out for me.

Putting my phone fast down on my nightstand, I bury my face into my pillow and pull the blankets up to my chin and try to sleep the pain away. I only slept for probably an hour until I breathed in a familiar scent. I slowly open my eyes to see you laying beside me. I waste no time burying my face into your chest and wrapping my arms around you.

“I'm so glad you're here” I mutter.

“I figured you'd either need or want some help since you aren't feeling good and I missed you” you whisper, making sure not to worsen my headache. “Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“I need my heated eye mask and my meds please, you know where they are right?” I ask.

“I'll go get them, I'll be quick” you softly say as you plant a kiss on my forehead.

Staying true to your words you’re back in a few minutes with my nice and hot eye mask and some meds to hopefully ease the pain.

Putting the warm mask over my eyes I get comfy, resting my head on your chest as one arm wraps around my waist and the other massaging my scalp, easing the building tension in my head.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that? It’s difficult being in pain let alone constantly and this badly but here you are still fighting. I know it’s draining and takes a mental toll on you but you’re doing so good. I wish I could take your pain for you. You amaze me with your strength” you praise me.

“Thank you for coming over. I’m sorry for ruining our plans not just today but every other time I end up having to cancel. I feel bad about it. I don’t want you to think that I don’t wanna spend time with you because that’s really all I want is to be with you” I whisper.

“Anytime sweet girl I’ll always be here for you no matter what. Don’t apologize, remember we don’t worry about things that are outside of our control. You can’t control when you get a migraine so don’t feel bad for canceling. Plus when you have a migraine it means that I get to come over and take care of you which I love. You could never ruin anything, simply being with you is enough for me. I love you sweet girl, now get some rest I’m here” you tell me, soothingly massaging my scalp.

Your gentle voice, the head massage, the eye mask, and the meds is the perfect concoction to make me doze off into a much needed sleep in the arms of my favorite person. Migraines aren’t so bad when I have you by my side.

taglist:

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0 @iluvmatt @stxrniqlo @antisocialties @fake-coolbeans

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #readers pov

[its-time-to-write]

ch. 2 - hustling for the good life

table of contents only reason I had the courage to post this is bc I saw another post that was like “bby you can write whatever you want.” so I did.

dancing is a dangerous game

Natalie comes back with these fluffy silver slides. They’re ridiculously comfortable and you’re not sure how she managed to find them so quick, but hey, that’s Nat for you. Her mantra is, “Comfort first.”

“You have to wear them with me,” she commands. “It’s in my contract. Plus, they go with your dress.”

You scrunch your face at her. “No it is not. I’m wearing my heels. There’s no way you’re getting me in public with those on my feet, much less a party with a bunch of famous people.”

—

“Ohmigod, I fucking love your shoes,” says Keeley Jones an hour later. 

Natalie smiles and points her toe. “Thanks!” she replies, “Had to convince this one that it would be fun. And thanks for getting us the invite, Keeley. Means a lot.”

Keeley shrugs. “Not a problem, babes. I’ve known Stella for a bit, and she hosts the best parties. Her boyfriend’s around here somewhere, and he always invites a bunch of his football friends. They’re pretty hot,” she says as she shoots you a pointed look. “Perfect for getting over a recent breakup?” she says pointedly.

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not really looking for anything right now,” you admit.

“Or ever,” Natalie coughs.

“Fine,” you concede. “Or ever. I don’t really have time for another relationship between Mango and getting ready for the Blue Glass tour. Too much work.”

Keeley nods and says, “Ah. Last relationship was PR, was it?”

“Try last three,” you sigh. “But don’t tell anyone. They were trying to put out the rumor that I was getting engaged, but I don’t think that I could play with someone’s life like that. It’s just too hard. If I were to date again, I’d want it to be real. And private. But…” you shrug. “I’m me. I’ve had to fight tooth and nail for every ounce of privacy I currently have.”

Keeley shakes her head. “Well babe, they say there’s someone for everyone but for now, enjoy the single life! Go get a drink then meet me on the dance floor, yeah? My boyfriend isn’t here because he’s an old grump, but I promised him I’d have enough fun for the both of us.”

She talks about her boyfriend so affectionately that is stirs something in your chest. You think Keeley Jones must have the rare luxury of real love, and you wonder what that must be like.

“Come on don’t get all morose on me now, we’re getting smashed,” Natalie says as she drags you to the bar. You raise an eyebrow. “Ok, alright, I’m getting smashed,” she amends. “Keeley swore up and down the walls that this party isn’t going to end up on the internet, and I’m going to take full advantage of that.” 

You roll your eyes as Natalie herds you to an in-home bar and pushes her way through tall, muscly men. You admire her faith in Keeley, but you know that you can never be completely in control.

“Do you make espresso martinis?” she shouts above the din. The man behind the counter nods as you give her a strange look. “What?” she asks, “Don’t act like coffee and booze aren’t the best combo since peanut butter and jelly.”

She takes her drink and says, “We should go find Isaac and Stella so you can thank them for having you. You know, meet the hosts and everything.” 

“Alright,” you say, “but then we’re dancing the night away. Don’t need to be buzzed to have a good time.”

“But it’s better if you are,” she replies as she grabs your hand once more, weaving through what you assume are famous footballers, actors, and models. You wave to a couple people you know as she ducks under arms, effortlessly taking sips of her martini. 

Natalie stops in front of two people you’re pretty sure you’ve never met before, and you’re having trouble placing their faces.

She nudges you as she says, “Isaac, Stella, pretty sure you already know who this one is.”

They smile, and Stella leans forward to kiss the air beside each of your cheeks, which are a little flushed from Natalie’s presumption. You introduce yourself anyway, because you’re not going to assume people know who you are, for goodness’ sake. 

“Can’t believe you’re here,” Isaac says. “Fucking mental, you’ve been top of the charts for months now.”

Stella nods in agreement. “Me and the girls have been listening to Mango ever since it came out. I mean come on, Patch is absolutely gorgeous.” She catches your squirm of discomfort and continues, “But you must be tired of talking about all that. Don’t worry, darling, you can dance all your cares away. Everyone here is somebody, so no one cares who you are.”

You give her a small smile, grateful for her perception. “I’ll keep that in mind you say. Oh shit, is that Margaret? I’m going to go say hey. Haven’t seen her in forever.”

You excuse yourself to the other side of the room to grill Margaret about her relationship.

—

The night is sliding by at a glorious pace as you catch glimpses of Natalie flitting back and forth, making new friends and connections that she’s sure to use to your advantage later. 

You’ve passed a pleasant hour dancing with Keeley and Margaret but you get tired of it without the buzz of alcohol in your veins. You decide to slip into a corner and observe, relishing the sheer disinterest that people have you. You’re pretty sure you see a Beckham walk by, as well as an actress with a blockbuster summer movie.

Andrew would’ve loved this, you think and you allow yourself to indulge in a memory of your staged romance with the guitarist.

Andrew used to take you dancing. He’d pull you onto the dance floor and put his hands on your hips to help you move in time with the music. He was the kind of person where a touch never felt threatening, and it was actually enjoyable the way he’d slide a hand down your arm to sway you with the music. He’s the reason you can move as well as you do and can actually enjoy yourself without feeling self-conscious. 

You think of the song you wrote together, Ice, and how you thought your friendship with him might be the closest thing you ever had to love. Maybe you had just conflated admiration with adoration, but if he decided he had real feelings for you, you think you could have made it work.

But he had his own albums to promote, so your breakup was timed to bring in the most hits. You missed him, but still talked every now and then.

You silently thank Natalie for pressuring you into wearing those goddamn slippers because yeah, they’ve been getting comments, but as people get drunker, they stop caring about what other people look like and more about their own comfort.

You can catch bits and pieces of conversation, familiar voices mixing with the unfamiliar, and it’s soothing for a moment until it’s not. 

Without warning, the room is too hot and too stifling, and your skin is tight on your body and you can hear your heart pounding louder than the bass of the music. 

Fuck.

You look around for an exit, maybe a door to the backyard or something where you can panic unnoticed. You push your way to the kitchen and see a sliding door. It’s open and inviting, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s outside so you take a step into the cool night air.

There’s a pool, so you take off the slippers, bunch your dress up to your knees, and dip your feet in.

The shock of the water combined with fresh air begins to slow your breathing and you take a moment to appreciate the relative peace, when a voice breaks the spell.

“Too crowded, innit?” says someone in an accent that’s definitely British, but not in a way that you can place. 

You turn to see someone sitting on one of the recliners. You must have missed him when you first came out.

“Nice shoes,” he says, getting up.

Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, you silently will him because anyone closer than three feet feels like choking.

He might be telekinetic because he sits three and a half feet away, trousers rolled up.

“Had the same idea,” he continues. “Isaac throws a mad party, but it gets all crowded and shit. And anyway, I still got training tomorrow. Or maybe it’s today.” He frowns. “Got no idea what time it is.”

You note that he seems to be personal friends with Isaac and that he mentioned training, so he must be a footballer. 

He also seems to be perfectly content to fill the silence without your help.

“I’m Jamie, by the way,” he says. “You’re American, ain’t ya? Heard there were a whole bunch of you coming. None of you appreciate good football.” He shakes his head in mock sadness. “Bet you don’t even know who I am, do you?”

You tilt your head to better assess his face in the darkness. You think he might be familiar, but maybe he just has one of those faces.

Jamie obliges your perusal by moving his head to better catch the light. “Don’t matter, love. Stay in Richmond long enough and you’ll see this sexy face all over.”

He studies your face for a moment. “You’re a musician, right? That new one with the album about the fruit.”

You chuckle and say, “I’d hardly say I’m new. That was technically my third album if you don’t count the singles. Did one called Rotary Phone first, but people didn’t pay much attention till the first single on Blue Glass. Turned out pretty good, too. But yeah, my new album has a fruit on it. Not really about mangoes, but…” You trail off. Those are the most words you’ve said to a stranger in a long time but Jamie doesn’t notice.

“Right, yeah, ok,” he says, “I remember your name.”

He pauses before saying it into the night.

You almost shiver.

You’ve never quite heard your name like that before.

It’s a little distorted with his accent, but the way he says it it’s almost- familiar. Like the way a close friend would say it. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you reply quietly. “Big star, or something.”

Jamie nods. “Hm. Oi, you’re best mates with Taylor Swift!”

That makes you laugh. 

“Nah, I’m really not. People just think that because we both play guitar.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s disagreeing with you.

“You have to be good friends. I mean she basically co-wrote half of Blue Glass!”

“Tay was just featured in Creekside. She’s not listed anywhere else.”

“C’mon. Allie Gooding? The bird you have as one of your co-writers? You expect me to believe that’s not Taylor Swift?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Jamie gives you a look. “Allie? Alison? Taylor Alison Swift? It ain’t hard to figure out.”

You scoff as you tell him that he’s reaching. “You sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist.”

Jamie’s still looking at you like he doesn’t believe you, but he changes the subject. “What’s your favorite song you’ve written?”

“Margarita,” you reply without hesitation. “No contest.”

Margarita was on Rotary Phone and is more of a deep cut, but Jamie seems to know it because he nods in approval. 

“Mine’s Tiny,” he says. “I like that the words are about his heart but it’s really about his dick.”

You smile. Tiny was really fun to write. “Wait, hang on, how do you know so much about my music? You were acting like you’d barely heard of me.”

Jamie grins. “Didn’t want to freak you out, did I? A pretty girl’s a pretty girl, no matter the fame.”

You laugh at that and he joins in for a moment before becoming serious.

“Oi, but really, are you alright? Saw you come out here with your hand pressed to your chest, like.”

You take a shallow breath before answering with as much sparkle as you can muster.

“Oh yeah, totally. All good.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow and you raise one right back, but he isn’t backing down.

“I won’t press you, but I know what anxiety looks like. Gaffer- er, coach has it pretty bad.”

You’re saved from responding by Natalie staggering outside with Keeley on one arm. 

“There you are!” she shouts. “Been looking everywhere for you. See that one?” she asks Keeley, pointing in an exaggerated fashion. “That’s my best friend. My famous, gorgeous, single, bestie.” She notices Jamie and smiles. “You want to date her? She could use a boyfriend and maybe a couple laughs.”

You frown as you get up to rescue Keeley from drunk Nat. 

“No, I couldn’t. I’m good. And you should probably get home, young lady.”

That just makes Nat and Keeley giggle. “What is she, your mum?” Keeley gasps.

Jamie gets up too and makes his way toward Keeley. “Oi, Keels, better get you home safe so granddad doesn’t have a fit.”

She peers at his face before patting it and saying, “Jamie? When’d you get here? You trying to get with this one?”

“Nah,” Jamie says, “she wouldn’t be interested in someone like me anyway. Now come on, love, I’ll drive you home.”

He disappears inside with Keeley wobbling on his arm, loudly saying something about how he needs to be nicer to himself.

You sigh and reach for your phone to call the car.

table of contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[kitseldust]

Wings and Dust

OKAY so this is the first completed snzfic i've ever written. The guys in the story - my oc's - are called Niko and Nessie (i will post them more) and i cant stop thinking abt them at all like. im obsessed

NSFW STORY BTW. LIKE PENISES INVOLVED

TW: MENTIONS OF SA BUT IT DOESNT ACTUALLY HAPPEN

MINORS FUCK OFF

⁂—

“Here darl, I’ll buy you another drink” The man winked, moving away from the table to approach the bar. Nessie stretched out, a smile on his face. He loved when people bought him drinks: a perfect way for fans to show their appreciation. He watched as the guy slowly walked back with their drinks when he felt someone grab his arm. He looked around suddenly to see none other than Niko signalling for him to move. Nessie complied.

“Niko, what the fuck? I was scoring a free drink!”

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” Niko said, dragging Nessie down a back corridor. Nessie noticed his wings were pressed flat against his head, something Nessie had learned to be an indicator of anxiety. Something was wrong.

“What does that even mean?” Nessie asked, pulling his hand free from Niko’s grip.

“That guy you were talking to. He put something in your drink.” Niko explained, grabbing Nessie’s shoulders and turning the white-haired man to look at him.

“Like what?” Nessie questioned as Niko removed his hands and kept walking. Nessie ran a bit to catch up. “A flavour enhancer? I don’t get it.”

“I admire how even though you’ve been through the worst, you can keep some sense on naivety. He put a drug in your drink.”

“Aren’t drugs meant to be fun?”

“Not this one, Ness. This type of drug makes you fall asleep. With your sleeping body he probably would’ve tried to rape you.”

“WHAT!?” Nessie shouted loud enough for Niko to flinch.

“The world out here isn’t sunshine and rainbows, Ness.”

“Wait…so that’s why Navia asks me to watch her drink? You’re telling me this is common?”

“Sadly so. We need to leave so he doesn’t find yo-“ Niko began, when he was interrupted by a loud shout.

“NESSIE! Where are you? I got your drink!”

Niko clapped a hand to his mouth, pulling Nessie through the nearest doorway into an old janitor’s closet.

“Shit. This is not good. I thought he’d just leave it.” Niko whispered as he attempted to make himself comfortable in the cramped space. He sat himself down on what he assumed was a bucket, brushing a layer of dust off of it before moving Nessie onto his lap so they could both sit. The space was so small that even though both men were facing each other, both of their backs could hit the wall. Nessie clung onto Niko, who was listening for any more noise. Nessie’s nose twitched, trying to ignore the itch that had begun to prickle.

“Ugh, that slut!” An agitated voice growled, scarily close to their closet. Niko heard the sound of smashing glass-he presumed the guy had thrown it against the wall. “Did you see him anywhere?” The voice continued, aimed at someone else who had entered the corridor.

“I’m sure I saw your white boy run off with someone else.”

“And where did they go!?”

“Down here somewhere…” The other voice replied. Nessie registered they were still talking about something or other, but the itch in his nose was beginning to become unbearable.

“Fuck…” He murmured into Niko’s ear, curling his head into his roommate’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Niko whispered quietly.

“hh.. It’s so… hih… so dusty in hhere…” Nessie explained, unable to control the hitching of his breath.

“Shit shit shit…” Nessie heard Niko breathe. “They’re literally right outside the door.”

“I fuhhh.hih..fucking know!” Nessie whisper-shouted.

“Can you hold it back?” Niko asked, moving his hand to grip Nessie’s hair.

“I don’t know…”

Niko sighed. "Just try, okay?" He felt Nessie nod his head against his shoulder.

And then he felt Nessie's head bob. Once, twice, 3 times...

"ngt! h'ngt! kt!"

He curled his hand into him even harder, pushing the white-haired man further into his shoulder. Fuck. He knew that once Nessie started, he wouldn't be able to stop. This was not good.

Nessie removed his head from Niko's shoulder and looked up at the winged man. "Sorry..." He whispered.

"Don't worry. I know you can't help it." Niko breathed. He hoped Nessie wouldn't notice the growing bulge in his pants. He felt Nessie smile (granted, he couldn't see anything, but it was an educated guess) as he guided the younger man's head back onto his shoulder, stroking his hair as he heard Nessie trying to regulate his breathing. Probably trying to stave off another sneezing fit. Niko heard scuffling behind the door, footsteps getting eerily close to the closet.

“Well, your lead was a dead end, huh?” The voice from earlier jeered, leaning against the closet door with a thump!

“I could’ve sworn they went this way!” The other voice repeated. Niko felt Nessie’s breath hitch again. No, not now. Anytime but now.

“Nhhh… Niko I’m.. heh.. hih… I’m gonna snehheeze again… Whhh.. What do I do?” Nessie hitched against his neck. Niko’s breath caught in his throat, both at the adrenaline of avoiding those fucking creeps and also by the intimate position he and Nessie were in. He felt Nessie’s hands grab onto his back as the white-haired man tried to press up against Niko as hard as he could: Presumably using the winged man’s body to muffle any noise, but had the effect of pushing against Niko’s growing arousal. He pinched his mouth shut as to not let out a noise of his own as he felt Nessie’s breath on his neck. This time, the stifling was less successful, and Niko couldn’t help but freeze up, a hand over his mouth.

“ ngt-kt! H’AKch! K’Shu! Heh..hih…HIK’tch-chh-kSHu! Heh’ikShU! Hek’tchu! K’shh-h’shu! T’schUu… k’Tch!”

“What was that?” One of the voices asked, removing his back from the door. Niko continued stroking Nessie’s hair, in an attempt to convey everything was alright.

“What was what?” The other voice asked.

“There was a noise…”

“Tinnitus? Or did the demons get you again, Joseph?”

“I’m going to kill you.” Growled the first voice — who was now identified as belonging to a Joseph. The guy who tried spiking Nessie.

“Ha! You wish! Should we just cut our losses and go home? Maybe get a pretty girl to join us tonight?”

Niko felt the door vibrate as if someone had just kicked it. Nessie shifted uncomfortably against him, only putting more pressure on the thing Niko was trying so hard to hide.

“I’m determined to get that one. Did you see him? Prime real estate!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. We won’t be able to find him by just standing around, Joe.” The other voice muttered.

“You’re right. Let’s go. Maybe he’s dancing?”

“Sure”

Niko waited with bated breath until the footsteps faded out until he spoke.

“Nessie, we’re clear.” He mumbled. The white haired man inhaled a large hitching breath before all Niko could feel was Nessie sneezing onto his neck.

“H’eshu! H’kssh-kshh-tschu! Hih-tchu! K’chih! h’KTchu! hK’SHU-t’Schu! Hh… Hek’chht! tSSCh-K’chu!”

Niko sat there, open-mouthed, feeling every expulsion of air, every drop of saliva that managed to escape Nessie’s mouth. His hips bucked up involuntarily seeking further friction. Niko gasped as Nessie moved his face from his shoulder.

“Niko… are you… fhhuck!” Nessie began, making Niko flush red.

“Hehh..! hK’SHU! tSSCh-K’chu!Hih-tchu! Hek’tchu! K’shh-h’shu! hK’SHiu-t’tcchu! tshuu! Hk’tchh! Ak’ptsch! P’kshh-tshh-chht!”

This time, Nessie tilted his head down to sneeze freely onto his shirt, unable to move his head to the side or cover in time. Niko could barely help himself as he began stroking Nessie’s face.

“Jesus fuck, Ness…” Niko mumbled, more to himself than Nessie.

“I can feel you poking me.” Nessie sniffed, moving his hand to rub at his poor nose. Niko sighed.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Nessie assured him, bringing his face closer to Niko’s to bring him in for a kiss. Niko let out a small noise of surprise before returning the favour, clashing his lips against Nessie’s.

“Did the locked-in-a-closet scenario turn you on that much?” Nessie breathed, sniffing again.

“Well…” Niko started. His eyes had adjusted enough to the dark to see Nessie’s nose had begun to twitch again. The younger man had his face tilted to the ceiling as he hitched once, twice, then nothing. Nessie let out a frustrated groan as he rubbed his nose again.

“Stuck?” Niko asked. Nessie nodded, breathing heavily. Niko moved his hands to stroke Nessie’s cheek. “I have an idea.” He continued.

“Phh..please…” Nessie stuttered through hitching breaths. Niko tilted his head to the side, spreading his wings just enough to run against Nessie’s face.

“Ihh.. It’s nohht working,” Nessie mumbled. “Juhhst use one feather, mehh… hih… maybe?”

Niko hummed in appreciation, moving his hand to find a loose feather he could pluck. He yanked on one, quickly followed by a sneeze of his own: something that would inevitably happen every time he plucked a feather.

“Akk’TSCHIU! H’AKSHU! Ha, look, now I’m sneezing too.” he chuckled. He moved the feather closer to Nessie’s face, moving it against the underside of his nose.

“Fhh..fuck, Niko…” Nessie hitched helplessly. Niko then moved the feather into one of Nessie’s nostrils, swirling it around the spluttering man’s nose until Nessie practically pushed him off.

“hh.. hih… hih’hih’EKK’tshiew! tSSCh-K’chu! H’kssh-kshh-p’schh! P’chtt! T’KsHIEW! h’KTchu! hK’SHU-t’Schu! K’chih! Ptch’KSHU! Chht-ktchuu! Ts’chiuu!”

Nessie gripped onto Niko’s shoulders, sniffling and trying to catch his breath as Niko grabbed his face and pulled him into another hungry kiss.

“Fuck, you’re just so hot…” He murmured. Nessie’s head snapped back as he looked at Niko, eyes wide.

“Ohhh…” Nessie sighed.

“What?” The winged man asked.

“You’re horny for my sneezing…” Nessie continued, a large grin spreading across his face. Niko looked down awkwardly, just for Nessie to grab his chin and force him to look back up. “Don’t worry. I like it.” He said, capturing Niko’s lips in another desperate kiss. His tongue was exploring Niko’s mouth, and he rutted forwards to apply friction to their blatant arousal. When Nessie started to hitch again, he flashed another toothy grin at Niko, who looked at his roommate, transfixed. He was allowed to look. He saw Nessie’s chest rise and fall, still grinding his hips against Niko’s. He saw his eyes start to turn bleary. It was too dark to pinpoint exact expressions, but he could just imagine the tears welling in Nessie’s eyes, the way his mouth dropped slightly open…

“Hih..hh.h’KTchu! hK’SHU! Hek’tchu! K’shh-h’shu! EKK’tshiew! tshuu! Hk’tchh! Shit…”

Niko let out a small moan, bringing Nessie’s lips to meet his again. His arms trailing down Nessie’s clothes, desperately grabbing onto whatever was there. Once he reached Nessie’s waistband, he paused, waiting for confirmation. Nessie gasped a small “Please…” and that was all Niko needed to free the white-haired man’s cock. It was already hard, leaking precum. Niko thumbed the head and Nessie moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss to move his hand up and spit on it, bringing it back down to stroke Nessie. Nessie decided to return the favour, enthusiastically plunging his hand down into Niko’s pants. Niko let out a yelp of surprise as his dick hit the cool air, and Nessie let out a small giggle in return. At first, Niko kept a steady pace while stroking Nessie’s cock, making sure to relish the shudders and noises Nessie made. Every breath Nessie took could’ve been a hitch of breath or a moan of pleasure, and although Niko couldn’t tell which, it only made him more aroused. Nessie’s hand was surprisingly soft as it glided over his own dick, trying to match the rhythm Niko had set. It felt exhilarating. He was becoming more and more undone with every movement of Nessie’s hand, unable to control the small noises leaving his mouth while also focusing on keeping a hand on Nessie’s cock at the same time. This man was unravelling him, waves of pleasure coursing through his body as he felt Nessie’s lips on his again, moving against each other as if they were made to be connected. Tongues exploring mouths, slick sounds and pants filling the air. And then, without warning, Nessie broke the kiss with a small

“H’IKKshu! Chh’Hih’SHU!”

They were so sudden that Nessie couldn’t move his head in time, sneezing all over Niko. And that was all it took for the winged man to spill out over Nessie’s hand with a sharp cry, desperately trying to keep pumping Nessie’s cock as he rode his high. Nessie stroked him through, murmuring presumably words of encouragement. It was hardly a minute later that Nessie himself came; head buried in Niko’s shoulder again.

“Holy shit.” Niko gasped.

“Holy shit indeed. I never expected you to be this deranged.” Nessie added on, rubbing his nose.

“Thanks Nessie. Really helping my self-esteem here.”

Nessie laughed, trying to shove his pants back on while avoiding the wet spots. Niko felt himself go red.

“You can uh… Tie my jacket around your waist too. We need to go home and clean up.” Niko mumbled, stroking Nessie’s hair.

“Yeah. That we do.” The white-haired man laughed, enveloping Niko’s lips with his own again. “I can’t wait to get out of this dusty ass closet.”  Niko pretended he didn’t notice how red Nessie’s nose had gotten once they opened the door, or the way Nessie was still diligently rubbing it with the same hand that had just stroked him to completion.

#snz #sneeze kink #snzblr #snzfucker #snz fic #snz ocs #snz oc #snz kink #genshin snzpact

[percsane]

-ˋˏ 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ˎˊ

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐈 : 𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓.

— pairing: ellie williams x black coded!reader

— story synopsis: after meeting joel and ellie in pure coincidence, you tag along with the pair, having nowhere else to go. ellie doesn’t seem too fond of you, but something about her dares you to see why.

— warnings: eighteen plus only content, tlou2 ellie, marijuana usage, mean!ellie, nicknames used: ‘babe’, ‘sweetheart’, etc. father figure!joel

THE COOLING WINTER BREEZE sent shivers down the girls back. holding the shooting rifle close as she shot down the deer, giving herself a mental pat on the back.

It’s almost been a whole week since she’d eaten, been even longer since she ate well. after a long journey of searching for the firefly’s, she had given up.. maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

While approaching the wounded deer, there were hushed noises and movements behind the girl, making her sharply turn around, seizing her gun.

“Make a fucking move I dare y’all.” her breathing was slow, controlled. eyes narrowed at the older looking man with his.. daughter? maybe?

The older man raises his hands, surrendering. the girl however smirks, reloading her gun.

“Ellie. drop it.” The guy calls to her, making her roll her eyes.

The girl… or well Ellie most likely didn’t take her seriously, I mean, she probably wouldn’t take herself seriously. She was covered in blood and scars all over her face, her clothes were beaten up and her curls were wrapped up in a low bun.

“Who are you two and what the hell do you want.” you inquire, your gun still in tact with your hands.

“Listen, we don’t want any trouble. We just heading on over to Jackson that’s all. We was making sure you wasn’t a hunter.” The man speaks, you hum in response.

“Well she sure does look like one..” Ellie murmurs under her breathe. She catches that and shoots right above Ellie’s head.

“Are you crazy or something, what the fuck?!?!” Ellie yells, unprepared for that action.

“Sorry.” A sarcastic smile falls from her lips, shrugging as she puts her gun down.

“I kinda like her.” The man whisper-yells to Ellie.

“Oh shut up, Joel.” Her eyes roll in disgust. So.. not father and daughter?

”Is it just the two of you..?” She asks, tucking her hands into the pockets of her big jacket.

“Is it just you?” Ellie interrogates, eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

Okay white girl.. she definitely isn’t too shy.

“Do you see anyone standing with me?” She asks, with just the right amount of annoyance, added with sass in her tone.

”Well I don’t know you, mystery girl. You could have a whole gang of people jus’ waitin’ to punk us.” Ellie scoffs.

Joel lightly hits her on her head, making her wince in pain.

“Sorry ‘bout her. Her manners aren’t the best.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Nah it’s ight, I can tell.” She says, looking her up and down.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Joel asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Nah, just me. Some of my friends.. well. That ain’t important, just know it’s just me out here.” She shrugs nonchalantly.

“You could always join us, the town we going to ain’t that far away y’know?” Joel offers, a slight smile spreading across his face. You could tell he had good intentions.. Ellie on the other hand.. you couldn’t really tell.

“And how do I know I can trust you..?” You ask, testing them.

“You can’t, but if you wanna survive.. you’re gonna have to.” Joel concludes, hands in his pockets standing next to a smug Ellie.

“… Fine. But I’m calling dibs on my deer.”

“Oh trust, you won’t need it.”

“Hey hey hey, relax you might throw up if you keep eating that fast.” The woman whose name you’ve learned is, Maria chuckles, rubbing circles on her back.

Clearing her throat, Y/N speaks. “I’m sorry.. I haven’t eaten this well in.. god knows how long.” She nervously chuckles.

“Don’t worry ‘bout a thing hun, I’ll be back with some clothes for you in a minute.” She smiles, patting Y/N’s back.

Y/N stops to gulp down some water when she’s met with Ellie’s face. Eyebrows furrowed, lips upturned, and a total look of disgust colorizing her face.

“What?” She spat.

“You’re eating like a damn animal.” She scoffs, leaning back in her chair.

Gripping the butter knife in her hand, she waves it at the snarky girl in front of her. “Yeah? I can damn well show you one too, keep playin’ wit me.” She threatens, venom laced in her tone.

“Yeah? Try me, Y/N.” Ellie smirked, leaning forward. Green and brown eyes staring to one other with nothing but feral looks in their eyes.

Their stare off was cut off by Joel cutting in. “Ellie. Be nice, there was a time you were once like that, so don’t even.” he murmurs.

Maria returns with clothes, handing them to Y/N. “Here sweetie, these are for you. Once you’re all done, I’ll show you around to the showers so you can get comfortable.”

“Thank you, really.” Y/N smiles, for the first time in a while, it’s genuine.

“And these are our showers, so you can wash all that blood off okay? We also have some med kit’s in the room you’re staying in, so you can get those cuts taken care of!” Maria shoots you a sweet smile.

“Thanks Maria.” She nods.

“So… how did you get here?” Maria asks, making you shoot your head up, tilting it.

“I just.. well a kid like you all alone? It’s just a little strange is all..”

“Listen, if you worried about me bringing anyone along with me, I haven’t. No one I know is alive anymore.. that I know of at least.” Y/N sighs.

“Shit, I’m real sorry-“ Maria starts

“No need. I’m alright. Shit happens, just gotta keep moving forward is all.” She shrugs, small smile containing her lips.

Maria nods, letting the curly headed girl shower in peace.

It’s been a week.

A long, but better, week.

Ellie’s still a piece of shit but.. I guess it’s better than dealing with the infected.

The town was nice, the people even nicer.. all with the exception of Ellie. Maria was one of the few people that you did like. She showed you the training zone, which is where you spent half of your time.

The other half was spent with Jesse. You thought he was fun to hang around so the two of you got closer than ever. Though, the two of you have made it clear that there are no romantic feelings for one another, because of your sexual orientation, and he respected that.

Weird enough.. every time you were with Jesse, Ellie always gave you the weirdest looks.

Like today, Jesse got back from patrol with a scraped up knee. And being his best friend, you tended it for him.

What you didn’t see was Ellie standing there, watching you patch him up and laugh and joke with him. Though she didn’t like you, she didn’t like you.. with him.

Once you were all done you patted his now bandaged up knee, smiling to him, letting him know that he should take care of it frequently so it won’t get infected.

“Hey stranger.” You hear right next to you as you close the door, jumping and grabbing your chest.

“Yo. Ellie do not do that shit bro.” You exhale, releasing the grip on your chest and looking her up and down. “What you want?” You ask.

“So what’s going on with you and Jesse?” she throws at you, making you blink rapidly at her before bursting into laughter, leaving her confused.

“Dude, what?? What’s it to you?” You calm your laughter down a bit, wiping away tears that escaped.

“I don’t know what’s so funny. I mean.. y’know him and Dina JUST broke it off right?” She scoffs, looking you up and down.

“Listen dude, it aint like that. Ion even swing that way man, I thought that shit was mad obvious you damn dickhead.” Y/N gives her a “the fuck?” look, leaving Ellie dumbfounded as she walks off.

“OKAY WELL MY BAD! I GUESS..?” Ellie yells, watching you walk off.

“WHATEVER.” Y/N yells back. “God.. you’re the worst, Ellie Williams.”

©𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦.

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