#and all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear ( jonathan crane ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vmpyria · 3 months

Text

you’re a fool for trying to escape the radio demon.

you thought you were clever, that you could outsmart one of the most powerful overlords in hell.

how stupid can you be?

hiding out in a small house, away from most of the hellosh population. it was far from the city, far from the hotel, far from him.

you thought you were safe.

sighing softly, you quietly scribbled down — journaling. a thing you had learned in the hotel, to write your emotions down, express them and feel better.

initially, you thought it was silly, a stupid way to cope that didn’t work. that is, until you escaped from him. your escape was planned, at least to the best of your ability. you weren’t completely isolated from the people in the hotel, but your meetings were limited, alastor did have rules..

the biggest one being: do not let them know you were being held against your will.

you needed to play wife, and you did, but that didn’t stop you from planning an escape from this hell hole.

anyway, journaling was a new hobby of yours.

you’ve come to remember your time with alastor, your first meeting, how he trapped you, what he did to you, and how you escaped. now you’re writing about your new life, a quiet life, a life you’re still getting adjusted to.

you were paranoid, scared, but feeling..better.

all of the doors to the small house were locked, so were the windows, and the windows had curtains.

you were locked away and isolated, but at least you weren’t with him.

that’s all that matters..right?

“oh, darling! there you are!”

that stupid fucking voice, the stupid old times voice, one that sounded like it was coming through an old radio. at the sound of his voice, your undead heart stopped dead in hits tracks.

your breath caught in your throat, your hand gripped the pen tightly. before you even realized it your vision got cloudy, tears were filling your eyes.

a hand came to your shoulder, squeezing it tightly. you tensed, the tears began to fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks as the atmosphere turned dark, tension filling the air.

the static got louder and his grip got tighter.

“this was fun, don’t you think?” he asked, leaning down, hunching over you. his horns growing longer and his body contorting slowly.

you turned around, looking over at alastor with fear behind your gaze.

his demon form terrified you, you never became found of him. he was horrifying. your eyebrows raised, furrowing upward, your tears flowing.

“now, y/n. my darling,” alastor said, his claw-like hands reaching out for your face. his grin was never ending, even now. he was snarling, his hands finally grabbed your head, his nails digging into your skin.

his grip on you was tight, painful, he might even be breaking your delicate skin.

“why would you do that?” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous.

the room was dark, his eyes glowing as symbols filled the air.

“i-“ you stammered, what were you supposed to say?

i hate you and i never wanted to see you again?

no, he’d beat you, restrain you, keep you isolated from the world. in the best scenario, he would kill you, but you didn’t want to die by his hand.

you gulped, choking back a sob. you hated how weak he made you feel, how terrified he made you.

“i-i’m..sorry.” you stammered fearfully.

a laugh boomed from his chest, a bitter laugh, a cruel laugh. “you’re sorry?” he mocked, after the stunt you pulled? after he was left to clean up your mess? answer all of the questions thrown his way by dear charlie?

now your want to apologize?

“i thought you were better than this, darling! you know how much i hate people that cross me..” he sighed dramatically, grinning angrily. almost as if he was holding back from ripping your body apart. “i never expected you to go against me!” he said loudly, pushing you against the desk where your journal was. the impact was hard enough to make the book fall, catching alastor’s attention as his ear twitched.

you were trembling like leaf, watching as he reached for your journal, filled with all of your memories and thoughts.

filled with paragraphs where you expressed how much you loathed him.

“oh? what’s this?” he mused.

“no! please!” you cried, falling to your knees as you tried to reach for the book, trying to take it away from him before he grabbed it.

alastor scoffed, pushing you aside, grabbing the book. curious on what could you be hiding that’s so important, important enough for you to try to hide it.

he’s tired of your secrets.

taking the book in his hands, alastor opened it, flipping through various pages filled with your words before landing on one.

‘i hated having to play his stupid wife, like, did i have to pretend i loved him? oh, so the daughter of lucifer wouldn’t think badly of him. duh. why does he even care about the hotel? he never told me, i’m sure it’s some stupid scheme to gain power. i hate him and i hate that stupid hotel.’

his pupil seemed to get smaller, anger bubbling inside him as he flipped through another page.

‘i hate alastor, i hate him, more than hate him. despise, loathe? i don’t know. i just hate him. i never knew what he saw in me and—‘

alastor’s claws dug into the paper, ripping up the pages. looking over at your pathetic form on the floor, look a deer caught in headlights.

terrified.

“my, is that how you really feel?” he hummed, stepping closer to you, holding the book to your face. “I—I-“ you stammered, skimming through the lines.

quickly, you shook your head desperately. alastor laughed, it almost sounded like growl, throwing the book to the side, he grabbed your chin and pulled you closer.

“you’re lucky i care deeply about you,” he growled, squeezing your chin tightly, all the sobs you were holding back before slipped. crying like a little baby as he grinned, if you survived this, you didn’t even want to imagine what he would do to you.

alastor moved his hand, gripping your hair tightly before pulling you up with a yank, “we’re going back to the hotel, you’re going to say that you were busy with some business, and you’re never going to pull a stunt like this again.” he threatened.

you cried, nodding, babbling apologies like a baby.

this was a second chance, one that you didn’t want — but at least you wouldn’t get killed by him.

you’ve seen what he’s capable of, you’ve seen him eat and maul anyone that dared to even look at him badly.

alastor grabbed your wrist, pulling you close as he morphed back to his regular self. “understand, my dear?” he mused, gripping you tightly, making sure you had no chance of pulling anything stupid.

you nodded, hiccuping and sniffling, you didn’t want to die.

you truly were lucky.

#𖤐 . WRITINGS #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere #yandere x reader

1K notes · View notes

rileyslibrary · 5 months

Text

Ghost is forced to dress up as Santa for the day and talk to kids.

You’re ordered to tag along as his Elf and do some damage control if necessary.

———————————————————————

You lean against his armchair, watching the chaos in front of you. Children are crying, tugging at their parents’ clothes, shouting both in excitement and fear, all while looking at you. A young boy keeps waving at your lieutenant, desperate to get his attention, but Ghost is too preoccupied with coming to terms with his new reality to notice.

You return his wave with a smile.

“Try to stay still, Santa,” you remind Ghost as you nod towards the boy. “Kids are watching.”

He snaps back into focus and redirects his attention to the queue. He stretches one last time, pushing on the armrests, before settling into the chair.

“Try not to tell me what to do,” he murmurs and waves back at the child.

You straighten up and tweak your green hat, triggering the bell at its tip to jiggle in your ear. You feel for him; you really do. He’s not supposed to be here; he’s not built for this. Unfortunately—for him or the kids, you haven’t decided yet—the “real” Santa broke his hip at the last minute, and your military base stepped in to provide a new Santa for the local community.

And what better replacement than Ghost, you may ask? Well, literally anybody else.

Dressed in a red costume with white faux fur trim, the lieutenant looks nothing like the man you experienced on the battlefield. His shoulders threaten to rip through the rented outfit, and the seams at the back hold onto each other for dear life. Since his belly wasn’t big enough to simulate Santa’s, you asked him to stuff a pillow under his uniform. Surprisingly, Ghost complied almost instantly, leaving you to wonder if he was using the pillow as Kevlar, a barrier between him and the kids or if he was secretly enjoying this.

You also convinced him to ditch the balaclava for the time being since he would now have plenty of props to conceal his face—a wig, a long beard, glasses, and a red hat with a white pom-pom, to be exact. Additionally, you attempted to trick him into applying some blush on his cheeks, but he side-eyed you and told you to ‘be careful now’—ironic for a man who paints his face daily.

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm amid the chaos of the mall as you prepare for what’s about to happen during the next few hours. You have no idea why Price chose him to be Santa, but you didn’t question it either. Ghost seems to be the least qualified for the job out of everyone in the base. It feels like a last resort, so to speak—a ‘that’s all we have left in the store’ solution.

On the other hand, you know precisely why the captain chose you to accompany him. “To monitor the situation,” he said—“To make sure we don’t get sued,” you heard. And, under normal circumstances, you’d be happy to tag along with Ghost—be it on patrol, on missions, or even transporting confidential documents. But in this situation? Acting as a troubleshooter rather than a teammate? You’d rather be anywhere else than here, with anybody else than him.

You take another look at him while he sits on the chair. He’s tugging at the uniform, scratching his head, and instinctively pulling the beard to his nose.

“Stop doing that,” you whisper. “It’s a beard, not a balaclava.”

“Price would have been perfect for the job, for fucks sake,” he spits. “He has the fucking moustache for starters.”

“Stop with the ‘fucks’ and the ‘fucking’ Ghost; you’re about to talk to kids! And, as for the captain, he said he couldn’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, lifting his hands from the armrests. “And what makes him think that I can?”

“I wish I knew, to be honest, but we don’t have time to go through this again,” you murmur, looking at your watch one last time. You approach the barrier, unclip the rope from the stanchion, and turn over your shoulder.

“Operation ‘Santa’ begins now,” you declare. “Ready?”

“Do I have a choice?” He replies, shrugging, and gestures for you to proceed.

And so it begins. Your first ‘customer’ arrives, and many more follow. You guide one family at a time into the enclosure and escort them to Ghost, who handles the rest. Some children are hesitant, peeking out from behind their parents’ legs, while others are much more direct with their intentions as they scream in horror at the sight of him.

On the other hand, Ghost is neither your typical jolly Santa nor the irritated lieutenant you’d expect. He appears to be... understanding. He reassures parents that it’s okay and there’s no need to force their children onto his lap if they feel uncomfortable. He initiates conversations with the kids from a respectful distance. He smiles with his eyes and hunches his shoulders to appear less imposing. Sometimes, he lures the shy ones into a handshake, a fist pump, or a high five by lowering his gloved hand to their level.

And then there are those other types of kids: the curious ones, the social butterflies. The ones who look forward to sitting on Ghost’s lap, diving into full-blown conversations with him. That’s when you stiffen up and switch into damage-control mode to ensure he won’t lash out at them. You begin hovering above them, listening, jumping into their conversations and sometimes interrupting Ghost and replying to the kids instead of him.

You would have thought he’d be grateful to have you managing the situation. Ghost, however, seems more irritated by you than by the little girl who’s currently playing with the pom-pom on his hat.

“Oi, Elf!” he says calmly, yet visibly annoyed. “Emma and I are chatting about how she spilt tomato juice on her Elsa costume and wants a new one for Christmas. Could you please falala off and go wrap some presents?”

“B-but I need to know because I’ll be sewing it for her,” you reply, smiling at the little girl. “Isn’t that right, Emma?”

And, although Emma nods her head, more out of necessity than agreement, you get his point. He’s doing surprisingly well with those kids, even without you. Actually, he’s doing remarkably well, especially without you.

More kids come and go, and Ghost slowly adapts to his new persona. He starts making bets with you, predicting which kids in the queue might ask for a PlayStation or an iPad and even speculating who might wipe snot on his costume. You, in response, adopt a more laid-back approach and let him do his thing. After each child’s visit, Ghost turns towards you, whispering in your ear about their Christmas wishes, as if he’s indeed Santa, and keeps logs.

“My man wants a full-sized car wheel,” Ghost murmurs as the young boy leaps off his lap, “can you believe him?”

“What did you say to him?” You ask, stifling a laugh.

“I told him I’ll get it for him,” he shrugs. “What else should I do?”

“Alright, but what did you really want to tell him?”

“That his dad already has four of them screwed in his car.”

As the day winds down, and the final announcement for the day echoes through the speakers, parents and children walk past you and towards the exit. They wave at Ghost and occasionally at you. The parking lot empties, the stores shut their doors until tomorrow, and the holiday lights that decorate the inside of the mall switch off one by one.

You stretch your back and tap on his shoulder, signalling that both of you should pack up and return to the base.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, grasping your wrist with one hand and tapping his thigh with the other. “You didn’t tell me what you want for Christmas.”

You’re exhausted but still manage to smile as you comply with his request. You sit on his lap, and he leans back to take a better look at you.

“Let’s think about it another way,” you say. “What would you, as Santa, give me for Christmas?”

“Coal,” he replies. “And a muzzle, so you don’t interrupt me while I’m talking. What was that all about?”

“Was afraid you’d say something bad,” you explain. “But you were pretty good with those kids.”

He shakes his head and plays with the fur trim on his sleeve. “Nah,” he murmurs. “I’d never say something bad to a kid.”

“Speaking of bad and coal,” you say, combing his fake beard, “you never asked the typical ‘have you been a good kid’ to any of them.”

“There’s no bad kid in the world, love,” he whispers. “All kids are good, even the naughty ones.”

You smile at him, but he doesn’t look back at you. He’s examining his uniform as if trying to find something else to discuss. He finds some crumbs a kid left on his suit and brushes them off.

“Ready to head back to the base, Lieutenant?” You ask, tapping his thigh before standing up. You extend your hand to him, and he gladly accepts it, helping him rise from the chair he’s been sitting in all day. You begin walking towards the exit, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder. You reciprocate by hugging his waist.

You walk up to the parked military vehicle that brought you here earlier, still discussing the day. He opens the door but pauses and turns to look at you.

“Resilience,” he declares. “That’s what I would gift you for Christmas.”

“Why?” You ask, turning to look at him. “You think I need it?”

“We all do,” he replies softly, just like when he used to talk to those kids. “Since I can’t protect you from every obstacle life throws your way, I might as well give you the ability to recover from them.”

“That would make me very happy, Lieutenant.” You say, smiling.

He smiles back at you and reaches for your hat to fix it better on your head. His hand moves to your forehead, and he tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

“It’s Santa to you.” He replies.

———————————————————————

A/N: Bruh, I was so tempted to make the reader pull off a Mariah Carey and say, “All I want for Christmas is you,” when Ghost asked what they wanted, but my gag reflexes kicked in every time, and I was cringing galore.

So, there you go: resilience. That’s what I would like to gift you as well. I wish I could shield you from whatever has troubled you in the past or is currently doing so. To protect you from future worries and make everything ‘falala off’. Unfortunately, I can’t do that, neither for you nor for myself.

But this is why comfort characters and stories exist—so we can imagine, when no one is there for us, that someone actually is.

Just like Santa. Just like Ghost.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x gn!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley #cod ghost #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #cod mw ghost

2K notes · View notes

bunji-enthusiast · 2 months

Text

Only Man (Your own love kills)

Note || jealousy scenario rahhh, it’s kinda one? Or isn’t? Idk I went down the hills. Also some context, some humans actually survived the hour of joy, so there is a few mentions of camp stuffs.

WC || 896

Sypnosis || In a world of comfort, seems he can’t begin to fathom the reality of emotions settling within him.

Have you ever been in love?

If he was being honest, life was fuzzy, even more so temperamental that he was from human to dusk and dawn. But he wouldn’t have traded it for anything if it meant he would see you in his non-life or life over and over again.

That is one thing so entirely unique to the quality of dogs, they are loyal and strong with you to the end.

In the sense of irony, he never would’ve expected to be DogDay. But he had long since lived with the idea that he lived this way, to be a leader and a friend to all those he held dear. He never would’ve become anything else, not if he had anything to do with it.

DogDay doesn’t mind sacrificing his own life and body to protect others, to mean if they live. Sure, he may not live to see that aspect he was wholeheartedly himself, that was how he knew he wasn’t completely off the dark end as DogDay.

It was his name and his alone, to be frank; madness, torment and the ripping away of the happiness once had was abnormally flippant to the reality he once knew and loved. DogDay had lived with it, it became the norm for him to live so strongly, trying to be a light those can vy for and not lose themselves in the process.

Love was one remaining factor to his stillborn life, DogDay wasn’t anchoring toward anything. Always having to down his head in order for those alive and their with him meant he could live with that, strong willed humans and toys alike holding their heads up high, that meant he had to stand still and straight so they could see how far they had come.

Hush little baby don’t you cry.

That tune was familiar, was he here? Beyond the specific residence of his permeance, no, he was alive and here. Everyone was okay, camp to be sure, but you too were there. DogDay was content, he didn’t even need words, actions were more than enough.

Everything’s gonna be alright.

You were singing such a wonderful tune, yet a wrenching pit in the gut of his fabricated stomach caused him to think otherwise from the place of his peace. A human male was getting a little too close to you for his liking, trying to stray away from employee regulations no doubt. DogDay wasn’t gonna let that slide, he wasn’t going to allow him to tarnish your personal boundaries and sure as hell was gonna make sure that he knew that.

Stiffen that upper lip, little lady..

DogDay stood up from where he had sat, back being rubbed against the rubble stone wall, for a moment it almost hurt. Yet the pain faded away just as quickly as it came, he began walking, calming himself as your melodic tunes remained ever as wavering to his ears.

All was okay and well between the people in the encampment, strained suffice to say with the amount of space people were left with – but they all had each other to lean and rely on. Not akin to the likes of the Prototype and the rest of his brainwashed lackeys.

‘Oh CatNap, I wish you could’ve come with us. Why turn to his side?’

DogDay perked up at the whisper shouting his down-trodded ears were picking up, seeing the easel of jealousy churning in his gut. You were trying to turn away the exact guy still with you from which he saw earlier, he turned around from where his body had been hidden from view.

You and the man were greeted by the sight of a very large DogDay.

You set down your guitar, smiling at seeing him. “Hi DogDay! What’s up?” He waved for a moment, then turned to sit down with you and the man. Who seemed to be clearly quivering in half-sighted fear, sensing the intentions of DogDay.

“Nothing to be worried about Angel,” He began, voice still roughed up from previous events. “But is this gentleman bothering you?” DogDay asked, motioning to the man who began inching away from the both of you, seeing as he made (a very clear) mistake.

You waved DogDay off, “Oh this guy? He ain’t bothering me.” Head turning before you had spoke with a hint of finality.

“You were leaving, right?” The man nodded, the look of fear very evident on his poor face. Then he finally walked off with a stride that clearly spoke, ‘Don’t kill me please.’

In hindsight, DogDay was going to shield you from him. It seemed that was all it took to get you away from his very slimy presence, he sighed internally, as he wasn’t one to want to cause altercations.

He was a more methodical man – toy? Person? – then that anyway, DogDay then looked up, gaining eye contact with you. With a small wave of his paw in return, “Weren’t you singing? I’d love to hear more of it, Angel.” You smile at him with a scoff escaping you, picking up the guitar to re-adjust your position that you had set your fingers upon the lines originally.

DogDay was glad to be up close to hear your beautiful singing.

Compared to that icky emotion he felt earlier, that was rather confusing as he thought about it.

This was much better.

#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #poppy playtime dogday #dogday #dogday x reader

590 notes · View notes

faebaex · 4 months

Text

Tangled in Wonderland - Tall, Tall Tales

author note: Eeeeek this is very, very late! A lot of stuff has happened and yada yada but I’m here and I’m sorry! I’m still going to continue with this and I hope I can get back on track with writing this because I’m really enjoying this event! This instalment follows on directly from the Scarabia one, I hope you all enjoy!

characters: Floyd Leech x GN!Reader

“SHRIMPY!”

Oh no.

Your whole body froze up in an instant at the sound of that familiar, unhinged voice. Clearly, fate had decided you hadn’t gone through enough punishment today and decided to add a little bit more spice to your day. And by spice, it meant perhaps one of the most chaotic entities you have ever met. You looked around wildly, trying to spot him as quickly as you could so you could run. He was right on the path leading up to the Hall of Mirrors, roguish grin on his face as he waved both his arms at you. Your only choice was to go back inside and escape through one of the mirrors.

“Stay away from me, Leech!” You snapped, not even bothering with your usual faux attempt to be cordial as you turned on your heel, bolting towards the mirrors. If you could just get through the Heartlabyul mirror, you’d be—

“Aha~! Got you.” Breathed a husky voice right by your ear, suddenly tugged straight off your feet and into the air by the lanky arms that coiled around your midsection, your back flush against his chest.

“Shrimpy is so mean, callin’ me by just my last name! Even when I’ve gone through all the effort to give you a lil nickname too!” Floyd mourned, swinging you around the Hall of Mirrors, your legs swinging perilously out in front of you whilst you clutched onto his arms for dear life and let out a small, undignified scream. “Aah, maybe you thought I was Jade? Because I was really far away? Then maybe I can forgive you, Shrimpy…” His sharp teeth were uncomfortable close to your ear as he let out a little laugh, “or maybe I can just keep spinnin’ you around!”

Floyd picked up the speed of his spinning, his manic laughter drowning out your screams and for a moment, you thought this might be how it all ended… But then you remembered, the Leech twins thrive off of fear in their victims, so you sucked it up and started hitting him on his arms to get his attention. If your legs ended up breaking one of the mirrors, you’d never hear the end of it from Crowley…

“P-put me down, Floyd! I am not a toy!” You cried out, and thankfully your repeated hitting of his arms managed to get his attention, for he finally slowed to a stop. The world spun around you, making you semi-grateful for his arms around your waist. They were the only thing holding you up, at this point.

“Eh? Are you sure you’re not a toy? Azul said somethin’ real interesting the other day…”

Uh oh.

“Did he now…” You remarked, feigning disinterest as best as you could as your vision finally began to right itself again.

“Mhmmm~” Floyd mused against your ear, and you just knew this couldn’t be good, “he said you know things. Things that you should have no way of knowing. Kinda like one of those magic 8 ball things.” Floyd continued, before his mouth split into a broad, terrifying grin. “Maybe if I shake you a little, you’ll tell me all sorts of things too.”

“Floyd, don’t—”

It was too late. You clung to Floyd’s arms as he began to shake you erratically, like you were a chocolate bar stuck in a vending machine. Your head collided with his shoulder multiple times, not hard enough to hurt but definitely jarring in its own way as the world once again became dizzying. Floyd seemed to be enjoying himself, his mocking laughter filling the small hall as he watched your rattled expression.

“Oh magic Shrimpy ball, oh magic Shrimpy ball,” he chanted as he continued to shake you, finally beginning to slow down as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “why did you walk out of the Scarabia mirror just a moment ago?”

Ah, of course he saw that.

With as much strength as you could muster in your dizzy state, you threw an elbow back into his chest, feeling some satisfaction when you heard him let out a small ‘oof’. “That’s none of your business,” you grumbled, your lips turned downwards in distaste. “and that isn’t even how a magic 8 ball works! You’re supposed to ask the question first and then shake it… Don’t start shaking me again!” You quickly warned as a follow up, turning your head to give Floyd a glare. He just gave you that little frustrating grin right back.

“It’s not my fault Shrimpy, I have all this pent-up energy ‘cause you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed you.” As if to punctuate his words, he started to squeeze you, and you found yourself once again whacking his arms to get him to release you.

“Floyd! There is no need—” You gasped out, feeling some of your joints cracking harmlessly from the pressure but a tightness building near your ribs that promised pain if he didn’t stop soon. You gasped out a breath when he finally eased up his hold, but very nearly choked when you realised he was waltzing right towards the Octavinelle mirror.

“Floyd, put me down!”

“Nah, Shrimpy, don’t feel like it. Let’s hang out!” Floyd responded in his usual lackadaisical manner, stepping through the Octavinelle dormitory mirror without pause. It was odd, feeling the usually surreal feeling of a bubble forming around you as you floated towards the dorm, but on top of that, Floyd was still holding you, back flush against his chest with your legs dangling in front of you. You can’t imagine how ridiculous it looked.

Floyd walked you straight into the Mostro Lounge without a care in the world, heading straight for one of the unoccupied booths.

“Oya,” you heard another terribly familiar voice as you passed the bar, “I see you have acquired a valuable customer, Floyd. Please enjoy your stay.” Jade hummed with a short bow, not even bothering to hide his toothy grin as he observed your plight. You didn’t even get a chance to scowl before Floyd was bundling you into a booth, none too gently either.

“What? You told me to put you down.” Floyd drawled when you shot him a glare, sitting opposite you and spreading himself out on the available space. He leaned his elbows onto the table, propping his head up with one palm as he stared straight at you.

“Ne, Shrimpy… Why don’t you tell me what you said to Azul the other week to make him come back all shaken up?” Floyd hummed, his smile seeming playful, but you could already see the predatory glint in his eye.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, unsure of what Floyd’s motive was here.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You responded demurely, keeping tight lipped. Floyd’s smile widened, sharp teeth on full display as he leaned forward. “Don’t be like that, Shrimpy! You should have seen it, it was hilarious!” Floyd cackled thumping his hand on the table in front of them, “he came rushin’ back to the Lounge, all pale faced and jumpy, and then locked himself in the VIP room.”

A cocktail glass filled with a blue liquid and decorated with a star shaped garnish was elegantly placed in front of you. A similar glass was placed in front of Floyd. “Yes, Azul was very startled when he returned to the Lounge the other week. We were very worried.” Jade confirmed, folding his hands in front of him, faux concern colouring his tone, but the amusement shone through his close eyed smile.

“I didn’t order this.” You responded dryly, as Floyd already pulled his straw to his mouth and took a gulp from his drink. “Aww just try it Shrimpy, it’s my own recipe! It’s good, see!” He stuck his tongue out, revealing his stained bright blue tongue. You pushed your glass away from you. Yeah, you definitely weren’t going to be trying that.

“I’m positively hurt, prefect. I mixed that with care, just for you.” Jade hummed, his eyebrows down turning in a look of fake hurt. You ignored him.

“We could hear Azul muttering to himself in the VIP room. ‘Who are they’, ‘how do they know that’. He got so mad when we used Jade’s key to unlock the door. You should have seen his face, Ahaa~”

“You spied on your own friend? You guys are ruthless.” You commented casually, and Floyd only grinned at you wider, Jade’s expression not changing from his solemn one.

“The VIP room was quite the mess, too. Papers all over the floor. Azul wouldn’t even let me help him clean it all up, it must have taken him hours.” Jade added, his smile looking more and more devious by the minute.

“So tell us what you did, Shrimpy.” Floyd prodded.

“Yes tell us, prefect.” Jade coaxed.

Both of the Leech twins stared you down, razor sharp smiles on their faces as they attempted to intimidate you into revealing what happened between you and Azul in the library that day. You were starting to see now why Azul insisted on referring to them as just colleagues.

You were in a bit of a bind here. You expected the stunt you pulled on Azul to have some backlash, and you really didn’t want to make the Leech twins anymore interested in you than they already were. And for whatever reason, Azul hadn’t divulged what you had said to him to Jade and Floyd, who were his closest confidants. Or, this was some sort of elaborate ruse that they had strategized to wheedle the information out of you. Either way, you thought you should probably tread with caution here…

… But Azul had been bothering you again lately…

You leaned back into your seat, looking sheepishly away from them both and staring at the smooth pearlescent surface of the table. “I don’t know guys, it’s kind of… Embarrassing…” You muttered. You caught Jade and Floyd sharing a look between each other before they leaned in closer, like sharks tasting blood.

“Ne, it’s okay, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

“It might make you feel better to get it off your chest, prefect…”

Hook, line and sinker.

You glanced up at them, the both of them leaning in uncomfortably close but you masked your distaste by rubbing your arm, as if you were feeling flustered by just thinking about the situation. “Well, um…” You began, pausing for dramatic effect, Floyd leaning in closer in anticipation and Jade nodding gently, as if the comfort you for the difficult story you were about to tell.

“Azul had been visiting me in the library after classes for a few days… We were getting along really well… It was, well… It was nice to have a friend. It’s hard sometimes, being the odd one out…” You sighed softly, really hamming it up for them. They were eating it up, leaning closer as you continued, “but Azul never made me feel like that. He was always so kind, so welcoming.” You smiled for a moment, before you face dropped and your lips pressed together into a tight line. “But then…” You hesitated again, your expression creasing into a distressed frown.

“Did something happen, prefect?”

“Yeah, yeah! Tell us Shrimpy!”

“Well… One day suddenly, he… Asked me on a date… But…” You started, but then you covered your face with your hands and shook your head, “oh I can’t say it, it’s just so… So humiliating!” You cried out, your voice muffled by your hands. Floyd and Jade were watching with rapt attention, Jade not even able to hide his obvious enjoyment at both your perceived distress and the opportunity to get some dirt on Azul, whereas Floyd hadn’t been hiding his excitement in the first place.

“But what, Shrimpy?”

“Please prefect, if you tell us, perhaps we can put your mind at ease…”

Slowly, you uncovered your hands from your face, to see the eager faces of the Leech twins nodding at you encouragingly. You leaned in close, and they followed suit, all three of you huddled together in the booth almost conspiratorially. You looked around nervously, before you continued in a hushed whisper.

“I had to turn him down… He got a little upset, understandably. He couldn’t see why I didn’t like him, why I wouldn’t give him a chance…” Floyd and Jade shared a discreet look at that, because that definitely sounded like the Azul they knew. “I tried to comfort him, to tell him that I thought he was a great guy and it was me not him but he just wouldn’t listen! So I had to tell him the truth…” You winced, wringing your hands together. If Floyd and Jade leaned any closer, you’d all be bumping heads together.

“The truth, prefect?”

“Ne, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

You swallowed, before looking up at them with your best puppy dog eyes. “Okay, please don’t say anything but… … …”

“… I’m allergic to octopus…”

The table fell silent. Floyd and Jade stared at you, motionless, as you peeked up bashfully at them. Then suddenly, Floyd was roaring with laughter, his loud cackle making several of the customers in the Lounge jump in surprise. His hand thumped the table several times, knocking over his drink and sending the bright blue juice spilling all over the shiny white surface and onto the tile below. Jade effortlessly sidestepped before the mess could hit his shoes, but his shoulders were visibly shaking as his hand tried to hide his laughter

“Oh prefect… I’m so pffft… Ahem… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jade attempted, hand still propped to his chin as he tried to compose himself, rather unsuccessfully screamed with laughter beside him.

“What is going on here?!”

A voice hissed through the Lounge, but the twins didn’t even flinch. If anything, it just sent Floyd into fresh peals of laughter, flopping down on the booth seat as he held his stomach.

Azul stood a few feet away, obviously brought out by the commotion and chaos that was currently happening in your booth. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting there, but he quickly schooled his face again, a detail that Jade caught, making him unable to resist his own toothy grin.

“Jade, you are supposed to be managing the bar. And Floyd, stop that racket right now and get changed. Your shift started thirty minutes ago! And clean up that mess!” Azul ordered with a stern expression, before his eyes landed on you, his lips pursing together, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb them when they are working, prefect.”

You held your hands up defensively as you started to shimmy out of the booth. “Actually, I was just leaving.”

Your words breathed some life back into Floyd, who’d finally recovered from his laughing fit to sit up and climb out of the booth himself, a rapturous smile on his face. “I’ll walk Shrimpy to the door~!” He announced, throwing a heavy arm around your shoulders before you could rebuff him.

“Floyd! You’re supposed to be—”

“I’m terribly sorry for my negligence, Azul. I was just trying to comfort our dear customer over their recent romantic distress.” Jade chimed in, and the only way you would be able to describe the grin on his face was feral. Floyd began cackling again, using Jade’s distraction of Azul as an opportunity to whisk you away and get out of work at the same time.

You pondered whether you should feel bad for setting up Azul for at least a week’s worth of ribbing from the Leech twins as Floyd steered you towards the Octavinelle mirror, but then you remembered he put an anemone on your cat. And Ace and Deuce. Suddenly, your shoulders felt a lot lighter. Well, they would, if Floyd’s lanky arm wasn’t still around them.

Floyd kept his arm around you right until you reached the exit of the Octavinelle dorm, but you chalked it up to him being on a good mood high because of what you’d just told him and Jade. But just as you were about to duck out from under his arm, you felt his hot breath against your ear for the second time that day.

“Ne, Shrimpy. Are you allergic to eel too?”

Before you could even react, you were getting sucked up into one of those magical bubbles again as it began carrying you towards the Octavinelle mirror, your expression bewildered as you stared back at Floyd, who sent you off with a cheeky grin.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

580 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 7 months

Text

BNHA Men + Handling Scary Movies

Pairing: Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto, Kirishima, Mirio, Keigo, Dabi, Aizawa, Tomura x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, cuddles, nightmares, comfort, kissing, horror movies, crying, teasing

A/N: A tiny bit Halloween themed for the spooky month!

Izuku lets you know he hates them right away, he doesn't want to even try acting otherwise. Acting brave also goes out the window as soon as the first scary scene happens. He's not just holding your hand, he is fully in your lap, holding onto you for dear life through the whole movie. You also discover that he us indeed a screamer.

Bakugo doesn't react much to the scary scenes in the movie. In his opinion horror movies are pretty dumb, besides he could easily overpower any bad guy in the movie so there's no reason for him to be scared even if it was real. If he sees that you're scared he won't tease you about it while watching the movie, maybe after, but while you're watching he'll put his arm around you as a protective gesture.

Shoto holds your hand the whole time while feeding you popcorn with the other. The bowl doesn't even have finished popcorn, he uses his Quirk to make it which distracts you from how scary the movie you're watching really is. Good, so his plan is working as intended then, he was afraid you wouldn't want to watch it with him but you're handing it well.

Kirishima acts tough at the start but turns out to be quite jumpy at the scary scenes. His Quirk can act up too but he says it's just his instincts to protect you. Not wanting to embarrass him, even if he's being real cute, you ask him to cuddle with you cause you're scared. It works like a charm and his arms are wrapping you up against his body, his chin against your shoulder before the next scary scene can come up.

Mirio doesn't understand the appeal of scary movies. He's not opposed to watching them with you as date night but they don't have any real impact on him. Regardless he will lean in to kiss your cheek if he hears you yelp or sees you shiver in fear. These movies seem to make you quite clingy, and you already know that he is clingy too, so that is the one positive thing he can say about them.

Keigo likes horror movies but he is really selective over which ones he watches. More into the older ones that he watched as a kid if he were honest, they aren't actually scary to him but some scenes do make you jump. He uses his wings to shield your eyes when he knows a jumpscare is coming up and he also wraps one wing around you as protection.

Dabi can watch a horror movie or two but he's more in it for the chance to tease you. Even if you're not that much of a scaredy cat if you're with him it's still fun to cuddle with you and whisper in your ear about how adorable you are when you're scared. You know that nothing can touch you when he's around right? Nothing and no one... except for him.

Aizawa doesn't react to many scenes but he thinks it's entertaining for what it's supposed to be. The only thing he has against these movies is that they give you, and some of his students, nightmares so he has to walk up and down the hallway of the dorms to make sure everyone is actually sleeping. In your case he will stay up all night if he has to, holding and kissing you, wiping your scared tears away as soon as they come.

Tomura loves horror movies a lot and watches them pretty often. He will often say how stupid a plot point or a villain choice was and what he would have done but he still likes a lot of the movies he watches. They're dumb fun for him and he loves things that entertain him. It's why he loves you too, with all you funny and cute reactions and holding onto his shirt or the sleeve through the whole movie.

747 notes · View notes

circeyoru · 28 days

Text

Unwanted Soul _ Part 10 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 — Part 10 (here)

You’re sure it didn’t take a second after Alastor heard the introduction to immediately grab Kat with his many black tendrils that appeared under Kat’s feet. Her high-pitch screams made you cover your ears and and squeeze your eyes shut. At your discomfort, Alastor had a tendril wrapped around her mouth

You watched while Alastor had that raging murderous smile on his face while his eyes turned back. He threw Kat from building to building, never letting go and giving her a moment to recover. You timed a good 10 minutes before you placed a hand on Alastor’s arm to snap him out of his rage

It was considerate of him to not personally deal with her because you were still near and you two were out in the open so anything could happen. Normally, he would have torn her limb from limb and chomped down on her flesh like a piece of meat. Now this was a new method of torture

At your touch, Alastor’s head snapped to you. You pointed to a spot on the side of your head and told him Kat was marked by Vox’s servant symbol, meaning the contract she was mentioning had been one with Vox. Alastor’s grin widened even more and gave one final throw into the ground, creating a crater before releasing her from his hold

Kat gasped and groaned, trying to get up but fell back down. Slowly, she crawled her way out of the crater and ended up at your feet. You watched her with distain and pity. You honestly can’t understand why she’d take Vox’s deal, she was taken advantage of, possibility due to her having just arrived in Hell at the time and didn’t know the importance of a soul contract

“How dare you die…” Kat hissed, his hands clenched to fists. “You have no idea what I went through after that f**king stunt you pulled!”

“I’m assuming you meant you stealing My Darling’s work as your own?” Alastor glared sharply at Kat.

Kat laughed, “Hahahahaha! What kind of lies did you feed him?” She pointed a finger at you, “This f**ker let me! The b*tch was happy to write for me! I take the credit cause you don’t want the attention, remember?”

Your eyes narrowed. That’s what you told yourself all those time. You told yourself it was fine because you didn’t like all this publicity and attention. Yet the fact that you felt anger towards it meant you didn’t want to give your work to another. At least not when all this was given to someone like her

Honestly, how can she blame her later misfortune on your death? She was your best friend, shouldn’t she feel something about it? Anything? Even the slighty sadness before all this?

You gripped onto Alastor’s hand, feeling a headache and dizziness growing. You whispered that you wanted to go home

Alastor understood and with a final slap at the poor excuse of a friend across the face with his end of the cane, Alastor brought you two back to your shared room. Alastor asked if you needed anything but you merely said you needed some time alone

“If you require anything, Love. Just call me.”

“...”

Back at the crater, before Kat could recover from the blow or curse. She was swiftly pinned to the ground by the neck, a situation that was all too familiar. Sharp blade like needles stabbed into her hands and knees. Dread filled every fiber of her body as she tried to get out of the hold she’s under but her body was frozen in fear

Just like before

“Aww, The Dear Writer left so quickly… What a thoughtful bodyguard too. Nothing less will be fitting for the Dear.” The new figure cooed, their shoes applied more force on Kat’s neck, grinding her into the ground. “Don’t you agree, Faker?”

“How did you find me?” Kat shivered against the hold. “Ce— Ahhhhh!”

“Ah ah~ I think it’s only right that I have a new name down here, I’m Nemesis now.” The demon chuckled, “Not hard considering your new boss is quite infamous around the city. What with all the technology he sells, you appearing on TV was just an easy guess. Though my services aren’t required when you have this.”

Kat screamed when a sharp blade pierced into the place where Vox’s contract mark was implanted.

Nemesis’ lips curved into a twisted smile as they continued to slowly torture the screaming female. “So where can I find the Dear Writer?”

“Hazbin… Hotel…”

“Many thanks.” Nemesis’ tail pulled out the blades without warning one by one, their ear flickering at the screams while they pulled out their phone. They grinned, pressing on something, “I think you were in the spotlight of fame a bit too long down here. Let’s return you to the nothing you are.”

Over the past few days, you’ve been working non-stop making all those TVs and speakers that you promised Vox. While doing so, you tried not using your pages and used your quill to write in the air like Lucifer suggested, it took some time since the mechanism was more complex than what you tried before. Though it offer as good exercise for you

Smoothly, you somehow managed to slowly not use your quill as well and changed to using your finger to scribble words in the air before flicking at it to summon your written object. That took way more energy that you can manage because the word required energy then the conjuration required even more energy

But you managed because you needed something to distract yourself from the recent train of events and emotional burn out

Alastor’s been trying to get you to pause in your work and relax. You ignore it all together and continued, even when Alastor pulled you away and into his arms, you were motionless and repeated told him to let go so you could work. All he could do was continue to provide you with meals and reminders to rest since you were practicing and needed energy to continue

At least that got you to pull away from work. The light in your eyes was soft and dimmed, but it was better than when you were first on the verge of breaking down like a broken doll

Like before, Charlie and the others asked about you from Alastor when he was cooking your meals. It was like the time when you first arrived in the hotel, that was when you were doing it of your own volitation with Alastor as your excuse. Now, it was because you were helping the hotel and got unwanted attention

When all of Vox’s devices were being ddelivered by Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk with a hypnotic resistance charm casted on them by you, you covered yourself in a blanket and drowned yourself in music

You were exhausted physically and mentally, you wanted to push yourself even more but you knew Alastor would be against it all the way and you don’t want to push him to do forceful thing just to make you see reason. You know Alastor would feel worse than you do because of his love and devotion towards you

At the thought of that, you feel even worse that you were treating Alastor do badly. Even worse, he’s seeing this pathetic side of you. What if he leaves you? What if he thinks you’re not worth it? What if—

A familiar rhythemic knocking on your door brought you out of your thoughts. Alastor’s muffle voice came through, “Beloved.” That nickname that melted your worries and comforted you, “I think there’s someone you should meet.”

You wondered who Alastor would just let into your room, even the hotel members didn’t get that luxury and that includes Niffty because Alastor handles the maintainance of your room all on his own. You trust Alastor, “Sure, come on in.”

The door opened and someone you’re unfamiliar with rushed in while Alastor stood guard at the door after closing it shut and locking it. “I’m Nemesis, I’m a big big fan of your work! Completely obsessed really! Oh my god! Or is it oh my Lucifer now? Anyways! It’s so good to finally meet you in the flesh! Well, not flesh flesh, but this afterlife is like another life, so~”

“Nemesis. As in like revenge? Enacting retribution?” You blinked at the name, it reminds you of Alastor’s since his meant tormentor, avenger, and persecutor.

They got real close to your face as their smile spread, “Woah, truly the mind of a writer. You got my name reference.” They straightened up as they shrugged, “Other people, oops, demons only got that it’s Greek and hard to remember. Urgh, no class at all. They remember you by title too! Can you guess mine?”

Your eyebrow raised in confusion, you don’t know why this demon, Nemesis, was this causal with you. Though you figured that they had a talk with Alastor beforehand, that’s why Alastor even allowed them to be in here and talking with you. Even with close promixity

You observed Nemesis as they wanted. They were a snow leopard type of demon, with the fluffy ears on top of their head and tail behind them swishing like that of a cat’s. But you can’t tell whether it was just because it was their favourite animal, something they’re interested, or death related. Maybe something that they hate too, there was a sick irony in Hell

Your eyes traveled down to the row of white stielett-type weapons on their sides, they looked like giant dagger-sized needles but to you, they looked more like a pen. When Nemesis noticed your gaze, they took one from each side and started demonstrating to you how it was used like a performance

“The Dancing Needle.” Your lips moved and words came out before you knew it. At Nemesis’ frozen state and Alastor’s shocked face, you covered your mouth. “S—”

“How did you know?” Nemesis raved with shock, “You only observed too!”

You looked away, “It was nothing…”

Nemesis shook their head, “No way! It was amazing! If only I realized earlier…”

“Realized what?”

“That you’re the real author of that best selling novel that got so much attention.”

Nemesis went on to tell you. In the living world, they were Cecil and the editor for Karolina

During then, Cecil as an editor fell in love with the novels that Karolina had written. By some miracle, Cecil was given the chance to work as Karolina’s editor in the future and somewhat manager and caretaker since authors needed someone to ground them and since both were female, it was perfect

Over the years, Cecil noticed that Karolina was always attending public events and activities to boost popularity. It was normal, but to Cecil, it was weird that Karolina never actually sat down and written anything or researched for ideas. There was no burnout or ridiculous sleep schedules to follow and adapt to just to write a novel

Yet the requested writings were always provided and they were nearly to perfection, with minor grammar and some careless mis-spelling probably due to tiredness or being in the moment. It was an editor’s dream to work for someone like this. An author that’s famous and lively, and mostly punctual so nothing was forced or rushed to complete and do

But Cecil noticed the odd teachings and advices that Karolina would give to other people. There was nothing solid about it, it was all either the same old same old or just plain out weird to say. She had no accounts to retell, no personal examples to list. Yet she never asked Cecil for help

There was an interesting meeting that Karolina would always do. Whenever a deadline was near, Karolina would visit a friend of hers. Cecil thought it was for comfort and causal chatting at first, but every time she returns, there was more to tell on interviews and talk shows

To Cecil, it felt like someone was providing for Karolina

And Cecil was right. After the death of that friend, Karolina seemingly lost creativity and motivation. She lied on news channel that the novel was written for that friend to get through depression, she lied and painted herself as a caring and loving friend that wanted what’s best for that friend

Isn’t it odd that Karolina continues to sign contracts and appearances on screen regarding the novel? Some people requested for some detail clarification, but she denied them and said it was all secrets saved for her friend

Her friend this, her friend that. Everything was her friend, every excuse was her friend. So Cecil did some digging

Back when the first novel of the series was released, there was a buzz of a copycat that tried to steal Karolina’s work but failed. Cecil got her hands on that copy and read through it, the writing style was identicial to the later volumes that was published, the ideas that were cut off in this copy was in the later volumes

Cecil checked the statistics and comments, the first book had plotholes here and there, some even said it feels like things were missing here and there. But overall, it was still a good story. So there was a push to continue sequel to the first novel

Pages all dropped to the floor at the realization. That friend… That friend that Karolina was caring for… That friend had to be the real author of the books. It all made sense! Cecil searched online and found that that friend died, not by accident or sickness. No… Suicide…

An unfathomable rage and need for justice overtook Cecil and she was determined to see that Karolina suffers a slow and painful down. It was hard to pull it off, but somehow it was managed

Cecil pinned Karolina down with pens and cutters, then used daggers to stab all over her body without hitting any vitals. Cecil sliced words into her skin, ‘copycat’, ‘faker’, ‘liar’, ‘abuser’, and ‘murderer’. Then, Cecil decapitated Karolina’s head off of her body

Courtmeeting was given to Cecil where she used her chance to reveal it all. Who was the real author and who was the fake. Who was in the victim and who was the perpetator. Cecil announced that she is aware and admit that she done wrong, but if she could do it again, she would

The death sentence was passed down

Nemesis kneeled on their knees, looking up at you, tears flowing. “You suffered so much and no one knew or cared. Now they do, I’m included.” They held one of your hand, “So don’t knock yourself down, My Writer.”

Alastor took your other hand, placing a kiss on it, “We will deal with all your troubles so you can relax~ My Beloved.”

You can’t help but chuckled with a carefree closed-eye smile, “Oh you two…” But then your eyes snapped open and eyed the two, then focused on Nemesis. “Oh… There’s two of them now…”

Alastor and Nemesis eyed each other and smiled widely. “Whatever do you mean?”

Note: And that's the end of this arc~ Okay okay, I heard you guys loud and clear. No end yet cause you guys are willing to wait and read more. I'm taking a break from this series for a while to do other ones. But what do you think of this one?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @nevermore-ramblings @justboredforreal @youroneandonlysimp @falsemain @scenteddelusion5 @anni1600 @readergirlstuff @salutations-demonsanddappers @mistpurpl3 @haruskrd @biadoll21 @speedycoffeedelight @wendds @paninibit @emperatris-rinaka @lucifers-silhouette @an-idyllic-novelist @cyannese-rose @type-ink @saccharine-nectarine

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

251 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 7 days

Text

Bound By Fate

Jenson Button x Fem!Teammate Reader

series summery: the strings of life connect two people; teammates, friends, perhaps lovers. Even when you think you’ve gotten rid of him, the strings of life pull you back in. some things are just meant to be.

author's note: this was prompted by god knows what but this is my new passion project. jenson girlies, this one is for you. shoutout to @mev33 for losing her mind over this with me <333

bound by fate taglist!

chapter one: united front

attached at the hip, jenson button and y/n l/n are the unstoppable duo. the same soul in two bodies. all but 4 points separating them. // “where you go, I go. What you see, I see. I know I’d never be me without the security of your loving arms, keeping me from harm. Put your hand in my hand and we’ll stand.” - Skyfall by Adele

chapter two: time cast a spell on you

spending nine months with someone is a long time, especially when you’re forced to be with them. feelings grow, both good and bad. - “Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me. I know I could have I loved you but you would not let me. I’ll follow you down ‘till the sound of my voice can haunt you. Oh give it just a chance. You’ll never get away from the sound of a woman that loves you.” - Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac

chapter three: the blame is on you

two mclarens spin out, drivers at each other’s throat but only one’s to blame. what’s said on track doesn’t always stay there. - “It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse. Help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world.” - Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tear For Fear

chapter four: no grace

jenson can’t take it anymore; the back stabbing, the betrayal. he did what he thought was best and left. on what was supposed to be the happiest night of y/n’s life, she’s heartbroken and upset. — “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace, so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. You had to kill me, but it kills you just the same. Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. You turned into your worst fears and you’re tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. Crossing out the good years and you’re cursing my name, wishing I stayed.” - My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift

chapter five: the final tango

y/n and jenson find themselves front and centre, smiling for the cameras in their sunday bests, yet their hearts are in different places. - “it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. I’ve done the math, there’s no solution. We’ll never last. Why can’t I let go of this?” - Promise by Laufey

chapter six: secrets of us

when all is said and done, it’s never really over, is it? jenson spills far too much in a tell-all interview that back fires on both he and y/n. - “And you don’t seem to understand, a shame you seemed an honest man. And the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear. And you know what they say might hurt you and you know that it means so much, and you don’t even feel a thing.” - Duvet by Bôa

chapter seven: a chapter of me

four long years have passed, both y/n and jenson are in different places of life but they find themselves at Silverstone, together once again. jenson’s a commentator and y/n’s still a racer. seems the dust has settled. - “Just wanna let this story die, and i’ll be alright. We can’t be friends, but I’d like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again.” - We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande

chapter eight: a glimpse into the past

people come and go, life moves on; that has always been your view. you can’t move on when your past comes back to haunt you. - “So I ask myself, do I let you go or do I keep you in the frame of my mind? Now I’m growing wise to your sugar coated lies, nothing’s sweet about my misery. Yeah, I finally found what went wrong, i finally found the wrong in you.” - On My Mind by Jorja Smith

chapter nine: twelve steps forward, one step back

the final race of your life, mixed emotions truly. your career was one out of a movie, you’re waiting for the final shoe to drop and when it does, it hits you hard. - “Isn’t it strange? I am still me, you are still you, in the same place. Isn’t it strange how people can change from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?” - Strange by Celeste

epilogue - chapter ten: the last bow

life post retirement is a funny thing, you thought you’d be having fun but you’re bored out of your mind. a solo trip results in seeing a ghost from your past. - “I'm sure we're taller in other dimension, you say we’re small and not worth a mention. You’re tired of movin’, your body’s achin’. We could vacay, there’s places to go. Clearly this isn’t all that there is, can’t take what’s been given. But we’re so okay here, we’re doing fine.” - White Ferrari by Frank Ocean

#bound by fate series #jenson button #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jenson button x y/n #jenson button f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 series

151 notes · View notes

wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 4 months

Text

Bitter brew of change || Billy the Kid x Murphy!reader

Summary: Victoria Murphy, the niece of rancher Lawrence Murphy, invites Billy over for tea. As their encounter unfolds, Billy's defiance challenges Victoria's arrogance, sparking an unexpected internal struggle within her.

Warnings: sorry reader has a name but feel free to ignore it, reader is a bitch soz, reader smokes (not romanticising) if there's anything else lmk!

Wc: 1,223

Billy the Kid Masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

You lived in the small town of Lincoln, the niece of the influential and feared rancher Lawrence Murphy. You were known for your beauty and high status, but your demeanor left much to be desired. You lived in a lavish hacienda on the outskirts of town, your days filled with the privilege that came from your family name.

"Is it true that Billy the Kid will be working for you, uncle?" You lean forward in you seat, setting the delicate tea cup down before resting your arms on the armchair.

Major Murphy arches an eyebrow in your direction, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. "It seems you're quite curious about my affairs, dear Tori," he murmurs, a cigar nestled between his lips as he expertly lights it. As you observe, his face transforms into a canvas of pure bliss upon exhaling.

When whispers echoed through the town that Billy the Kid, the infamous outlaw, was making his way to Lincoln to join forces with your uncle, intrigue coursed through your veins. For months, tales of the daring and handsome young gunslinger had reached your ears, and what you desired most was not just to hear stories, but to talk to him face-to-face.

You casually shrug, effortlessly retrieving a cigar from your purse and igniting it with a swift movement. "I want to meet him," you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, exhaling slowly as Major Murphy chuckles in response.

"Now, just imagine what your daddy would have to say about this, Victoria. His darling daughter talking with an outlaw wanted for murder, hmm?" Murphy chuckles at his own jest, and you can't help but respond with a dismissive roll of your eyes.

"He doesn't need to know," you suggest with a mischievous glint in your eyes, casting a look at your uncle who appears to mull it over. "Please, uncle?" You flash him your most innocent puppy-dog expression, all while delicately cradling a cigar between your artfully painted fingers.

"Alright. Him and his gang are scheduled for dinner tonight, and I can arrange for you to sit across from him," Murphy concedes, succumbing to the charms you wield so effectively for your own advantage. "But let's be clear, Tori. No funny business. My brother would have my head if he discovered he laid a single finger on you under my watch," he warns, pointing a finger at you with a serious demeanor.

You rise with giddy anticipation, snatching your purse as you prepare to depart. "I promise. Thanks, Uncle," you express your gratitude before gracefully exiting his office. A mischievous smile graces your lips, and with deliberate flair, you indulge in a few draws from the toxic cigar held delicately between your fingers.

"Good mood, Miss Victoria?" James Dolan tips his hat at you upon entering the house. "Mhm, very good mod sir," You offer a pat on his shoulder, graciously handing him your cigar as you stroll past him.

"Maria, prepare my dress, won't you? I must be at my absolute best when I meet him," you exclaim with eager anticipation, tossing your head back to savor the warmth of whiskey trickling down your throat. "Certainly, miss," the young woman acknowledges with a nod, swiftly making her way to ensure your dress is impeccably arranged.

You gaze at your reflection in the mirror, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as you delicately adjust the pearls adorning your neck. You turn your head when you hear Maria walking in, her hands holding a red, squared neck dress. "Not that one," you scold, your tone commanding attention, "fetch the other red dress, the off-shoulder one!" A slight groan escapes your lips as Maria swiftly retreats to rectify her mistake.

"Perfect," escapes you in a contented sigh, your eyes tracing the flawless contours of your red dress. It hugs every curve, accentuating your delicate collarbones and enhancing your chest. "Don't I just look perfect?" With a confident turn, you catch the discreet glances exchanged between Maria and the other servants in the room.

"I asked a question and expect an answer-" "You look perfect, miss," "Very beautiful, miss," "You look gorgeous, miss," You revel in satisfaction at their replies, a smile playing on your lips as you turn back around, hands gliding smoothly down the contours of your dress.

"Billy has never seen a more perfect, gorgeous lady until tonight, aren't I right, Maria?" You drawled as the women furiously nods, opening her mouth to speak, "Billy will be speechless, miss."

"Exactly right. Billy will be speechless," You muse with a self-satisfied smile. "Ready my carriage, I'll be leaving soon," you announce, the silk gloves slipping effortlessly over your hands.

Amidst a gathering of distinguished women, you found yourself scanning the room, anticipating the sight of him. And there he was. A radiant gleam filled your eyes as you absorbed his commanding presence—his penetrating gaze and an aura that effortlessly commanded attention—while he entered with his gang of cowboys trailing behind.

The crowd falls silent for a moment, collectively recognizing the arrival of the infamous gunslinger. Swiftly, you navigate through the body of people, skillfully making your way to your uncle, who was comfortably seated on the couch, surrounded by his associates.

"Sorry to interrupt, gentleman. I need to speak to my uncle," you graciously interject, offering a charming smile as Murphy stands up. "Yes, Tori?" You grip his arm, your eyes on Billy across the room as he drinks alongside his gang, his eyes wandering around the room.

"There he is." You tilt your head in Billy's direction. "Mind introducing me to him?" Your eyes eagerly meet your uncle's, who sighs but nevertheless complies, setting his glass of whisky down on the table.

"Billy!" Your uncle calls out as you follow behind him. "Meet my lovely niece. She lives just outside town," Major Murphy presents you with a smile. Your eyes sparkle with admiration as you take in his appearance up close.

You extend a gloved hand, "Victoria Murphy," You introduce yourself with a touch of formality, though you heart was racing beneath the façade. Billy, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, takes your hand with a respectful nod.

"Billy, ma'am," he replies, his voice low and drawling. His eyes lingered on yours as well as his hold on your hand for a moment longer than was proper. A flush of red creeps up on your cheek as you clear your throat, retracting your hand.

Adorned in a striking strapless dress, you patiently waited for the arrival of Billy. You had invited him to you house for morning tea last night. As Billy entered the Murphy hacienda, he couldn't help but notice your calculated charm.

You greeted him with a smirk, and it was evident that you enjoyed the effect you had on him. The mansion was adorned with opulence, a stark contrast to the humble dwellings of the townsfolk.

"Elena, go bring us tea," You sternly spoke to the newly employed maid who scrambles off. Billy watches the interaction with a slight furrow of his eyebrows before he sets his eyes back on you with a charming smile.

During the evening, your treatment of your Spanish maids became apparent. Your demands were met with silent obedience, and the atmosphere in the hacienda was one of subservience. Despite the discomfort in the air, Billy remained composed, observing the dynamic at play.

"Mr. Bonney, won't you have a seat?" You gestured towards an ornate chair. Billy nodded graciously, "Billy's fine," he smiles briefly, his eyes lingering on the elegant surroundings. As he settled into the chair, you took a seat across from him.

"So, Billy, how do you like it here in Lincoln," You gaze at him as you readjust your dress. Billy's eyes couldn't help but let his eyes wander down to your chest as you tug it up. Clearing his throat, he opens his mouth, "It's lovely here," he nods, eyes wandering around the room.

You slowly nodding, Billy was a man of few words. "Light my cigarette, will ya?" You reach for a cigar before nestling it in between you painted lips and leaning over for him to light the other end. Your eyes move to the doors that opened revealing Elena. "Tea?" You inquired, flicking the ash into the ash tray, as Elena comes closer to the two of you. As she comes closer, you notice her shaking.

The delicate porcelain cup trembled in her hands and you couldn't help the scowl that made it to your face. She nervously looks at you and then Billy—who notices her nervousness, offers her a friendly smile.

Her hands shakily attempt to put the teacup and teapot set down on the table, the shaking of the porcelain being the only source of noise. "Oh for goodness sake, Elena, just put it down-"

Billy, watching you was caught off guard when a cascade of hot liquid spilled onto his lap. Your face contorted with anger as you stood up, Elena lets out a gasp, furiously apologising.

"I am so sorry. I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to-" Elena stammered as her hands frantically try to wipe the hot liquid off Billy's jeans as your breathing became heavier with embarrassment.

Billy catches Elena's hands in his, "Hey- it's okay, 'm fine." Billy shrugs and offers her a smile. "Elena. You may go," You walk over to her, your hand grasping her forearm as she stumble.

"You've embarrassed me enough today," you harshly say to her, closing the door on her face, though your harsh words reached Billy's listening ear.

Billy, feeling the sting of the scalding tea, looked at you with a cool gaze. "There's no need to treat her like that," he said calmly. Unaccustomed to defiance, you scoffed.

"And why not? They're my maids, I pay them, so I can treat them however I want," You cross your arms in front of your arms, head tilted to the side slightly.

Billy's response was measured yet firm. "'Cause it's not right. We're all human, deserving of respect. You felt a mixture of annoyance and intrigue. Here was a man who didn't bow to her every whim. She'd be lying if she said her attraction to Billy, wasn't fueled by the unexpected clash of wills.

You took a long drag, maintaining eye contact with Billy, attempting to decipher him. "You're quite different, Billy," You comment, as he tilts his head at your words. "Am I? Why? Because I think it's wrong that you treating your maids poorly?" You see a glint of rage in his icy blue eyes.

“Because you openly tell me this. A proper man would keep it to himself and let a woman like myself do as she pleases. After all, a household thrives on order, and as the woman of this house, I run it how I please." Your voice carried an authoritative resonance, unwavering even under Billy's icy gaze.

"I'm an outlaw, baby," he drawled as you narrow your eyes at him, "outlaws aren't considered proper men," he leans forward in his seat, his blue eyes boring into yours before he downs the already cold tea.

In the quiet moments that followed, Billy's presence became a subtle challenge to your accustomed lifestyle. He spoke of a different way of life, one where strength and honor were not measured by the wealth one possessed. Yo were torn between your attraction to Billy and the expectations placed upon you, you found yourself grappling with conflicting emotions.

"Your beauty is undeniable, Victoria," his sudden words of compliment cause you to look up at him. "But your arrogance and mistreatment of others make you ugly," he remarked, his eyes piercing at you.

You, unused to facing such truths, felt a mixture of anger and vulnerability. You wanted to dismiss his words, to maintain a façade of invincibility, but a part of you longed for something more genuine.

At high noon, Billy prepared to leave the Murphy hacienda. You stood on the steps of your threshold, looking at Billy with a mixture of defiance and longing. Billy, sensing the internal struggle within you, offered a parting piece of advice.

"You're a good girl, Victoria. Don't let your stubbornness and pride get into the way of being a decent human being," with those words lingering in the air, Billy rode off, leaving a conflicted woman on the steps of the Murphy hacienda. The echoes of their encounter resonated through the town, a subtle reminder that even the toughest hearts could be swayed by the winds of change.

191 notes · View notes

raichoose-gone · 2 years

Text

“That probably beats the Georgia version: moonshine and cow-tipping.”

#return of the milk icon ...#and all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear. ( J O N A T H A N )#welcome to the show. ( I C )#a hero's gonna save me just in time. ( V )#i heard it through the grapevine. ( C O M M E N T A R Y )#thelittlestdemon #live action fc tw #alcohol tw

10 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 10 months

Text

Voiceless - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Summary: As the princess of the realm, the gates of the world are open to you. But after one fateful night, everything seems to change for you.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Another story, requested by a dear Anon (: Thank you for this request!

I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Warnings: Violence, blood, fluff

Word count: 3.5 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You lean your body against the wall and feel the coldness of the walls flow through your body, while distant echoes reach your ears. The graceful footsteps of servants echo through the corridors, accompanied by soft conversations that float delicately in the air. You hold your breath anxiously and remain hidden, fearing that the slightest sound might betray your presence. Only when the whispers have faded and you are sure they are gone do you let out a sigh of relief and the tension in your chest eases.

With newfound courage, you carefully disengage yourself from the wall. With a deliberate step, you walk through the winding corridors of Driftmark Castle. The dimly lit corridors, a secret labyrinth of shadows and secrets, bear witness to your clandestine excursion. Unnoticed by the outside world, you have escaped from your chambers, driven by a longing to glimpse the heavens once more before returning to the turbulent confines of King's Landing.

You have heard much of the island's enchanting night sky, where the stars appear with effortless brilliance, undisturbed by the burdens of a densely populated city. In this vast expanse of darkness, the stars shine, casting their celestial glow on the calm waters that surround the shores. And so, driven by this longing, you navigate the corridors of the castle, propelled by an inexplicable pull towards the sky that dances above the shores of Driftmark.

The day was accompanied by sadness and cast a shadow over the hours that passed. Your mother urged you and your brothers to be moderate. You were not supposed to frolic, but just stay by your family's side. So you and your brothers mostly just stood around nodding and smiling at the adults occasionally. But all you really wanted to do was frolic in the dunes with Aemond.

Today was the sad occasion of Laena Velaryon's funeral, a painful spectacle. Her daughters Baela and Rhaena have your full sympathy. The very thought of suffering such a devastating loss as that of your own mother Rhaenyra sends a shiver down your spine.

Lost in thought, you approach the exit of the castle. Your reverie was abruptly interrupted, however, and you were jolted back to reality as you perceive low murmurs that soon swelled to a tumultuous clamour. The echoes of discontent turned into cries of frustration and carried the weight of a brewing tantrum. You quicken your steps and approach the source of the uproar, only to be abruptly stopped.

You thought you were the only one awake. Yet here are your brothers standing in front of Aemond and they are shouting at each other. Baela and Rhaena are behind your brothers. You notice immediately that no one is standing next to Aemond. You walk towards the group, but no one seems to be paying attention to you.

"What's going on here? Jace?" you ask.

Jace finally turns his head to you, "Go back to bed, y/n!" he says to you.

But you don't listen to him. You walk on and stand next to Aemond. You see the corners of Aemond's mouth pull up briefly and barely noticeably.

"What's going on here?" you ask again.

"Aemond has claimed Vhagar! Vhagars is our mother's dragon!" shouts Rhaena.

Your eyes grow wide. 'Aemond has what?‘ – immediately pops into your mind. But you can't help feeling a little proud for Aemond.

"Your mother is dead," Aemond says suddenly. Your head snaps to the side, "Aemond!" you hiss.

But Aemond seems to pay you no mind, "Vhagar has a new rider now!" he says proudly.

"It was my right to claim her!" retorts Rhaena.

Before Aemond can reply, you lightly take his arm and try to pull him back a little. You know that arguments between them can escalate quickly.

"Rhaena... it is not written down anywhere who can claim which dragon and when..." you say quietly. "Dragons decide for themselves who they want as a rider," you say a little more confidently now.

Rhaena gives you an angry look, "How would you know? Has your mother died yet? Have you had any experience with who claims her dragon?" she hisses at you.

You are a little startled and take a small step back.

"Shut your filthy mouth," chimes in Aemond and suddenly he shoves you behind him.

"Maybe your cousins will find a pig for you to ride. It would suit you," he says with a sneer.

Rhaena suddenly goes for Aemond, but he grabs her and pushes her to the ground. When Baela suddenly stands in front of him and punches him in the face. He didn't expect that, he goes down. You cry out slightly.

As if of your own accord, you suddenly stand next to Baela and push her away to keep her away from Aemond.

Aemond gets back up, looking hateful. He has clenched his hands into fists and is breathing heavily.

"Attack me again and I'll feed you to my dragon!" he says angrily but still with pride.

You look to him, "Don't do that Aemond..," you say quietly.

He looks at you, his gaze softening a little. But he is immediately distracted again when he notices Jace coming towards him.

But it's too late, Jace punches him square in the face. You cry out.

"No! Jace!" you scream, trying to pull him away, but Jace just shoves you aside. He tries to hit Aemond again. He punches several times in Aemond's direction, but to no avail. Aemond deflects each blow. Until Aemond kicks at Jace and he simply goes down.

Suddenly there is a scream from Luke and he tries to go for Aemond. But Aemond just punches him in the face.

"Aemond!" you shout, and run to Luke, who is on the floor. His nose is bleeding and he is whimpering softly. You try to comfort him.

When you turn back to Aemond, you see the others coming at him. Aemond is lying on the ground and the others are standing over him. They kick and hit him. You stroke Luke's head once more before running back over to the others. You get hold of Rhaena's hair and pull her away from Aemond. She struggles, but you push her away, "Stop it now!" you shout at her.

Jace turns to you briefly when he hears you scream. But at that moment Aemond kicks him to the ground again.

Aemond stands again, breathing heavily. Luke goes towards him, but Aemond just grabs him by the collar. Suddenly you notice him holding a rock in his other hand and raising it menacingly. You are too frightened to react.

"You will die in the flames, just as your father did!" he hisses at Luke.

You just gasp out, "Aemond! Stop that right now!"

But Aemond is too angry to even notice anything else

"Bastards," he says hatefully.

"Aemond! Are you out of your mind?" you say angrily. You walk towards the two of them. Luke just whimpers softly, "But my father is still alive..," he says quietly.

Aemond looks surprised, "He doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong?" he says.

"Aemond. Stop it right now," you say to him again.

Luke has tears in his eyes

But suddenly Aemond pushes you to the ground and now you're irritated, but then you see Jace coming at Aemond with a dagger. It takes you too long to process this.

But then Aemond hits Jace with the stone. You get up and go back to Aemond, wanting to pull him away from the group, "Stop that, Aemond! Come with me" you shout.

You turn back to Jace and at that moment you feel a searing pain. You grab your neck and your hands are instantly wet. You hear a blade fall to the floor. You immediately look to Aemond in panic, tears are in your eyes. You are in pain and you start breathing faster. You can't scream and you panic even more. But instead Aemond screams.

"I will let you burn!!! You will die for this!!!" he screams over and over. You slump down and cry silently.

"No!", Aemond shouts and is immediately at your side.

"It's going to be alright! Y/n! Please..," Aemond says almost pleadingly.

"Y/n!" shouts Jace as he realises what he has done, kneeling beside you as well.

Aemond stands back up. He breathes heavily and feels an incomprehensible rage inside him. The rage inside him feels like nothing he has ever felt before. He still has the stone in his hand. He lets his gaze wander to the stone as his chest rises and falls, heavier and faster, again and again. He raises his hand and wants to hit Jace with the stone.

When all of a sudden Luke yells out. At the high-pitched scream, you look up. He has the blade in his hand and swings it.

Aemond notices too late, but suddenly he screams out and holds his eye. You have never heard such a pained scream. You push Jace away from you, desperately trying to crawl over to Aemond. By now your hands are covered in blood and dust, your own pain completely forgotten. You kneel by Aemond's side and are only distantly aware of Jace shouting at Luke. It slowly dawns on both of them what they have done. Rhaena and Baela stand terrified in the corner, not daring to say anything.

You, on the other hand, want to say something. You try to speak. You open your mouth and try to force words out of you. But no matter how hard you try, your throat only hurts. Every time you try to say something, it feels like nails are being driven into your throat and more blood runs down your throat. The front of your dress is now soaked with your blood.

You grab Aemond by the shoulder and try to turn him towards you. As he lies on his back, he whimpers and you see more blood. Your whimpering mingles with his and you let out a soundless scream. His blood mixes with yours on your dress as you lean down and try to embrace him.

Suddenly the Kingsguard comes running.

Tears run down your face. But the tears are not an expression of pain, but of helplessness. Because Aemond lies screaming on the ground and you can do nothing to help him. His hand covers his left eye. More and more blood seeps through between his fingers.

You are only distantly aware of being taken aside, you only have eyes for Aemond.

Everything happens so quickly. And the next moment you are in the throne room. The wound over Aemond's eye is being stitched. He is sitting on a chair and a maester is standing in front of him. You are lying on a couch with two maesters bending over you. You have been given poppy juice and are light-headed. After the bleeding has stopped, your throat will be stitched. Tears keep running down your face. When the maesters have finished, you turn your head to Aemond. You see him contort his face in pain as the maester applies the needle. You try to sit up, but the maesters push you back.

"You should lie down for a while, princess," says one of the maesters.

You want to answer, but when you open your mouth, no words pass your lips.

The maesters cast a meaningful glance at each other. At that moment your mother comes storming into the throne room. She goes worriedly to your brothers and hugs them briefly. But quickly she continues to look around, her eyes searching for you. And then she sees you and horror is written all over her face.

She comes rushing towards you.

"Y/n!" she calls. With her soft hands she takes your face in her hands.

"My girl, what's wrong?" but you can't answer and that scares you even more. Tears well up in your eyes. Your mother looks at the maesters, "What is going on? Why can't my daughter speak?" she asks demandingly.

And then the maesters explain to her that you will probably never be able to speak again.

"A silent princess...", your mother murmurs with tears in her eyes.

Some years have passed since then and you have come to terms with the situation as best you can. The scar on your throat has healed completely, but it still makes you uncomfortable. In the evening, you sit in front of the mirror and apply ointments to the scar, hoping that one day it will hardly be visible. But you can't stand the sight of it for long.

Usually the scar is covered with a scarf to hide it from prying eyes. You are very ashamed of it and it burdens you even more that you can never speak to the lords and ladies of the court. Nevertheless, you have learned to observe your surroundings carefully and to notice the smallest changes.

But this has also led to increasing isolation. Still, Aemond can be found by your side most of the time. Even before the accident you had felt a certain closeness to each other, but now you are connected because of your shared loss. Aemond shares much of his day with you, telling you about the books he is reading. Sometimes he even assures you that you are not missing anything by not taking part in the conversations at court, as they are all trivial and boring.

And you answer him tirelessly with the art of writing. Every morning, when the busy maids help you to dress, you carefully tie a small roll of parchment around your wrist. In a tiny pocket that you have carefully attached to your dress is a precious piece of charcoal. These humble tools serve as channels for your communication.

On this roll of parchment you write all the feelings and thoughts you wish to convey. Your bold and solemn as well as sometimes cheeky responses find their eternal place on this paper that will forever go down in history. Somehow you like the idea that everything you share will be recorded. Unless, in a fit of frustration, Aemond throws your cheeky answers into the nearest fire and tries to give you an annoyed look. Then you can't help a slight chuckle.

Over the years, feelings have been stirring within you. You have watched Aemond grow into an impressive young man. Even in his clothes you notice the muscular development of his body through his hard training. This thought pleases you immensely. Sometimes you cannot suppress a giggle when you meet him after training - sweaty and breathing heavily. Aemond then looks at you in confusion, but you just shake your head as your cheeks redden slightly.

Likewise, you enjoy your quiet moments together. You just sit together then, giving each other comfort. Just as you suffer from your scar, Aemond suffers from the scar that adorns his face. And he cannot cover it as easily as you can cover yours. But your conscience still torments you often because you could not protect Aemond back then. You may have lost your voice, but Aemond has lost half his sight. Since birth, he has had to fight for everything he has, and it seems that nothing will ever change. But the fact that you could not prevent your brothers from going against Aemond and that he had to give up his eye for it, eats away at you and gnaws at your inner self.

When the overwhelming feeling spreads through you, you do not even seem worthy to enjoy his presence or attention. As you stand in the training yard one day, your thoughts are once again corroded by this guilt. An uneasy state fills your chest and a pressure makes itself felt. Suddenly, however, you are torn from your thoughts. Aemond stands before you and a smile adorns his face.

"I have not seen you at all today," he says softly and his smile widens.

You smile too and take your small roll of parchment in your hand.

"I've been hiding from you," you hold out to him on the paper.

He chuckles briefly and suddenly holds out a small flower to you

"I saw this and thought of you," he says softly. With delicate grace, his fingertips caress a delicate strand of your hair and gently stroke it behind your ear. As if guided by nature's whisper, he lovingly nestles a flower in your curls and adorns you with an enchanting touch.

You are overwhelmed by the sheer grace of his gentleness

"Will you wait for me until the training is over?", Aemond asks you, but your mind drifts, deaf to his words.

The suffocating weight in your chest persists and grows stronger. It feels almost unbearable that he has such endearing qualities and showers you with care while you have been powerless to protect him from the clutches of your own brothers who are responsible for his painful loss.

"Y/n?", Aemond asks you again to get your attention.

"I can't read your mind yet, you have to write it down," he says teasingly.

But your eyes suddenly fill with tears – Aemond's gaze instantly panics.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" he asks. He wants to caress the softness of your cheek to soothe you. Unfortunately, fate intervenes and as he reaches out to caress your cheek, you turn and hurry away. Aemond is visibly irritated, but he cannot resist and follows you.

"Hey! Y/n, what's wrong?", Aemond calls after you.

You walk into the gardens and wipe away your tears.

By the rose bushes, Aemond reaches you and grabs you almost gently by the arm. He turns you towards him and you look at him.

"Hey..." he says gently, wiping away your tears.

"Tell me what's wrong," he adds.

You hesitate at first. But then sob quietly and then take the parchment in your hand.

"I'm sorry," you write simply.

Aemond reads these words again and again. His eye dart over the paper, as if he wants to grasp something that is between the lines and still eludes his eye.

"What exactly do you want to apologise for?" he asks you quietly after a while.

You sob quietly and start writing again.

"That I could not prevent it," he reads next.

Again his eye dart over the paper several times.

He looks up, "That you couldn't prevent what exactly?" he asks you.

Now you are starting to look annoyed.

"Pardon me, y/n, I can't figure it out," he says.

You write again, "I thought you were smart?" reads Aemond this time.

He looks up at you again.

"What's bothering you?" he says and sighs.

You start again

"I couldn't stop Luke from taking your eye. I left you alone, so to speak... It still gnaws at my conscience," with each word Aemond reads, his lips move slightly. He slowly looks up at you.

"You silly... It's not your fault I lost my eye after all... You didn't swing the dagger," Aemond says softly.

But you shake your head and start writing again.

"I should have stopped Jace and Luke... I could have done more. I should have just taken you and walked away with you. Neither of us would have been hurt. You could still see with both eyes and I wouldn't have to write on those stupid pieces of paper. I don't deserve your attention," you hold out to him on the paper.

Tears well up in your eyes again and as Aemond looks back up, shaking his head slightly.

"No," he says simply, taking your face in his hands.

"No. It's not your fault," he says to you. With his thumb he gently wipes a tear from your cheek.

"If it hadn't been for you, far more would have happened. Perhaps one of us wouldn't be alive," he says to you.

You want to shake your head again, but his hands won't let you.

"I don't care how much you resist... it's not your fault and you are the only person on this cursed earth who deserves my attention," he says softly.

You notice him slowly lean forward. Your breath catches and before you realise what is happening, his soft lips are on yours. Gently they nestle around your lips. You close your eyes and give in to the feeling.

His tongue explores yours and the feeling of being so close to him is as sweet as a warm summer day. You feel the warmth emanating from him and it envelops you completely.

After a short time, Aemond releases his lips from yours. He leans his forehead against yours.

"Don't ever think like that again... You saved my life... In that horrible night and afterwards... When you were always by my side," he whispers, his lips inches from yours. You just smile and let your lips meet his again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @believeinthefireflies95

548 notes · View notes

bump1nthen1ght · 8 months

Text

Made For Love (Incubus x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Sex worker!Incubus x GN!Reader

Warnings: Explicit content ahead! (18+ ONLY), Loss of Virginity, Spanking, Unsafe Sex (wrap it before you tap it folks)

Word Count: 2098 words

Summary: Sick and tired of waiting, you decide you’re ready to finally lose your virginity. Lucky for you, a friend of yours has a tantalizing suggestion on how to do so…

A/N: Ok so this was ORIGINALLY supposed to be a short drabble ( <1000 words) for Kinktober, but as y’all can tell I went into a writing frenzy and it became a full fic. Please forgive any typos, as the horniest muse ever possessed me as I typed and edited this and I’m too impatient not to post it lol. Hope y’all enjoy!

(P.S. Sex Work is Work and all sex workers deserve to be treated with respect. Do not necessarily take this fic as a completely accurate depiction of how sex work is performed. Nevertheless, enjoy some sweetness)

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.”

The motel room you find yourself in is surpisingly homely. The flickering overheads have been turned off and replaced by soft lavender fairy lights strung around the bed frame. Cheap and stiff blankets have been neatly folded and put away in the closet, the bed now decorated with a big fluffy duvet and several plush pillows. Some candles have been lit and placed on the nearby desk.

“It's Joranez, right? Want to make sure I’m saying that correctly.”

“That’s right, but you can call me Jora, darling.” He winks, taking hold of both your hands, holding them to his chest. The action isn’t very intimate, but it can’t help but send a hot blush across your face. Jora is stunningly attractive, his silken hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His purple skin is flawless, shiny just like his horns, which curl and twist upwards. His smile is charming, sharp canines seeming so friendly despite everything.

“Is this okay?” Jora whispers, rubbing a thumb across the back of your palm. You nod, letting your fingers unfurl and touch the bare skin of his chest. “Do you remember the safe words, the ones in the email?”

“Y- yes. Lime for go, strawberry for stop.” You take a deep breath. “A-and banana for slow down.”

A clawed hand runs across your cheek, goosebumps running down yiur heck as Jora draws even closer. His breath brushes across your face, his yellow eyes glowing in the low light. Even though he’s a stranger, you can’t help but feel very safe.

“Good pet. Now, shall we get started?”

—

Jora had been recommended to you by a mutual friend, one of your best friends actually; Rory. She worked nights at a sex hotline and Jora often took shifts there during the drier months of the year. From what she had told you he was highly requested and had great reviews, known for perfectly crafting whatever mood or scenario his customers wanted. You had asked if it would be weird, sleeping with someone she knows so personally, but Rory had quickly quieted your fears. If anything it was better, as she knew you’d be in great hands and she was often quite protective.

So Rory gave you his work number and you scheduled the appointment to lose your virginity.

Given how you’re feeling right now, you think you made the right decision.

“You make such beautiful noises, dear.” Jora whispers in your ear, his long tongue licking up your trembling neck. “I’d love to hear more.”

He gets his wish, a moany breath leaving as he scissors his fingers inside of you, pads pressing hard on your outer walls. He chuckles, a warm sound that only makes your body hotter.

How easily he was able to undo you. You lay naked in his lap, legs spread wide and chest heaving with each breath. Sweat drips down your collarbone and your skin feels on fire, every soft touch and caress leaving tingles across your body. The duvet provides just enough purchase for you to dig your fingers into, still too shy to yank on Jora’s open robe.

The pleasant ache as Jora stretches you open on his finger was far better than you imagined, probably far better than some random hookup would have provided you. Starting with one, now two, he’s somehow slowly unraveled your senses. Now you sit as a putty ball of pleasure in his lap, all for him to treat.

Guess I’m a sub. You joke in your head, though you already had a suspicion before this. Or maybe Jora is just such a master of control that anyone falls to their knees in front of him. It wouldn’t surprise you.

“How about three?” Jora whispers in your ear, waiting for your timid nod before sinking a third finger inside you. He splays them out, stretching out your walls before resuming to thrust. Black and white spots speckle behind your eyelids, that burn in your gut only growing hotter. “So good pet, you’re doing fantastic.” Jora plants a soft peck on your temple, his free hand rubbing affectionate circles into your hips. Said hips jerk and spasm on his digits, desperate for more.

“I t-think…” You whimper, somehow still shy as this incubus is literally inside of you. “I think I’m ready for you c-cock.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jora teases, flexing his fingers again. “I think so too, lovely.”

Jora is slow and methodical as he pulls his fingers out of you, gently coaxing your hips to flip you around. Your shaky legs straddle his lap, Jora giving another gentle kiss to your lips. He grinds against you, getting a squeak and a shiver.

Jora begins to sit up, pushing you onto your back and adjusting for missionary position, but you stop him with hand to his chest.

“Actually, could we do Doggy style?” You request, somehow not stuttering your way through it.

Jora’s eyes widen, but its accompanied by a delighted smirk.

“Of course.”

With another gentle press to your hips, Jora flips you onto your stomach. A strong palm smoothes down your lower back, arching it into his hips as he adjusts himself. You can hear the sound of the lube bottle as Jora gets more, rubbing it over your entrance. A heated presence presses up against your hole, throbbing and slick. Even without seeing it, you can tell Jora is quite well endowed.

“Tell me if it hurts to much, okay dearie?”

You give a simple “uh-huh.”, trying to decide if you want to shove your face in the covers or stare into the void of the motel room.

Your brain decides for you, biting your lip and clenching your eyes when Jora finally begins to slide in you.

It doesn’t hurt, thank goodness, but it is a little…unusual. It’s a fullness where you didn’t even realize there was emptiness. As Jora goes further, you get the stretch in places you've never reached before, not with fingers or even a dildo. The unexplored is extra sensitive, your hips spasming as Jora eventually bottoms out inside you. He swivels his hips, the head of his cock brushing against something that feels amazing.

A clawed hand rubs your scalp, reaching down to pat your cheek. You can feel Jora’s body heat as he leans his chest closer, his robe rolled down his shoulders to expose his bare skin. “How does that feel?”

“Good.” You mutter, digging your face half into the covers. The noises bubbling in your throat are so whiny, so debauched, you can’t help but try to tamp them down. “You can m-move. Slowly.”

“Of course, dear.”

Jora sits up, grabbing gently onto the fat of your hips. The bed shifts as he pulls out halfway, before gently thrusting upward. You gasp, a strange sensation shooting up your stomach. Jora chuckles, pulling back slowly again. That emptiness feels wrong now, it feels incomplete.

“Faster, p-please.”

Jora must nod, though you didn't see it. His fingers dig into your sides, not enough to even leave a mark, and he begins humping in earnest.

Those noises you tried to suppress become impossibly loud, even in shaky breaths and moans. Bed springs squeak underneath you, the slap of Jora’s hips against yours sending a hot sensation down your legs. It's so lewd, but it feels so right.

“You feel amazing.” Jora moans. “Such a tight hole, all for me.” Jora speeds up a bit, met with your eager hips throwing backwards on his cock. “And a pretty face on top.”

All you can do is bite your lip, feeling a hit blush as Jora lavishes you with compliments. His pelvis pounds against your ass, toned muscle meeting the plush flesh. Jora begins to fondle the fat, giving it a light pat, holding back for your sake.

“Please slap my ass.” You whine, getting an extra eager thrust from Jora in response. You can’t see it, but you’re sure he’s smirking.

“You’re wish is my command.”

Jora’s palm meets the skin with a resounding slap, enough to jiggle your cheeks and surely to leave a mark, but you doubt it’s as hard as he can go.

“H-harder, please.”

Jora hums, rubbing the spot he just hit.

“Surprisingly naughty, aren’t you?” This time Jora reels back his hand and gives you a proper spank, enough to send your lower half forward. You weren’t quite sure what to expect, but you didn’t realize how good the stinging could feel. “I love it, you want some more?” Jora gyrates his hips, pressing his cockhead to the very deepest parts of you.

“Yes, yes!” You barely reocgnize your voice, keening and desperate. The moans as Jora slaps your ass again are depraved, downright erotic. He switches hands and slaps your other ass cheek, taking a moment to squeeze and fondle the fat afterwards. He begins to alternate his slaps, using the other hand to hold onto your hips and yank you back onto his cock. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he’s picked up the pace, each thrust reaching your guts at a quick speed. You can hear the slap of Jora’s balls as they hit your underside.

“You’re so gorgeous.” Jora purrs, voice so composed you wouldn’t even realize’s he’s blowing your back out. “Don’t you want to see yourself?”

Jora must see your brows furrow, cause he leans down and tilts your jaw forward. “Look up, dear.”

Opening your hazy eyes, you notice a full-length mirror in front of you both. It hadn’t been there before, or so your cock-drunk mind remembers, and you wonder if Jora had moved it in place with some minor magic. He was an incubus, after all.

But those thoughts come second to seeing how unraveled your look. Your face is flushed, sweat beading on your forehead. Your back is so arched you can see the way your ass jiggles with every thrust. Not to mention Jora, whose pony is slowly coming undone, looking like a literal Adonis. His sultry gaze burns in to you, toned chest and abs flexing with his humps. He had been so sweet at the beginning, but it seems your naughtiness has drawn out his mischievous side; He wears a big smirk, biting his lip and admiring the naughty picture you make in the mirror.

“See? Just as I told you-” Jora gives a particularly hard thrust and stars shoot across your vision, “-gorgeous.”

Your entire lower half feels lit up, a faint buzz going all the way down to your toes as your abdomen grows tighter and tighter. It’s so similar yet so different from when you’ve masturbated before. The coming climax feels hotter, more explosive, like a high you’ve only dreamed about.

Jora can tell, either with his specially-tuned senses or by the way your hole clenches. “Close, love?”

All you can do is nod, tongue lolled out with a mind too far gone. You’re thankful Jora had the wherewithall to ask where you’d like him to come at the start, as you have no way of giving an answer now.

“That's right, cum for me. I want to see you.”

That’s all it takes, the knot splitting in an instant as you come with Jora’s cock deep inside you. You can see him clench his eyes shut as your hole milks him, just pulling out in time to cum all over your back.

The next few minutes are a bit hazy. Your legs had collapsed under you, your brain thoroughly cock drunk and trying to reboot. Jora, ever the professional, quickly recuperated. He rubbed soft circles into your lower back, leaning over to get some cleaning wipes. You vaguely remember him flipping you onto your back, tilting your chin up and giving you some water. The sensation of the back of his knuckles, brushing along the side of your face comes to mind as you sipped.

“Good dearie.” Jora gives you a peck in the cheek. “You did so well, love. I’m happy I was able to share this with you.”

Jora is sweet and leta you take plenty of time to rest and come back to yourself, giving you another kiss and his card on your way out.

“If you ever want to be naughty again, love.”

You walked out with a tired yet enthusiastic pep in your step.

You definitely owe Rory one.

#my writing #reader insert #gender neutral insert #monster x reader #incubus x reader #monster romance

364 notes · View notes

ch3rriiii-bunn · 11 months

Text

High risk

"Cherry don't you dare make a fanfic of Urogi fucking y/n in the sky" I did. Now what? What are you going to do💀🧍🏾‍♀️

Warnings: fem!reader, demon slayer reader, public sex, pure smut in this, shy fucking💀, dirty talk, comedy ig😭, not proof read

"Urogi- fuck we can't do this here. I'm on patrol. " You angrily tell your demon boyfriend who showed up on your watch zone along with your fellow slayers. "But I couldn't wait until you got homee" he whines, using his claws to grab at your waist and grind his cock against you.

"You're such a tease." You bit your lip, and Urogi smirks at you, lifting up your skirt to and ripping off your panties with his talons. He sticks out his tounge, keeping eye contact as he starts to lick at your clit, giving kitten licks before giving you long licks and sucking your folds. "Still mad at me," he asked.

You felt his smug smirk, but you shook your head anyway, grabbing onto his long hair, getting aroused as he eats you out. You were so lost in the pleasure that you failed to notice the voices approaching you until it got closer to snap you back to reality. It's two demon slayers that were heading towards you and Urogi on your patrol.

"Urogi, Urogi stop." You push his head back. He looked at you surprised, forgetting how strong you were but giggles. "So you've noticed them? Who care if they see us. The fun are just getting started, baby, " Urogi said, wanting to kiss you, but you slap your hand on his mouth and whisper yelling "yes actually it is! You're a demon, and I'm a demon slayer. Do you realize we will both be in trouble!?" You said, looking over to make sure you aren't noticed.

"I hate when the mood is spoiled... I should just kill those slayers, but I have a better idea, " Urogi said, and before you could even process what was going on, your feet were lifted from the found and high up in the sky. "Are you insane!?" You yelled at the top of your lungs, holding onto Urogi for dear life.

Urogi only laughs while flying in the sky with you. "we are away from the slayer! So let's have some real fun. " he sticks out his tongue and somehow manages to thrust his cock inside you. You gasped, both scared from how high you were flying and cock already going so deep inside.

"This is crazy- fuck" you moaned, oddly feeling good from Urogi's thrusts while he soar through the sky. Urogi maoned, followed by a laugh. "Are you sucking me in this tight because you're turned on or scared from falling?" he snaps his hips harder, watching you wrap your arms and legs around him tightly as your head falls back.

"You're insane- aah~ haa you're so fucking insane" you repeated, closing your eyes from the pleasure and fear being high up in the sky but Urogi kisses you, making you look at him "that's it, fuck~ keep those pretty eyes on me" he moans "hold me tighter, d-dont drop me" you beg and Urogi kisses your lips "I would never drop my pretty girlfriend" he said and deepens the kiss.

Urogi didn't stop flying until you both reached your high cumming at the same time. Urogi cums inside you and Flys you back to the spot the two of you were at before. "That felt good, right?" he said, and you only roll your eyes. "You came inside.. fly me back home, " you said and crossed your arms

"Nah, I'll be waiting for you at your house," he leans closer to your ear. "Then I'll see the mess I've made and fuck you all over again" he chuckles and then flew off.

"Y/n! There you are, " your fellow demon slayer rushes to you. "we thought you were kidnapped... what happened? You look like a mess, " the slayer pointed out, looking at your messy hair and uniform out of order.

"I was fighting a bird"

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #urogi x reader #urogi smut

683 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 1 year

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

They had prepared you for long missions and what would come with them — it was why they found Alpine for you, a little bit of comfort for a time that would inevitably happen. But what they had not prepared you for was the shock of an unexpected, but much desired, arrival back home.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ღ Stucky x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ღ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ღ Tooth rotting fluff, anxiety attack, pining

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ღ Just some much needed soft fluff from our two favourite super soldiers.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ღ @stuckybingo 𝗢𝟱 — Alpine — Masterlist

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Long missions and long nights were commonplace in your life, ever since you managed to sneak your way into the two huge hearts that belonged to your pair of brooding super soldiers. It had been a few years now that the three of you had been together; it was also normal for your heart to ache as soon as their gear-clad figures and combat boots stepped through the door of your home and out into the world to face who-knows-what.

As time went on it had become easier to mask your fear and worry for the two of them, however, this mission even made them nervous. That did not bode well for their farewell and there were enough tears on your behalf to fill the Potomac River.

“We’ll be back before you know it, darlin’,” Steve had said as he held you against his chest while Bucky held your hand, not-so-patiently awaiting his turn.

“Yeah,” Bucky said quietly while pulling Steve away from your embrace, Steve’s whine silenced by a quick kiss. “Alpine’ll keep you company, sweetheart.” Bucky lifted you off your feet in a crushing embrace while he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “Te iubesc,” he whispered.

The two of you reluctantly parted from one another at Steve’s insistence that ‘the quicker we go, the quicker we come back’. It was a shame that wasn’t the case.

It had been three weeks.

You hadn’t heard from the pair of them at all thanks to the requirement of absolute radio silence during this mission - another factor fraying at your already sparking nerves. Three weeks certainly hadn’t been the longest time they had been away, no, it was the fact that there was no communication for the entirety of those three weeks. Fury had made it explicitly clear that if this mission became compromised, the consequences would be dire.

Natasha and Sam had been checking in with you periodically, but they had their own lives and missions to lead.

It was not a far stretch to say you felt isolated. Completely, and utterly, alone.

The bed the three of you slept in felt cold in their absence; too big for its own good, the stillness enough to bring you to tears every single damn time you glanced down the hall towards your shared room.

Unable to bear a single glance into your safe haven, you had closed the door and only ventured in when absolutely necessary; the two pillars holding up all of what you held dear had disappeared and with their vanishing, they had taken the sturdy foundation with them.

It certainly didn’t feel normal in any respect that you were this emotional with their departure, sure it was normal to be anxious, even scared, but something was wrong. Something had been whispering in your ears that something had happened.

You just did not know what.

The makeshift bed on the couch in the living room suddenly felt too close, the walls kept creeping closer and closer with every breath you took.

“Snap out of it,” you whispered, the breathing technique that Bucky had taught you barely kept you above the swell of panic. You needed them home. “They’ll be back soon.”

Your feet met the plush carpet as you moved to stand up. Alpine was sitting up and staring at you from her perch on the arm of the couch, her eyes bright even in the darkness that filled the room and your mind. “Wanna snack?”

Her chipper meow and the sound of her soft and fluffy paws hitting the floor beside your feet made you smile - you may not have Steve and Bucky right now, but you had the next best thing.

The cold tile of the kitchen had the grounding effect you desperately needed, and you felt like you could take a breath against the tight bands around your chest. You decided the next port of call was a glass of water.

The thought made you smile at the memory of Steve sitting down with you one day when the clouds hovering in your mind became too thick to see through.

Steve’s chest was warm on your back, the solid wall of muscle through his sweater a massive comfort as you sat between his parted legs on the floor of the living room. Bucky had left to pick up groceries and run errands so the two of you were alone.

“Maybe you should try a cold glass of water when you’re like this, darlin’. It can’t hurt.” Steve whispered in your ear as his bearded chin rested on your shoulder. You nodded and he maneuvered his way to the kitchen, returning with said glass of cold water. He settled back into place and you took a hold of the glass and sipped.

“Atta girl,” Steve whispered and you smiled, the more you drank, the more the cloud dissipated. “Told you.”

“Don’t be a smart ass, Rogers.”

Steve only laughed at your tone and held you tighter.

God, you missed them so much it hurt.

The quiet hum of the fridge filled the room as the door swung open. It lit the kitchen up in a soft glow while you searched for Alpine’s treat and once you found it, you looked down to find she was no longer at your feet. “Alpine, baby, come on,” you called. She had been right behind you when you walked in here - she must have run back into the living room after hearing or seeing something.

You grabbed a glass from the shelf, turning your back on the open fridge for only a brief second when you felt the hair on the back of your neck begin to stand up. There was no one there, you assured yourself, the sudden feeling a possible spike of anxiety, a dredge of panic leftover from your time wallowing in the living room.

“Alpine, c’mon, where’d you go?” You said loud enough for your voice to carry into the living room. The slosh of the water in your glass, the hum of the fridge, and the roar of blood in your ears from barely abated panic muted any other sound, it had begun to worry you even more when you couldn’t hear her chirps or incessant meows. What was she doing?

The fridge door closed with a quiet thud and you ventured silently towards the hallway leading to the lounge, glass in hand. Although you would never admit it to him, Steve was definitely right with his trick - the cloud that had settled over your mind had slowly started to dissipate, much to your relief.

“Sweetheart?”

The sound of smashing glass and your frightened shriek happened in such quick succession that the shock of hearing Bucky’s voice hadn’t sunk in.

“Hey, hey, hey, easy!” Steve called as he rushed forward but he stopped short with the sound of glass crushing under his boot. “Hey, darlin’.”

Steve smiled. No, you must be dreaming.

“We thought you’d be in bed, sweetheart, what’re you doin’ out here?” Bucky piped up from behind Steve, his voice heavily laced with concern. As he spoke he moved forward, Alpine was cradled in his arms.

“Wh-What are you guys doing here?” You gushed, disbelief and shock still kept you rooted to the spot. “What happened?”

Steve chuckled and side stepped the mess on the floor to pull you into the kitchen and you followed, still dazed at suddenly finding the hulking figures of your boyfriends in a dark hallway.

They were home.

“I don’t understand, what-” You were cut off by a quick kiss from Steve, his hands still holding your wrists. The sudden movement made you squeak from shock but you recovered and smiled when he pulled away.

“You all right, darlin’?” Steve asked while Bucky lowered Alpine to the ground, the sound of her chirping away and demanding her promised snack the only thing you could hear apart from the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“Y-Yeah,” you breathed, swallowed hard around the lump in your throat - unsure if it was because it felt like your heart had lodged itself there, or you were on the verge of tears. “What are you doing home, I-I don’t under-”

“Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours, doll,” Bucky whispered. He grabbed your wrists from Steve’s grip and inspected your shaking hands closely for any cuts from the glass and upon finding no evidence of injury, a quiet sigh left him. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

The rough calluses of Bucky’s right hand and the cold metal of his left somehow brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. As if you needed another reason, you suddenly remembered that there was a mess of broken glass in the hallway. You opened your mouth to speak but only a choked sob came out.

“Buck, take her,” Steve whispered and suddenly you were enveloped in Bucky’s arms. “I’ll clean this up.” You felt Bucky nod and Steve brushed past the two of you to grab a broom.

“Breathe with me, sweetheart, c’mon.” With each deep breath you took, Bucky kissed your temple. After a moment or two, your shoulders had stopped shaking and you could only sniffle. Bucky pulled away slightly and smiled at you. “There’s my girl.”

“Alpine! No!” Steve yelled from the hallway and the two of you laughed quietly.

Bucky began to pull you towards the closed door of your bedroom, his touch soft but firm. “C’mere,” Bucky whispered, opening the door and guiding you through it. He went straight to the wardrobe and pulled down one of his Henleys. “Let’s get you comfy.”

Time blurred while Bucky helped you change. Your sniffles and hiccups gradually slowed until they stopped, and you were suddenly under the warm covers of your bed with Bucky right next to you. Just like you had dreamt of, just as you had wished for, for days on end.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

You blinked and moved your head from the crook of Bucky’s neck to find him smiling softly down at you. Footsteps echoed down the hall and you turned your head towards the door where Steve stood, Alpine in his arms and a content smile on his face. He clucked his tongue and walked forward, placing Alpine on the foot of the bed. “Make room,” he said, pulling his suit off with a sigh of relief.

“There’s room, Stevie,” you whispered. You lifted a hand from Bucky’s chest and offered it to Steve who laughed.

“I was talking to Buck, the big jerk.”

Bucky gasped dramatically and flipped him off. The laugh that escaped you at their banter brightened their smiles to be dazzling.

The bed shifted under Steve’s weight and he flopped at your back before scooting forwards, pulling you against his chest with his strong arms, and Bucky followed, shuffling closer so you were wedged tightly between them. Alpine, not one to miss out on attention, nor affection, made her way to your hip and laid down, purring loudly and contentedly.

Warmth encompassed you with Steve at your back and Bucky at your front, both their arms holding you tightly - protectively while you lay in silence. It wasn’t a tense silence, just your two super soldiers holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“We missed you,” Steve whispered into your hair, squeezing you.

Bucky nodded gently. “We did, doll, we know it’s hard.” His hand moved to your cheek and his thumb brushed your cheekbone. “But we will always come home to you–we will always come home to our girl.”

Their promise held you together, mending the cracks with gold and making you strong once again; for home is where the heart is.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

626 notes · View notes