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lucozadehulahoop · 6 months

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A question of time (Astarion x fem! tav/reader) part 1/?

Summary: Cazador gets his hands on the daughter (tav) of the Elven goddess Sehanine and a common mortal, hoping to manipulate the girl over time and obtain the favor of her protection while he prepares for his Ascension, during which he plans to sacrifice her to gain more power than any devil could ever promise him.

Unfortunately, as the plans for his Ascension become more and more concrete, his ward is summoned every night by the sweet cries of the most tortured out of all his slaves, and she cannot bear to leave his side.

Meanwhile, it has become increasingly obvious to Astarion that his Master does in fact have a weakness, a certain someone he keeps locked away and safe... there is nothing Astarion wants more than to snuff that little light out of Cazador's eyes, no matter if it's the last thing he ever does.

tags and TW pre-bg3! Astarion, slave!Astarion, mentions of torture and abuse, demi-goddess!tav, Cazador being all sorts of creepy, eventual NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings)

Part 2 here ! Part 3 Part 4

I'll take you under my wing, Somebody should

-A Question of Time, Depeche Mode

Astarion had come to the conclusion that the excruciating torture Cazador imposed on him every night was becoming unbearable to the point he was now hallucinating.

It had happened three times now, always when he felt at his lowest. When he was so desperate and alone in his suffering, that he could only wish for someone to drag him out in the early dawn and leave him to burn alive, she would appear.

A clear figment of his imagination. A soul so ethereal yet warm, soft, and real. It made no sense for a creature like that to be down in the dungeons with the likes of him, her silk dress soaked from his own blood. Cazador was never really done with him until the entire floor was soaked in the thick red liquid.

Astarion had been afraid at first. He had never even seen her enter the room. She was just there, at his side. He'd made a feeble attempt to back away when she'd attempted to reach out for him. She had stopped herself in her tracks, and spoken to him softly. Astarion hadn't understood a word. He only knew this was another trick, another evil sent to punish him.

He'd passed out soon after.

The following night he'd realised he didn’t feel as weak as he usually did after a beating. He'd been healed. Somehow he'd even been granted a lavish pillow to rest his head on instead of the cold hard ground he was used to.

Alarmed, Astarion immediately did his best to hide it, using all of his strength to stuff the pillow behind a loose set of bricks in the walls of the dungeon. His master would not have been very forgiving if he thought one of his spawn had been stealing from him.

..☆..

A few weeks passed before the hallucination presented itself again.

It had been another terrible night and Cazador had decided Astarion needed to be sealed up in a coffin again.

Astarion cried like a babe. He begged his Master, promised to do anything for him, to give him anything he wanted. At some point he even attempted to convince Cazador to simply kill him once and for all. But it was no use, and soon he was sealed back into the darkness.

Astarion wondered how long he'd be left to rot this time. Another year? Two? What if this time Cazador simply... forgot about him? Left him to suffer his bloodlust and paranoia for all of eternity?

The world would move on, new cities would be built above his head and no one would be able to hear his cries—

Astarion almost jumped out of his bones in fear when the coffin was being opened up again. He was more than happy to take this little mercy from his Master in exchange of whatever other punishment he chose.

But it was not Cazador's face he ended up facing in the dark.

It was his angel, once again there to save him. Or more likely , as Astarion had been beginning to suspect, to lead him on to the next life.

This time he could see her more clearly. At first glance she might have been any other noble young lady from the city, the kind that had an array of suitors waiting outside her door. She looked like the type to make someone go mad from love or heartbreak, and Astarion was certain there were many out there already dedicating songs and sonnets to her beauty.

Yet her regal attire, while exquisite and fashionable, did not suit her. In fact, it seemed as if she were completely out of place wearing something so mundane. Something told him she wasn't exactly human, or elven for that matter. Her wide eyes were reading him like an open book, yet she did not say a word.

"Now, I don't know who you are..." Astarion warned, barely finding the strength to speak after an almost constant state of screaming and crying. "...or what you want with me... but I can tell you're not his. Because, if you were... you would know how dead we're both going to be when he catches you trying to get me out of here."

She attempted to speak, reaching out for a cut on Astarion's cheek. "You're —"

"You better get the fuck out of here, if you know what's good for you—" Astarion growled, snatching her wrist and squeezing it so tight, if she had been human it would have snapped in his hand like a twig. "And I trust you know how to board up this coffin again since you've been capable of roaming around a den of starving vampire spawn and making it out alive. Twice."

She gave out a wail of pain and Astarion finally let her go. He wasn't about to rot even longer than he had to in a coffin because of yet another reason that was completely out of his control.

The young woman stood there in front of him, undecided on what to do.

"I can't." She said, finally.

"But you will!" Astarion, roared, panicking about the very real possibility of Cazador assuming he'd managed to break out of his confinements himself. "By the hells! Put me back the way you found me and be on your way—"

"But you were crying—" She interjected.

"E-excuse you?" Astarion smiled uneasily, tilting his head to the side. What did this silly little girl think she knew about him?

"I heard you." The odd little thing in front of him answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You were calling out for help. You said, anything but the dark-"

Astarion's eyes burned with rage and hot tears. Suddenly he was stumbling out of the coffin, grabbing the woman by her frilly bloodstained clothes, and pinning her up against a wall. "You're here to doom me, is that it? You're some kind of faerie pulling a cruel joke on me, are you? Trying to give him even more excuses to hurt me. Is that it?" He panted frantically, straining his ears to pick up any signs of Cazador's return. "Here to feed on my suffering, are you?" Astarion attempted to grill answers out of her.

The supposed faerie did not seem concerned with the fact an unstable bloodthirsty creature currently had her trapped with no way of escape. She slowly reached for a huge gaping wound on Astarion's abdomen, and for a few moments he was transfixed by how quickly the flesh healed itself back together under his very eyes.

"I do not wish to bring you harm." She explained calmly. "I thought you would enjoy the freedom. He is away. And I promise to put you back as you were before his return."

Astarion shook his head and laughed maniacally. Freedom. His prayers had somehow been answered but he didn't trust the situation one bit. "Is that right, princess?" He taunted her. "And who just might you be to know the comings and goings of the Master of this house better than his own spawn?"

"He calls me his daughter."

..☆..

The revelation never left Astarion's head, even in the days that followed. Cazador... his heartless captor, his psychotic jailor, had a weakness. Initially, he'd thought about what it would have been like to take the life of Cazador's precious daughter right there and then, damned by the consequences.

But that would have been too easy. No, Astarion had finally stumbled upon something that gave him an edge over his Master, and his revenge was going to be carefully thought out. Sweet as can be.

Cazador had never mentioned his daughter to any of them so Astarion had no rules or commandments looming over his head. She was the perfect way to get revenge after almost two centuries of suffering. He just needed to be clever about it. He could not squander an opportunity like this.

The prospect of hurting Cazador made the torture much more barerable during the coming weeks. In fact, Astarion didn't know whether he was delirious or if all of that suffering was just feeding the fire burning inside of him more and more.

Once he'd been finally freed to go out and bring a new victim for Cazador to feast on, his plan he been set into action. Going out on a limb, Astarion assumed Cazador had tucked his daughter in the highest room of the tallest tower of his castle, where none could get to her and where she could never see the true horror of who her father truly was.

Under the cover of night, he scaled the side of the castle walls with nothing but some climbing tools and his own blessed agility. And as he did so, his mind was flooded with the same questions he'd been plagued with since the last night he'd seen the young woman. How was it possible that Cazdor had sired a daughter? What was the nature of her powers? They did not seem to have sliver of relation between them. And why, oh why, was she so determined to care for Astarion of all people?

Had Cazador set her on it? Was it all some sick game? Only one thing was for sure. Cazador had hidden the girl from everything and everyone, so at some fundamental level he must have cared for her.

That was all that mattered to Astarion. It was worth risking Cazador's eternal wrath just to see even a tiny sliver of pain in his eyes. A crack in his armor. And there was no doubt in his mind that would soon be true, just as soon as he found his daughter's lifeless body and her blood splattered all across the castle walls on his return.

"Are you stuck?" Her voice called out to him from her bedroom window as she looked down at him. Yes, Astarion had been slightly stalled by his thoughts. He looked up at her. Well, there went the element of surprise. He certainly was not planning on underestimating her. The girl had true power coursing through her veins.

Yet, he had not anticipated the scenario and now he was at a loss for words. A first for him. "No I was just, well I was—"

"Just close the window when you come up, okay? It's getting cold in here." She admonished him, before disappearing back inside. Astarion was a little taken aback. Had she known he was coming?

When he finally stepped into her chambers, he got a full understanding of just how capable Cazador was of spoiling and pampering someone he cared about. The room was lavish and spacious, almost every single item worth more than the average working person in Baldur's Gate could make in their entire lifetimes.

She was there, simply brushing her hair in front of the fireplace, almost completely uncaring about the fact a stranger had just invaded her private quarters.

Astarion let a dagger slip out of his sleeve, and only then did she turn around to look at him. He hated it, wishing he could have gotten the chance to kill her in her sleep or with a stab to the back, so he wouldn't have had to stare into those mesmerizing pools again.

"You won't hurt me, Astarion." She simply stated.

Astarion ground his teeth in anger. It really wasn't fair how perfect his name sounded on her tongue.

"I see his brat is not only spoiled, but entitled too. What makes you think you'll get out of this?" Astarion marched over towards her. "What makes you think your life will be spared against the countless others I've dragged to the grave in your father's name?" He snarled drawing his blade up to her perfect neck.

The sound of her pulse was enchanting and exhilarating at the same time. If he only could have, he would have gorged himself with her blood, sunk his teeth into her perfect flesh.

"Because... you're afraid the next time you call for help you'll be alone. For good." She answered honestly, seeing right through him as if he were made of glass.

The young woman had meant no offense, but Astarion took it nonetheless. In one swift move, he had a dagger to her throat, tears brimming in his eyes. He hated that she was right, but he was going to prove her wrong nonetheless.

"You think you're so smart, don't you love?" He sneered. "What? Were you so bored all couped up in your tower, you thought you could just have a little fun with one of your daddy's toys? That bastard's going to get what's coming to him—"

Suddenly, she was placing a hand over Astarion's mouth and cutting him off mid-speech. For the first time ever, Astarion saw the strange girl display concern in her features. No... it was genuine fear in her eyes.

"He's... he's down the hall." She whispered, more concerned with her father's arrival than the blade at her throat. Astarion dropped the weapon and froze, completely incapable of doing anything except await for his punishment in silence.

"What are you doing?" She fretted over him. "You need to leave!" The girl tried to put some sense into him but it was useless. Her attempts to drag him towards her closet were also fruitless.

Astarion was frozen, his eyes on the door and his ears keenly listening to Cazador's steps as they drew nearer.

___

AN: Let me know if you'd like part 2, comments are appreciated 🤧🥺

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion fluff #bg3 astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader

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lucysarah-c · 6 months

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If I tell you a secret, you swear to keep it?

Captain Levi wasn't sure when all of this started, and he dared to say that it had never truly begun; perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Was it due to stress, the lack of sleep, something he ate, or perhaps something in the air? Could it be some hallucinating mold he hadn't heard of before, requiring him to deep clean the entire Scouts' facility?

Somehow, it made him feel morally wrong and, overall, childish. Levi had drawn the attention of his own squad by doing so. He told Jean and Connie that it was inappropriate to stare at a person for so long, emphasising that, as their superior, you deserved respect. Hormonal teenagers, especially boys, saw a hole in a wall and wondered if they could stick their dick inside. They seemed unable to think of anything else when the other head was doing the thinking.

You haven't been working for the Scouts for long, but Levi dared to say it's been long enough for him to feel somewhat comfortable around you. You're the nurse sent by the medical sector to fill the infirmary. Levi understood the nature of the job—a common fetishized and sexualized profession. It didn't help that the male cadets from his squad acted as if they had never seen an ankle. The pristine white uniform was modest and always had been, but Jean saw a skirt despite its length, and his face turned red.

Even though Levi understood all of that and more, why was he reacting this way? You asked him if he wanted the flu shot that the government had sent, and he agreed. His hand gripped the edge of his shirt sleeve as he sat down in the infirmary, yet his eyes were fixed elsewhere. Your silhouette against the window, the still strong autumn sun coming through, almost making your clothes transparent. He could see the shadow of your legs underneath, your rosy lips as you played with the pencil while reading reports, your soft hands—why were they so soft?—against his arm as you prepared the skin, your big doll eyes looking up at him as you examined the skin for a good syringe penetration. "It may hurt a little, Captain," you said. Levi had to remind himself to breathe and swallow the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth. His brain had decided to stop working; he couldn't have a single rational thought.

"Oops," you casually said as a few papers flew because of the open window, moving hastily to close it and then bending down to pick them up. Your modest skirt softly raised, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the tender flesh of your inner legs. 'I bet they are even softer than her hands,' he thought.

What was he thinking? Forcing himself to look elsewhere as she walked back to him to put a band-aid on after the shot, he hadn't ever felt this way. "You may feel a little bit down today or tomorrow. If you feel like you are getting a bit of a fever, that's also normal," her voice came so soft. "There, green," she chuckled, "so it matches your cloak."

Levi's eyes travelled down to admire the green band-aid as if he were a kid in need of colourful stuff to celebrate his bravery in taking a flu shot. "Thanks," he grunted out as he lowered his folded sleeve. There wasn't anything he wished for more than to run out of there. It was humiliating how he felt he couldn't control his own thoughts. You were being your usual nice and cheerful self, sometimes a well-received contrast to the harsh life of a scout. But today, he simply couldn't take it.

Levi groaned softly, tossing and turning in his bed. His mind was racing with conflicting emotions: shame, disgust, desire, and a hint of excitement. "It's the shot, I must be getting a fever or something," he tried to self gaslight himself out of it. He had plenty of paperwork to do, why did he decided to try to catch some rest? Eyes forcefully closed, trying to convince himself to use this time to sleep. When the idea of you kneeling between his legs, under his desk, big cheerful eyes looking up to him, teeth biting down and smiling. Levi shook his head vigorously, banishing the lewd thoughts for now. "This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself.

However it was too late, he could feel the tent in his trousers, demanding him attention. Levi groaned softly, his hand slipping inside his trouser's waistband. It wasn't long before he had freed his erect member from its confines, rubbing it against the fabric of his boxers. The sensation was driving him wild, and he rested on the side, arching his hips slightly to increase the contact. His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, growing harder and heavier in his grasp.

The image of you bent over flashed through his mind like a cruel tease, his loins burning with desire. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to shake off the thoughts. But the pull was too strong, and he couldn't resist any longer.

Then, he sat up abruptly, unable to contain himself anymore. If he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. He kicked off the sheet and stripped. The last thing he needed was sleeping in stained sheets.

Levi's cock throbbed with need, his erect member stood tall and proud, leaking copious amounts of precum onto his stomach.

Heart racing like a wild animal penned up too long, leaping onto the mattress, he landed on top of it with a thud, arching his hips upwardwards. Mouth gathering the saliva before he spit on his right hand and let his head fall backwards. "Fuck…" he groaned out, unable to resist it any longer. He wanted release so badly it hurt.

His hand moved on its own, fast and harsh. Closing his eyes imagined something better than his own hand, pushing the foreskin of his cock to reveal the head and began to pump it. Levi's eyes remained closed as he let his imagination run free. You were standing before him, a curvy figure illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. His cock twitched in anticipation, leaking more of his sticky pre-cum onto his stomach. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his member, stroking it roughly yet somewhat tenderly. Perfect body crawling on top of him.

His hand moved faster as the fantasy turned more explicit. You sat down on his legs and his dick buried balls deep in your hole as you rode him with energy. "Yes! Mh-Ahg so big" you would say. "Captain!" moaning out his title, head thrown backwards, messy hair falling like a waterfall "Cap- ahh yesss, fuck me harder!"

You sucking him in, taking all of him so effortlessly as if you were made to take this cock. "You feel me right there? I'm rearranging your guts,". Your mouth hanging open while letting out the loudest moans and your eyes rolled backwards.

Grunting heavily, he brought his other hand to his balls, squeezing them rhythmically to heighten his arousal "You're a filthy whore, aren't ya? this cunt loves swallowing my load" he murmured as if his fantasy could hear it.

Levi's hand quickened its pace, his cock throbbing in sync with his heartbeat. The head of his member was glistening with precum, leaking copiously onto his stomach. His breathing grew heavier, almost labored as he imagined fucking you rough and hard.

In his mind's eye, you were panting heavily almost sobbing of how good it felt each time you sinked down and his hips snapped upwards. Your body quivering with each powerful thrust. "Enjoying that dick, pretty?" he growled, his voice low and husky.

You would be hanging your mouth open unable to think anymore, head bobbing as you hummend positively as saliva slightly dropped from the corner of your lips. His cock was starting to twitch violently, warning him that release was imminent.

"Captain…" you would whimper softly in his mind, begging for more. "Please give me your cum, please… I won't waste a drop."

Levi's hand tightened its grip on his throbbing member, moving faster and harder. His abdominal muscles contracted rhythmically as he neared his climax. "I'm close, Y/N," he growled out your name raggedly. "Right there…"

With one final powerful thrust, he released his seed, shooting hot white ropes onto her stomach and chest. Panting heavily, he continued to pump his cock slowly until it was painful to keep going.

Collapsing on the bed, Levi lay there for several minutes, catching his breath. Gradually, the post-orgasmic bliss began to fade, replaced by a haze of embarrassment and confusion. What had just happened? How could he have thought such filthy things about a fellow soldier? A nurse? He groaned softly, sitting up on the edge of the bed, trying to compose himself.

He felt embarrassed for multiple reasons. First, he had just seen a skirt raised up a bit and he got hard as a teenager. Even worse, as a teen he jerked off a couple of times and came all over his own body. It felt stupid how sexually frustrated he was. If it wasn't because his hands were still filthy, he would be groaning with his head in his hands while questioning himself how he was going to face you in the hallways.

Was it the uniform? The skirt? You were undoubtedly gorgeous, but… Was it because most of the women in the Scouts didn't have time to take care of their appearance, or they simply didn't care? There was something stupidly arousing about your soft and clear skin, how you took care of yourself, the tight little waist highlighting the difference between your swinging hips underneath the skirt, perky breasts under the blouse.

"Captain," your cloying voice whispered his worst intentions, "Captain, you need a hand?"

Levi's eyes, looking to his left, caught your mischievous smile as you looked at him. "I… Um…" He was confused.

"Do you want a hand, Cap?" you asked again, looking deeply into his eyes. 'Well… if you want to…' he wondered, lost as your eyes softly looked down and then back up.

"Do you need help?" The haze of sexually inciting began to fade. "With the tea, I mean… you had been staring at the kettle for ten minutes," your voice now lacked all the previous sweetness, and he felt like an idiot.

"No, thanks," he spat back, angry but not at you. Levi forced himself to get back into his senses and returned to brew his own tea.

"You sure? You seem a bit… lost," you commented. He groaned an unworded reply and then handed you a cup. Soft fingers brushed against his before raising the liquid to your lips, letting out a pleased moan. "Ah~ nothing better than tea in the mornings," you said before adding with an innocent smile, "Hot, strong, and deep, exactly as I like it."

Levi swore he was trying to breathe, but he simply couldn't. "Have a nice morning, thanks for the tea! You really know how I like it," you said back before walking away. 'Maybe I should visit a church or something.'

Yet his eyes were still glued to your back as you walked away, skirt swinging as you moved. He didn't mean to stare, but something smacked him on the head with strength, forcing him back to his senses. "Oi!" he turned around to confront the person, only to find Hange with a handful of papers rolled up in their hand.

"Stop staring~" they signed back with a mischievous smile.

"I wasn't," he replied while his hand caressed the top of his head. "Stop laughing, four eyes," he insisted as he could hear Hange's chuckles.

Suddenly, Hange wrapped an arm around his shoulders, resting their entire weight on them, and their heads touching. "You know… if I tell you a secret, you swear to keep it, right?"

"Get off my ass," Levi replied, not interested in being dragged into Hange's silly games.

"The other day, I was talking to Erwin," their voice dropped as they began to whisper, "And we both agreed that Y/N has such a great ass."

Both looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, Levi frowning deeply.

"Don't tell the cadets, though… we don't want to set a bad example."

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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megalony · 8 months

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Obsessive

This is an Evan Buckley (Buck) imagine requested by Anon, I hope everyone enjoys it. Feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: After saving a woman a few weeks back, she starts to turn up wanting to see Evan. A lot. Her new found obsession soon puts Evan's family at risk.

Enjoy.

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

"Buck, you have a visitor downstairs," Bobby leaned against the railing and pointed over his shoulder down towards the station where the trucks were parked idly waiting to be used.

A flicker of light crossed over Evan's eyes and his head perked up from where he was playing a game of cards with Chimney.

A visitor?

(Y/n) was here. The thought of his wife made a broad, if childlike smile spread across his lips that flashed his teeth and he quirked a brow. The energy he thought he lost on their last call out started to bubble back through him and he stood up quickly before he looked down at his cards. He stuffed them into his back pocket causing Chimney to frown.

"I don't trust you," Evan pointed a finger at him before he clapped his hands together and rounded the table to go towards the stairs.

"That's uncalled for."

Why was (Y/n) here? Maybe she was just passing by and thought she would stop in and see the team, she dropped by often to see the team and sometimes have dinner with them. Half the time she had to stop by on her way to work when Evan forgot his phone or his wallet and one time he forgot his phone on purpose just so she could come by the station and see him for a few extra minutes.

He reached out and patted Bobby on the shoulder before he jogged down the stairs and looked round the side of the truck. He couldn't see her electrifying eyes or that charming smile hiding round any corner. He was half a second away from calling out her name when his eyes landed on a figure stood near the open doors to the station.

That wasn't his wife.

Evan felt like a balloon deflated inside his stomach and his shoulders slumped when it sank in that his girl wasn't in fact here to see him.

He recognised that face. His steps became slower as he approached the figure who was facing the left with her side towards him. Evan couldn't help but take a step back when she smiled widely at him when her eyes locked on him. He recognised her but he couldn't quite place where from. She wasn't a close friend or a friend of (Y/n)'s, he was sure of that, he knew all his wife's friends by name.

Where had he seen her before? Why was she here to see him and why was she grinning at him like that?

The fire. The office fire just over two weeks ago, that was why her face was familiar.

Evan and Eddie had scaled their way up to the fifth floor, broke through the window and got her free from a desk that had pinned her into a corner. She had been so afraid to go on a harness and scale down the window that they barely managed to get out before the smoke became unbearable. She had clung to Evan even when their feet were firmly placed on the floor.

"Hi, the Captain said you're here to see me?" It felt like they were playing some kind of trick on him. Why was she here to see him? He hadn't done anything wrong, he had gotten her out and there had been no casualties in that incident.

The smile on her face calmed Evan down somewhat and he managed a small smile in her direction when she nodded. He could see her fidgeting, moving from foot to foot, pressing her hands together in her lap like she didn't know what to do with herself. Those were the kind of traits he always took note of when he looked at (Y/n), it was how he could tell when it was time to leave an event. If (Y/n) was fidgeting or clinging to him more, Evan knew they needed to go home.

"Hi Buck,"

He narrowed his eyes on her face and tried to think of her name to be polite, it wouldn't be very kind of him to stare at her blankly and admit he couldn't remember her name. He was usually good with names, he found it calmed people down if they shared names and tried to talk through some situations. And if his memory served him correctly, boy, could she talk when she panicked.

"It's… Liz, right?" It was clear he was right when her smile widened and she nodded enthusiastically. "How are you doing?"

She had been lucky during the fire, the desk that trapped her had only broken two ribs and sprained her ankle. Other than smoke inhalation, she had done well to get off with almost no injuries which was more than could be said for other people in that kind of situation.

"I'm a lot better now, thank you. I, um, I just wanted to give you these, to say thank you for saving me."

Evan had been preoccupied with (Y/n) on his mind and then trying to work out who she was that he didn't even see the bouquet of flowers resting behind her near her left foot.

This was new. No one had ever come to bring him flowers before. He had been thanked a lot when he got people to safety or when they went with people to the hospital within a good time frame. It was mainly food and chocolates that the team got given when people came by to thank them. Or drawings, kids always came by with pictures for them.

Evan wasn't used to getting gifts from the people they saved, a polite thank you and a hug was always more than enough for him. He got enough gifts from the team and his family on special occasions. The last gift he got was (Y/n)'s gift on his birthday telling him he was going to be a dad. That had given him a whole new high he never felt before.

"Wow… thank you," He took a few steps forward and took the flowers from her, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sudden smell that reminded him of Maddie's perfume. "This is sweet, you didn't have to you know."

"It's the least I could do after you saved me,"

"All part of the job, but I appreciate it-" Evan's smile froze on his face and his body tensed when she moved closer and pulled him into a hug.

He usually gave small hugs on the scene after saving someone, not weeks later when they came by to say thank you. He wasn't sure what to do so he moved his left arm very lightly around her back and patted her shoulder. It wouldn't do him good to stand like a statue and make them both uncomfortable but he also didn't want to hug her as if they were good friends or give her the wrong impression. Evan was big on hugs and physical contact with close friends and family.

He was always messing about with Bobby and Eddie but they were more like family. Evan didn't do so well with strangers.

"Take care," He was sure she must have heard the awkwardness in his voice when he took a step back but if she did, she didn't show it.

Liz turned towards the door, sent a wave in his direction and walked out with a big smile and a skip in her step. Leaving Evan stood like a statue, unsure what to do with himself or the flowers he now possessed.

"Ooh, do you have an admirer Buck?" Hen put down the sponge and bucket in her hand, having just finished cleaning up one of the trucks. She wore a bright smile and a raised brow that made Evan shake his head and smile, embarrassed. He didn't always like the centre of attention being on him and this wasn't the most comfortable of topics or situations to be in.

"No, uh, someone me and Eddie helped a few weeks ago. She stopped by to say thank you."

"With an expensive bunch of flowers? You must have done a number on her. Want me to get you some water for those?"

Hen's attitude helped settle some of Evan's nerves and he smiled but shook his head. He wasn't keeping these flowers; he couldn't for more reasons than one.

"No thanks,"

"You taking them home for your girl?" She poked her tongue out between her teeth and grinned widely but the grin started to slip when Evan shook his head. "You get given good flowers and you're not taking them home to her?"

"I can't, (Y/n)'s allergic to flowers. I'm gonna have to shower before I go home after holding these. You want them for Karen?" Evan held the bouquet over to Hen, shaking them a little to urge her to take them off him.

It was a sweet gesture, but just for holding these Evan now needed a shower to get them scrubbed off his skin so he didn't risk giving (Y/n) an anaphalactic shock. Besides being allergic to flowers, (Y/n) wasn't keen on them in general, she thought natural flowers in the garden were lovely but she didn't like bouquets. They faded so quickly and always went to waste and it seemed unusual to give someone something that would soon die.

If Evan ever wanted to do a gesture like this, he bought a fake plant like the lavender one sitting in the kitchen window or the honeysuckle plastic plant in the front room.

"Thanks Buck," Hen nodded with a smile and took the flowers from him, examining them as she walked on to find somewhere to keep them until the end of shift.

He would rather someone enjoy them and Hen have a good night with her wife than leave the flowers here to rot or put them in the bin and put them to waste.

***

A grin pulled at Evan's lips as he dropped down from the pull-up bar but kept his hands on the bar, swaying back and forth as he looked over at Eddie who was sat on the bench nearby. They had an unknown amount of time before their next call and their last one had been fairly easy, a bit of time in the gym helped build them up and get the energy going ready for the next call.

"Uh, Buck… you have a friend,"

Both of them turned around and looked through the glass to where Hen was leaning but when they looked past her, a stone dropped down into Evan's stomach and the smile faded from his face.

Liz. Why was she back again?

"Oh no," Evan shook his head and felt his body slump down and Eddie patted his back when he slowly shuffled past and trudged towards the truck where Liz was stood.

Her dark red hair was up in a ponytail and she was wearing a low cut tank top and some shorts. Evan didn't know where was safe to look so he focused on her eyes and upwards. He didn't want to be talking to her, he didn't even know why she was here. Bobby said she had stopped by yesterday too but Evan and Hen had been out on a call so he had missed her.

She couldn't keep turning up to thank him, her life had been in danger but even if they didn't get her out she would have managed to get free and find her way out of the building. They had saved her and she said thank you, that should have been an end to things.

"Hi Liz, what can I do for you?" Evan's eyes narrowed as his lips pursed and he tilted his head to one side.

Both his hands started to clench and rub together in front of him to try and control the nerves bundling up inside of him. Why was she here, what was she expecting from him?

"Hi Buck, I made these for you."

It was clear she was excited and the proud smile on her face was off-putting to Evan but he leaned just a little closer while keeping a safe three feet between them. He peered into the tupperware box she held out and saw some chocolate cookies.

Now if this was (Y/n) bringing these in, the whole team would have swarmed around her by now and Evan would have to fight to get even half a cookie from his girl. She almost matched Bobby in her cooking skills and was forever making things for the team. Chimney requested the brownies she made, Eddie was weak for her cookies and she knew Evan's favourite was her banana cake.

"Oh, that's really sweet of you, but you shouldn't have. The flowers were more than enough," The flowers he just so happened to give to Hen who had walked in the station with a smirk on her face the next day and when she winked at Evan, he knew she had had a good night due to that bouquet.

"I thought you would like them and I was just passing by," She wiggled the box in her hands and stepped closer until the box was the only thing separating them.

Evan knew she wasn't just passing by because she had been here yesterday too. That wasn't a coincidence.

If he wasn't married, if he didn't have (Y/n) in his life, he might have thought this was a lovely gesture and might have tried to get to know Liz or felt more at ease about her constantly stopping by. But he was married, he had a kid on the way. Evan's job was to save people from burning buildings and get them to safety.

Liz needed to realise that Evan did this hundreds of times a week, it was what he was trained to do he wasn't just a good samaritan saving people in his spare time. Evan wasn't expecting her to do anything for him in return and he didn't want to become friends or more than friends.

"Thanks," Evan turned to look over his shoulder at the team. Hen was biting her lip and looking away with her hands in her pockets and Eddie had his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. He understood the discomfort clearly written on Evan's face. "I have to get back now, you don't have to keep thanking me, you know. It's our job."

Evan took the box from her with a tight-lipped expression that somewhat resembled a smile before he spun on his heels and headed back towards the gym as Hen walked away with a nod of her head.

He had to accept the cookies, he couldn't reject them and cause a scene or upset Liz. It would be rude of him to say no. But as soon as he saw Liz round the door and leave the station, evan hurriedly tipped the box open and chucked the cookies in the bin.

They had house rules.

Any food that wasn't safely packaged or store bought went straight in the bin unless it was from family or close friends. After the whole pot brownie incident, they couldn't accept food unless it was untouched and store-bought. The chief wouldn't have another incident of a team high on duty, it would be too much bad press.

That meant that lately it was only Bobby and (Y/n) making and bringing in the baked goods.

"Is that the one who came by yesterday?"

"Yeah, I didn't want to be rude but I don't want her to keep showing up, you know? I'm married, for God's sake."

Evan didn't even want to think what would happen if Liz came by when (Y/n) was here and saw him with her or saw the team eating the goods she bought. It wouldn't do any favours for Evan if he had to tell (Y/n) that someone he helped had now started to get attached to him and kept showing up.

"I get it. If she stops by again just tell Cap, you might have to file a report."

Even the thought made Evan groan and tip his head back. He didn't want to deal with that sort of hassle or have to tell Bobby to go have a word with someone who wouldn't leave him alone.

If Liz showed up again, Evan would have to firmly tell her she had to stop.

***

Evan tilted his head down and pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head as his right arm looped over the back of her neck and reeled her into his side. His lips curved into a smile against her skin when he felt her reach up to hold his hand that was resting on her shoulder and her other arm snook around his lower waist.

She kept herself tucked into his side and gently brushed her nose against his chest as they walked into the station. Bobby had said it was alright for (Y/n) to stop by for dinner today all being well and they didn't get a call halfway through dinner.

The couple walked towards the stairs but slowed down a bit when they noticed Eddie walking out of the gym. He smiled and when he got close enough, he opened his arms to pull (Y/n) into a hug.

"How are you?"

"Starving," (Y/n) leaned back into Evan's chest, smiling up at him when he curved his arms around her middle with his hands resting on her bump. It was barely midday and (Y/n) already felt like she had been starved for three days, her mouth was watering at the thought of what Bobby would be cooking today.

"Of course you are," Evan laughed into her hair but his bright smile and elevated mood dampened just a little when he looked up at Eddie and noticed him staring just behind them. He tightened his arms around (Y/n) and rested his chin on top of her head but his eyes narrowed at his friend, silently asking what was wrong.

"Let's go get you something to eat then, your ladyship. Buck, can you check the medic bag quick before we eat?" Eddie nodded his head towards the truck but there was a secret message behind his eyes that Evan didn't quite understand.

He went along with it though, letting (Y/n) slip from his arms and he watched Eddie place a careful hand on her back so he could guide her upstairs. The smell of the food was already drifting downstairs and making them both hungry.

A twang of anger jolted in Evan's chest when he turned towards the truck and realised why Eddie had been so quick to steer his wife away.

Liz.

What the Hell is she doing back here?

Evan stormed across the floor towards her, a frown setting deep into his face and his upper lip curled ever so slightly.

He wasn't playing this game anymore. She had been back again while he had luckily been out on a call and Eddie had warned her that she couldn't keep coming back like this. It wasn't fair, professional or technically allowed, she had to stop and leave him alone now. All Evan had done was his job and she was hovering around like he had lifted a building off of her like Superman or saved hundreds of children from a burning school. All he did was help her out of a fire, this obsession had to stop.

"Hey Buck! I was just-" She stopped herself mid-sentence when Evan grabbed her elbow and roughly steered her back the way she had just walked. He pulled her past the truck and towards the exit before he let go of her and added two feet of space between them for his safety more than hers.

"Look, you have to stop calling here to see me, you can't keep doing this."

There was no easy way for Evan to ease into the conversation or try and be kind about this. He didn't want small chat with her and he didn't want to be vague. Blunt and to the point was what Liz needed to hear to make her realise what she was doing was starting to become stalking.

He rubbed his hands together out of anxious habit before he settled them on his hips to try and look firm.

"Why? We have a connection, you saved me-"

"It's my job, we help people and sometimes we do save lives and I get you're grateful but you can't keep coming here asking for me. There is no connection."

Evan couldn't fathom why she was so hung up on him like this, he hadn't done anything different than he would if he were saving someone else. He and Eddie did what they always did, hurried into the flames and evacuated everyone out.

Would Liz be doing this if it had been Eddie who helped her get out of that fire? Would she be so hung up and obsessed with him if they had switched roles and Eddie took the lead trying to save her? Was this Evan's luck of the draw and he pulled the wrong card at the wrong time? Whatever it was, it was annoying that it had to be him who she was clinging to. If (Y/n) saw she might get the wrong impression or Liz might even get violent towards her and Evan wouldn't allow that.

"You don't like me?"

"I'm married, I have a family. I'm not looking for a connection when I already have one, I love my wife. Please stop showing up here."

He knew she got the message when her face lit up like the burning red flames of Hell and her feet almost stomped through the floor when she turned to leave. He had to be cruel to be kind, she had to understand and stop trying to find him.

The anxiety started to dwindle out of Evan's system when he headed towards the back of the station and made his way upstairs. As soon as (Y/n) was within his sights again and his arms wrapped around her, he felt like he could breathe and the smile came back to his face.

"Everything okay?"

"Just fine," He whispered back against the shell of her ear and leaned close to kiss the side of her neck.

He didn't notice the pair of eyes watching from afar, getting a good look at the woman wrapped up in his embrace.

***

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hello? I'm at the Whitehall library and s-someone's started a fire and I can't find the extinguisher, it's gone. I'm trying to evacuate everyone, the fire's near the main entrance so w-we're… we're going out the back."

"I'm dispatching help to your location now ma'am. Is anyone hurt?"

Jumping out the truck, Evan slapped his helmet hazardly on his head before he reached out and grabbed Chimney who was just climbing down from the ambulance. He knew Chimney would understand his panic without being told anything.

They both knew (Y/n) worked here.

Evan could feel his eyes welling up with the tears he tried not to shed on the ride down here when he heard where they were going. Someone started a fire in the library where (Y/n) worked. A hazardous place full of flammable books and equipment and Evan's pregnant wife was here. Somewhere.

"Alright, dispatcher said the fire is at the main entrance so they're evacuating everyone round the emergency exit at the back of the building, Chim, Hen go round back and start checking everyone over and find out if anyone is left inside. You two, with me we'll put out the fire."

Bobby took off his helmet and moved to the side of the truck to grab the masks, they didn't know how far the fire had spread or how much smoke there would be inside. They needed to take every precaution and be prepared for a bad fire. But when his eyes clocked Buck running in front of Chimney who was trying to reach out for him, Bobby held his hands out at his sides and rolled his eyes.

What had gotten into him? Why was he shooting off in the complete opposite direction and ignoring an order?

"Buck! Get back round front, we need to put this fire out. Now." Bobby shouted into the radio as he handed Eddie a mask and they got the hose ready.

"Cap, his wife works here and she should be on shift right now." Chimney's reply came back through the radio and with a daring look, Bobby just sighed and got the hose ready. There was no way they could get Evan back round here if he was looking for his wife, both of them knew and respected that. But they still had to put the fire out quickly because if Evan's wife wasn't okay, they might have to restrain him or hold him together.

"Copy, keep me updated. We're going in."

Evan ran ahead round the side of the building towards where he knew the emergency exit would be. He had been here countless times, he had dropped (Y/n) off here for her shift this morning before he went to the station so unless she hadn't been well and left early without telling him, he knew she would be here.

His eyes scanned over the people hovering near the open metal doors at the back. A few people were stood as far away as they could manage, about three people were sat down trying to take deep breaths and clear the smoke from their lungs. A mother with two children was sat down leaning up against the building and they looked fine, no dust, smoke or injuries that Evan could see other than a bit of trauma and fright.

"Evan!" Relief swarmed through (Y/n) and a jolt overtook her heart when her sights set on her husband. He stood in his overcoat, helmet, gloves and boots with a look of utter fright on his face.

"(Y/n)!"

He was by her side in an instant, curving his arms around her waist like iron bars caging her into his chest forever. He could feel her hands gripping his coat and when she buried her face into the little bit of exposed skin of his neck, he felt her try to muffle a cough. She was shaking horribly against him. He reached one hand up to cradle the back of her neck, curling his fingers into her hair but his other arm tightened around her waist when her knees buckled.

"Wow, hey I got you. You're safe baby," Evan took off his helmet and let it drop to the floor by his feet so he could smother his face in her hair and breathe in her scent. "Chim, I got her," Evan pressed his cheek against the top of her head so he could look across at Chimney who nodded, relief washing over his expression.

"T-there's still someone inside… she wouldn't leave," (Y/n) turned her face enough to look over at Hen who nodded and spoke into the radio to let Bobby know. There was no point one of them suiting up to go looking inside when both Bobby and Eddie were already inside trying to put out the fire. They could easily find whoever was inside and get them out to safety.

"Are you okay, are you hurt?"

Evan pulled back enough to look down at (Y/n) and he cupped her face in his hands and ran his eyes up and down her body, scouting for any signs of injury or trauma.

He watched her let go of his coat and hold her shaking hands out between them so he could see the small blisters forming on the back of her hands but they didn't look too extensive. Once they were cleaned and wrapped they would heal soon enough.

A small smile worked its way onto (Y/n)'s lips when Evan tilted her head down in his hands and pressed his wet lips against her burning temple. She could feel the love and relief radiating off him and when he stroked his thumbs across her cheekbones, she shivered. They both knew it could have been a lot worse than a few scrapes and blisters.

(Y/n) reached up to grip Evan's wrists and steady herself against him but her smile dropped and she quickly moved his arms so she could double over. She felt his arms move back around her waist with one hand firm and steady on her bump and the other on the small of her back. He let her lean her weight onto his arm that was around her front and he held her up when she threw up onto the floor.

"Chim, can you check her over please? I'm gonna sit you down baby," When he was sure she had finished, Evan tucked her back into his chest and slowly went down on his knees on the gravel. He took her weight and eased her down until she was sat between his legs, slumped up against his chest.

Her eyes closed and she buried her face back into Evan's overcoat, inhaling his scent and gripping his arm tightly while Chimney crouched down beside them. She let him check her heartbeat, blood pressure and oxygen level, staying limp and floppy so it was easier for him to check her over.

"Blood pressure is a bit high, let's have a look at the little guy too."

(Y/n) kept her eyes closed but she couldn't help but smile when she felt Evan kissing her temple and the stethescope press against her stomach. Chimney moved it around a little before he stopped and stayed quiet, intently listening to the small heartbeat.

"Strong and steady. We're definitely taking you to the hospital for a check over though."

"Fire's out and the building is clear," Bobby's voice rang out through the radio as he and Eddie trudged out the emergency exit to where everybody else was, the last evacuated person stood between them.

Eddie did a sweep of the scene and he felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Evan sat with (Y/n) in his arms. For a moment it looked like an entirely horrid scene when he noticed Evan was rocking them both back and forth. But once Eddie realised his friend was smiling and talking, he took the hint that (Y/n) was in fact alright and safe.

With that thought in mind, Eddie reached out to the right and grabbed the upper arm of the last person they evacuated.

"You're coming with me to wait for the police." His statement was firm and authoritative and his grip was tight as he steered them both past Bobby and in the other direction of the rest of the team.

"Wha- why? Was that… where's Buck?"

A dangerous look swept across Eddie's face and he pulled her closer, sneering down at her with one raised brow just daring her to try her luck with him.

"Because I know you started this fire," His voice was low and he leaned his head down to whisper in her ear. "You were told to stay away from Buck, not to try and harm his wife and get his attention. You're not gonna see him again."

He took a last look over his shoulder before he pulled Liz and forced her to keep walking with him so they could round to the front of the building. He wasn't about to let Buck see her here, it would raise too many questions and cause too much aggravation and panic. Eddie had told Bobby to radio for the police when he saw Liz in that building clearly waiting to be rescued.

This wasn't a coincidence that she was here, staying right near the scene instead of fleeing to safety with everyone else.

She wasn't going to get any closer to Buck. Not anymore.

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buck buckely #buck imagine #buck x reader #imagine #pregnant! reader #911 imagine #eddie diaz imagine #bobby nash

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tswhiisftteedr · 21 days

Note

Hiya!! I was wondering if I could ask for some nsfw fem reader x husk (hazbin hotel) where husk basically just eating reader out, face sitting etc.

Also keep up the good writing!! I love your writing from what I’ve seen and i hope you do well with your other requests too!!

Don’t worry, I’m right here with you. ☆ Oneshot

Soft Dom!Husk x Sub!Hotel Resident!Fem!Reader:

After spending quite sometimes getting to know each other, you and husk finally begin dating. Anyways, today Lucifer came to the hotel for the first time and that was a super, but it wasn’t the main event of yours and husk’s days. So after an altercation with Alastor, husk seek solace in you for comfort, which you give, and he decides to thank you in his own special way for it.

Warnings: Mature Content, Not Proofread, Drinking, that scene where alastor uses husk soul chain and threatens him, Unspecified Vices, Mutual Pinning, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Soft Husk, Sorta Bad Written Comfort.

Words: 10567

Note: There is smut, BUT, beside the intro which is just suggestive, the smut will be at the end, so If you don’t want smut and just fluff you can just not read it. It’s the same with my last Zestial work, it’s like 3/4 sfw and 1/5 smut. Btw Antonio Esfandiar aka "The Magician" is a professional poker player and former professional magician, known for his elaborate chip tricks. That’s the only reason I mentioned him if you were curious about that lol.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Honestly, you had attempted to question how things had ended up like that—

“Ah, fuck, Husk, it's too much!” You cried out in overstimulation.

“Shh, it's okay, baby, I know you can handle it,” he reassured, softly stroking the underside of your right thigh to offer comfort.

— But truthfully, every train of thought you’d tried to start would derail quicker than the previous one. Without doubt, that man, Husk— he would be the end of you.

Yet, no need for worry as, I, your illustrious ‘historian,’ am here to recount the tale of how you found yourself in this predicament; as you're obviously too preoccupied getting your brains fucked out by Antonio Esfandiari over there to form any sort of recollection, or even a coherent thought for that matter.

Now, let’s backpedal four months ago, shall we?

You had been in the infernal realm for a little while, precisely half a year. You managed to secure a job and a place to stay, but ‘living’ down here was anything but easy.

To survive, you had to stretch your earnings, rationing food and water to make them last longer than they should, leaving you hungry more than once.

And when you were really desperate for cash—well, let's just say you had to resort to some unsavory means to get your hands on it.

Additionally, it had been a month since Princess Morningstar introduced her hotel to the public of the hell on 666 news. As expected, the masses of sinners inhabiting the pride ring ridiculed the princess and her redemption-themed endeavors.

Initially, the idea seemed far-fetched, as if redemption were truly an option — Why hadn't anybody else proposed it before?

That's what you and your friends had agreed upon when first watching the interview. But as time passed, you began to reconsider your friend group's shared consensus. Perhaps, just maybe, ‘redemption wasn't such a crazy concept after all.’

That's why you now found yourself standing in front of the princess's Hazbin Hotel, formerly known as Happy Hotel, nervous and with slightly sweaty palms.

Summoning all the courage you could muster, you knocked on the large, stained glass-filled windows, as ‘it was now or never’.

After waiting patiently for about five minutes, just as you were about to turn away—possibly never to return—as the building seemed vacant. The large doors swung open, revealing the princess herself standing before you.

"Um, is this the redemption hotel from the news?" you inquired, even though it was plain as day from the building's illuminated 'Hazbin Hotel' sign and the fact that the princess, the one who pitched the hotel on 666 news, was literally standing in front of you.

With the brightest and most joyful smile you'd seen down here, she opened her mouth to speak. "Oh mygod!Ohmygod!Ohmygod!Areyousomeonewho’sactuallyinterestedinthehotel???likeyougenuinelywanttotryandgiveredemptionashot???!!!Holyshit,thisisthehotel’sgreatestsinceSirPentioushasjoined!!!!" Princess Morningstar blurted out in a rush, as if she didn't deliver the information fast enough, you would leave.

As you tried to make sense of her rapid jumble of words—something about 'actually wanting to be redeemed' and someone named 'Sir Righteous' or was it 'Sir Delicious'?—you also noticed a crowd of individuals walking closer to the doors.

The group consisted of six people: A woman with an X over her eye, wielding an angelic weapon—'Delightful,' you sarcastically thought.

A grumpy tuxedo cat man with a red bow, his fur acting as some sort of substitute for his lack of shirt; he was also 'sort of handsome, y'know?'.

Then there was a snake man that screamed steampunk; he seemed sort of familiar, but you didn’t remember where you’d seen his slithery mug before.

There was also a tiny woman with one eye; she seemed full of energy and sorta stabby.

Then, second to last, we had—Unholy hell! It’s the porn actor Angel Dust! You remembered the princess mentioning him as a patron here, but you hadn’t expected to encounter him in the flesh and fur.

He seemed to notice the starstruck gaze in your eyes caused by his presence, so he shot you a wink. With a bit of internal fangirling along the way, you finally managed to get your heart rate to go back down.

You then shift your attention back to the rest of the crowd and notice the final person standing there, and HOLY SHIT, THE RADIO DEMON IS THERE—!

Your heart rate shoots back up, and you take a step back in fear, causing you to stumble over a pebble and fall on your ass. You curse yourself for being too engrossed in the sight of a celebrity to ignore the immense danger that is literally right there in front of you.

"Why, hello there, and who might you be, you wayward soul? It’s not often that we see sinners seeking out redemption." the Radio Demon inquired, accompanied by what you could only assume was his ‘iconic smile’.

You obviously didn’t know firsthand, as, for one, you hadn’t met the demon before, and for another, he was apparently in the sixth year and a half of his seven-year getaway when you manifested.

But you had heard the stories, and they were enough to make you absolutely petrified at the sight of that grin plastered on his face.

He seemed to rather enjoy your pitiful display, while you only grew more terrified.

“Oh no, are you okay? Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” The princess asked, breaking you away from your scared state and extending her hand.

With a bit of hesitation, you took it. “Uh, no. No, I’m okay, it was just a little fall.” you told her.

“Oh, okay, I’m glad it was nothing. Anyways, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, we are so glad to have you here!” She said as she began to lead you inside, and the others followed, each finding their place within the hotel;

The cat man heading to the bar, Angel Dust lounging on one of the couches, the little woman chasing bugs around, and both the radio demon and the spear-wielding woman following you and Charlie.

Once she had you comfortably seated on one of the lounge's couches, she began to introduce herself and everyone present. “Sooo, hi. I’m Charlie, the owner and founder of this hotel.”

“I think she already knows who you are, princess” the cat man interjected. “Oh, right,” she realized.

While all you could think upon hearing him speak was, 'Fuck. Even his voice is sexy.'

“Anywho, this is Alastor, our gracious facility manager.” Charlie said, pointing at the Radio Demon. “Your pleasure to meet.” he told you.

“And this is Vaggie, the co-founder and my girlfriend.” Charlie continued. Vaggie approached you, and you shook hands. “Nice to meet you.” she said. “Likewise.” you responded.

“Next up, we have Husk, our bartender, and Niffty, our cleaning staff.” she gestures towards the bar. “Nice to meet you.” Husk offers, while Niffty chimes in with a big, eccentric “Hello!”

“And lastly, we have our residents and your potential fellow guests if you decide to stay.” she adds with a slightly unsure chuckle. “Angel and Sir Pentious!”

“No offense, Charls, but the broad probably knew who I was, no need for an intro.” Angel quips teasingly before approaching you. “But anyways, it’s good to see a new face around here, so welcome, toots.” he says, extending his hand, which you shake. “Thanks for your hospitality.” you reply.

Feeling a little less on edge, you approach the final resident. “Sir Pentious, right? It’s nice to meet you.” you say, extending your hand. “Oh, no, darling, the pleasurrre izzz all mine.” he replies, shaking your hand. Just as you finish, you hear a small gasp from Charlie.

You turn to look at her, and she says apologetically, "I totally forgot to ask you for your name! I am so sorry for that." With a comforting smile, you tell her, "It’s no worries, really. I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you again, I guess."

“Nice to meet you again too, Y/N,” she says with a giggle. Then she adds, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what brought you to the hotel? I mean, what led you our way?”

“I saw your interview on 666 news with Katie Killjoy a month ago.” you tell her.

“Oh, you did? Um, did you see alllll of it?” Charlie asks, momentarily shocked and a little nervous afterward, but you understood why.

“If you’re talking about the fist fight and the news anchor on fire, yes, I did. It’s probably the thing most people remember from that news segment.” you answer her, confirming her assumptions.

“Oh, right.” Charlie says, a little embarrassed.

“Well, if you saw that, then why are you here? Are you trying to mock us in person?” Vaggie asks you, getting slightly defensive as the interview was not the best display of the hotel.

“No, nothing like that.” you reassure at first. Then you continue, “Well, actually, at first when I saw it on the news, I definitely laughed at the idea of a redemption hotel. So did my friends. Actually, I think everyone did. I heard from one of my imp friends that even in the other rings, people were making fun of it.” You say, deflating Charlie further and further with each word.

"But," you begin once more, bringing back some sort of hope to her,

"The more I thought about it, the less crazy stupid it all seemed. I mean, at first, I was like, 'If it's such a good idea, why didn't anyone think of it before?'.

Then, with more reflection, I realized that even if someone had pitched something like it before, there wouldn't be a big trace of it anyways.

I mean, you saw how people reacted when you presented it; it was made fun of and forgotten by most.

Also, considering the fact that the powerhouses of our ring profit from the fact that there are people down here to exploit, even if someone had the same idea and people to back them up, it would definitely have been shut down and covered up.

Because if people get redeemed and get out of hell, the big fishes don’t make as much profit anymore." You explain, and this seemed to reason with Charlie and the others around.

“Honestly, I think the only reason you don’t have people directly targeting you and your hotel is because you’re the princess. I mean, sure, people can make fun of you, but actually attacking you, well, that’s a no-go territory,” you add on.

And everyone, even Charlie, who seemed to like staying in the delusion that ‘in every demon there is a rainbow,’ couldn’t help but agree. If she wasn’t the princess, there was sure to be some people coming by and hurting everyone here, ‘just because.’

“Anyways, when I made peace with the concept, I thought, why not me when it came to redemption. I mean, sure, I did some unsavory things to end up down here, but I wasn’t some serial killer or sex trafficker either,” you explain further.

“Plus, I have all eternity, well, unless an exorcist’s blade or some Carmine weapon-wielding freak comes my way—“ you slightly deviate but remember to get back on track,

“Anyways, the point is if I can do whatever for ‘basically forever,’ why not give redemption a shot. I mean, worst-case scenario, I just avoid doing bad stuff for nothing, but at least that simultaneously keeps me out of trouble, so it’s not ‘that bad,’ you know?” You finish your explanation and look back at Charlie to see the immense joy in her eyes caused by someone actually taking a full interest in being part of her project.

“Well, I am so glad you think that way, Y/N. And the fact that you decided to come here even though your entourage still thinks, well, that the hotel is a joke, was very brave of you.

Also, just letting you know, as you may not be aware since it was not mentioned during the interview you watched, but here at the Hazbin Hotel, we offer free rooms, food, electricity, and if you're feeling like it, from time to time alcohol, though moderation is more than encouraged.” she informed.

“Well, that’s great. I mean, I didn’t really think about the fact that you may have asked for cash for staying here, but as it is some sort of a ‘nonprofit,’ it does make sense that you don’t.” you tell her in a relieved manner.

“Of course, we want to help people here. It wouldn’t be fair for us to ask money from our guests. Anyways, why don’t I go over what would be your weekly schedule, hotel-wise, as a resident, and then I can show you to your room?” she asked.

“That would be wonderful.” you tell her.

It had been a couple of weeks since you joined the hotel, and you would say that things have been going ‘alright.’

I mean, Charlie’s ‘activities’ were more often silly than not, but they didn’t necessarily do any harm. The hardest part was staying away from your vices—‘that was the real kicker’.

Which brings us to why you were currently seated on a bar stool, gradually drowning yourself in alcohol as Husk poured drink after drink at your request.

"You know, if you keep pushing away your vices but then return here every time instead, you're just fostering a dependence on booze," Husk cautioned, sliding your fifth Midori Sour over to you. "And when you finally have to cut out drinking altogether, you'll likely revert to your old habits. You're turning this ‘rehabilitation thing’ into a sort of yo-yo diet, if you ask me.”

You stared at the drink after finishing your previous one.

— You had first tasted something like it when you went out for your first legal drink at 21, asking for something sweet with a bit of a kick alcohol-wise.

The bartender had recommended it to you, then as you drank it, he went on a rant about how it was "made with Midori melon liqueur, lemon juice, and simple syrup" and that "It's sweet, refreshing, and has a medium alcoholic content" — the “perfect drink for you”.

He was good-looking, like the current bartender in front of you, so you had let him talk—just like you let Husk talk.

Sure, having spent a considerable amount of time down here and living well beyond his twenties, you could acknowledge that Husk did have some wisdom to himself.

However, there were moments — particularly when he embarked on his tangents about how "you won’t find your answers at the bottom of a bottle,"— then, you simply wanted to shut him up.

Whether it was by pointing out that while he might be correct in his assessment, he failed to offer real advice on how to find those answers. Saying shit like "don’t do that, there are better ways to deal with your issues" yet always neglecting to explain what those "other ways" might be — frankly, it was all quite frustrating.

But each time it occurred, you chose to keep your mouth shut to avoid any conflict. After all, from what you had observed, you genuinely liked Husk as a person and didn’t want any tension between the two of you.

Nevertheless, despite your growing frustration with the men, your mind couldn’t help but entertain the other option that would allow you to ‘catch the cat’s tongue’; wondering how quickly he would stop talking if you pressed your lips to his.

Yet, ultimately, it remained a mere fantasy, something confined to the realm of imagination, one never to enter reality. —

“Thanks, Husk,” was all you said as you took the glass and downed your goddamn Midori Sour.

Several hours had passed since your fifth drink, and more than one other had entered your system by now. You and Husk were now discussing on a more personal level.

“It’s all so weird, you know. It’s not like my soul is trapped in a contract like yours or Angel’s,” Husk’s face slightly winced at the reminder that he, in fact, didn’t own his own soul. However, he stayed quiet and let you talk without interjecting, as he respected you and you were pouring your heart out. “Yet, I can’t help but feel like it is,” you told him. “I try to be better, I really do, but it’s so, so hard not to do the bad things I’m not supposed to do when they all feel so fun and right to me in the moment. I mean, I do regret them afterward, but I keep wanting to do them anyway.”

You take a sip of your drink, and Husk follows suit. “You know, you would think the moment I feel the most trapped is right after I’ve done what I wasn’t supposed to,” you muse, contemplating the complexities of your situation. “I had my fun, and as I suffer the consequences, I feel encaged. But it’s not. It’s actually right before I even do it. I feel it in my whole body—a feeling that this is the only way for me, that I can never let go of this high.

No matter how hard I push myself to get better, to be better, I’m not really leaving the cage. I’m just pacing around in circles, pretending that the loop isn’t there and I’m actually getting away.

I just want to run, but I’m afraid that if I actually try, I’ll probably just hit my head against the cage’s bars,” you confess, tears of anxiety welling in your eyes as you begin to sniffle.

With that, Husk grabs your hand and begins to rub soothing circles on it with his thumb, offering comfort in his touch as he speaks up. “Listen, I can’t say that everything will be alright. That's bullshit, and that saying has always been bullshit, but it’s even more full of holes down here,” he pauses to take another sip of his drink, collecting his thoughts. “And I personally know firsthand how it feels to be where you are right now. And I mean it, even without the whole Alastor thing, though it is a big part of it.”

Pausing once more, then taking a big breath, “You know, I used to be an overlord once,” he reveals, capturing your attention even further. “Yeah, and it was nice to have that power. But when you’re dealing with souls while also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. And losing a few hands can be more than a little dangerous. So when you’re down on your luck, you turn to anything to keep you afloat, even making deals yourself.”

Husk continued his story, delving into his past life before he was sent to the underworld. “But even before that shit show, I had another for me up there. Back when I was alive, I was a magician, a pretty big one at that. But at some point, I got into booze. It wasn’t a big issue at first, but it soon spiraled out of control after some other bad choices.

You see, a buddy of mine, another magician, had a gig at Caesars Palace. Being the good friend he was, he invited me along to party with him after his show. And party we did. It was one wild night—we drank, got plastered, enjoyed the company of some lovely ladies and fellas, and, most importantly, we played games.

That night marked my first taste of gambling, and it was exhilarating. I decided to play it safe and not bet too much, but it turned out Lady Luck was on my side. I won big, about two thousand dollars, while only betting twenty bucks.”

Husk paused, reflecting on those memories. “After that, I couldn’t help but come back the next day. Call it beginner's luck or whatever, but I was on a roll. In the span of two weeks, I had made enough money to last me two lifetimes.

But back then, it didn’t satisfy me, and it still didn’t when I first got down here either. Anyways, even after hitting such a big jackpot, I didn’t stop. I actually stopped magic altogether and fully transitioned to being a full-time gambler.

And for a while, it worked. But money wasn’t the only thing I got greedy with.

The amount of alcohol became too much for my body to take, and one day, I just dropped dead. A cardiac arrest was all it took to end me, while at the time it happened, I was convinced I was on top of the world.

Then I ended up down here. So, after spending quite some time just drowning myself in alcohol, only to make my alcoholism worse, I sort of got back on my feet. I became powerful and an overlord, but you already know how that went.

The both times I thought I was indestructible were also the both times when I was the reason behind why I got destroyed.”

You took hold of Husk's hand back, no longer content to simply let him hold yours.

“So now, every time I'm about to take a swig or play a game, while I may be confident in my skills, I can't shake the feeling that if I wanted to seek something else out, a different career path or way of life, I just couldn’t — that I've already burned those bridges for myself for all of eternity.

I feel trapped by my own actions and technically am too, but the worst part is that I don’t know if I’ll ever break free. But you, as you said, still have your soul. So maybe, even if it feels insurmountable right now, you can find the key to your cage and finally step out of it. And maybe, if you’re feeling generous, you can come by and try to find mine with me.”

Husk's way of speaking offered a different kind of comfort compared to Charlie's approach. Yet, it somehow brought you closure. It was honest and reliable, two things hard to find down here.

You gently squeeze his hand in a gesture of support before speaking up, "If I manage to find that key and finally step out of my cage, I promise you'll be the first person I’ll help find theirs, Husk." Your words are accompanied by a warm smile, which he reciprocates.

"Well, if you're the type to make empty promises, then I'm afraid to tell you but you're stuck with that one now, sweetheart. I'll hold you to it.” he teasingly responds, lightening the mood. "You wouldn't back out after giving a poor old soul like myself hope, now would you?"

"Never!" you assure him, the tears now long gone.

Following that evening, you and Husk grew closer, engaging in deeper conversations with each other than with the other residents.

It proved surprisingly effortless to open up to him once he shed his ‘old wise bartender’ persona. Despite the decades that separated you, both of you felt understood by the other.

Thus, when you began suggesting to Husk that you hang out together outside of the hotel, it didn't take much persuasion to get him on board. You believed it would be beneficial for him to step outside the confines of the hotel, considering it was in some part the physical manifestation entrapment.

Additionally, you planned to avoid places like casinos or bars to help both of you steer clear of your vices.

You envisioned a delightful day filled with laughter and happiness, far from anything that could potentially cause harm to either of you.

That's why you found yourselves in the fourth clothing store of the day. While you had picked up a few items from each previous store after some browsing, Husk had merely glanced around without finding anything to pique his interest.

As you perused the winter section, you stumbled upon the perfect ensemble: a charming white knitted skirt adorned with two small fluffy pompons, complemented by a matching top and a white bubble coat trimmed with fur.

Knowing you already had the perfect shoes to complete the look at home, you approached Husk with the outfit in hand.

"Soooo, what do you think of this one?" you inquired, prompting him to turn away from whatever had captured his attention to inspect your find.

"Hmm, well, it doesn't seem like it covers much. Are you sure you found it in the ‘winter section’? You'd probably freeze your ass off wearing that in the winter cold," he teased with a playful comment.

With an exaggerated sigh and a playful hip pop, you quip, "You just don’t understand, it's all about the 'aesthetic'," adding a fake tone of disdain that prompts both of you to burst into laughter at your absurdity.

Returning to a more serious tone, you inquire, "But really, aside from the fact that it's not exactly suitable for cold weather, what do you think of it?"

"Well, if we overlook the fact that you'd freeze solid walking outside in this, I have to admit the outfit is pretty nice. I think it would suit you," he replies earnestly before adding with a teasing voice, "and your aesthetic," eliciting more laughter from both of you.

You then notice something in his hands and ask, "Anywho, what do you have there?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just a little trinket that caught my eye. I probably won't buy it, though," he says, showing you the item—a watch with a roulette pattern on it. It was a bit pricey, but not overly extravagant. It looked cute and suited him well.

"It looks really nice. It would suit you very nicely," you tell him, and he smiles sheepishly in response.

"You think so? Thanks. Well, I'm going to put it back. You seem to be done with this store, so I shouldn't keep it in my hands. Wouldn't want to walk out of the store with it without paying," he says, trying to act nonchalant, but it's obvious he's a bit disappointed.

As you consider his situation, you realize that the hotel doesn't really pay Husk to work there, and all the money he used to make was based on gambling.

By staying away from it, he's basically broke now. With that realization, you make up your mind;

"Oh, wait. If you're not going to buy it, you won't mind if I do," you tell him, the gears turning in your head.

"Oh, yeah, no problem," he says as he passes the watch in its box to you.

You then proceed to the checkout and pay your dues. You ask for a separate bag for the watch, which earns you a slightly confused glance from Husk, but you don't mind. As you step out of the store, you suggest going out for ice cream to finish your outing, and he has no problem with it.

As you both enjoy your dessert, you pause to retrieve the bag containing the watch. "Here, this is for you," you tell him, offering the gift.

"Gosh, Y/N, I can't accept that. It's a very nice gift and all, but I can't just take it for nothing. I really appreciate it, really, but I don't deserve it," he rambles to you. Before he could delve further into why he possibly 'didn't deserve it,' you stop him.

"Listen, Husk, it's no problem. I have the money, so it's no big deal for me. Plus, you've become a dear friend of mine by now. Is it that bad for me to want my friends to have nice things?" you ask him.

"No, but I don't think such pricey things should be handed out to anybody just because 'you have the money,'" he states.

"But Husk, you're not just anybody, you're someone dear to me, someone I care about. When I saw the watch, I could only picture it on your wrist. I bought that watch for you and you only.

Also, before you mention returns, that store has a no-return policy.

And lastly, if you feel that bad about it, telling yourself you don’t deserve it, which is not true, you’re a wonderful man who deserves to have nice things— anyways, I interjected, my point is if you feel bad just take it as; this is a gift from me to you, for spending the day shopping around with me even though you weren’t interested in the stores we were going to,” you tell him kindly. As you see him still hesitating, you add one more thing, “Also, you can just not keep it and sell it if you really don’t want it that badly.” That breaks him away from the self-loathing he was internally building.

“Of course not, I’m not going to sell it. It’s a gift from you, a very nice gift at that, and I would never think of selling it,” he tells you, a bit protective of the gift now, which is what you wanted.

“So, looks like you’re keeping it after all.” you tell him, noticing a slight pout on his face as he realizes his words, but then he playfully rolls his eyes and now has a grin on his face. ‘Looks like he has finally accepted the gift.’

"Anyway, thanks for the watch. I’ll make sure to start wearing it as soon as we get to the hotel.” he tells you with that charming smile of his.

"I told you it was no problem." you reply, your face mirroring his.

"Also, if you're comfortable with buying me watches out of the blue, does that mean you would be into being my full-time sugar mommy—" he jokes, which you quickly shut down with a "Not even in your dreams." making both of you laugh once more.

Hangouts like this one continued, ranging from outings to different venues like theaters and restaurants to engaging in activities at the hotel.

For instance, Husk took it upon himself to teach you poker once you mentioned your lack of knowledge in the game.

It was a fun experience, filled with laughter. Turns out, you were quite good at it, although never as skilled as Husk, which occasionally led to moments of rage on your part. However, these instances always ended in laughter.

Currently, you were enjoying a drink with both Husk and Angel at the lounge’s bar;

“You’d think with all that money, he would be able to buy prescription glasses that looked like his current sunglasses,” you commented after Angel mentioned his boss, Valentino's poor eyesight.

“That's what I said! Like, if you're going to be a horrible piece of shit who literally built his empire off being one, you could at least get custom glasses so you could stop looking like an absolute moron when you read or count money. He quite literally spent half an hour counting three bills! How ridiculous is that?” Angel exclaimed, his voice fluctuating in pitch due to the alcohol.

In fact, all of you were a bit tipsy. Each of you displayed it differently—Angel was very excitable and giggly, you felt more sleepy, inclined to lie down, and Husk was more tactile, currently holding one of your hands while using the other to pet your head between sips of his drink.

That last part finally seemed to dawn on Angel, and he couldn’t help but point it out to both of you.

“So, did y’all fuck?” The effeminate fellow inquired.

“What?” You and Husk asked simultaneously, both of you pulling away from each other, visibly flustered.

“I mean, you’ve been getting cozy since we sat down, and I get that you two are ‘friends,’” Angel sarcastically emphasized the word 'friends' with air quotes, “but honestly, every time we get together and drink, you two are always holding each other. Sure, you're not openly cuddling and all, but I can’t remember the last time you weren’t holding hands when drinking. So, I think it’s reasonable for me to ask if you two are fucking” Angel explained his logic, leaving both you and Husk to face the current situation.

Despite Husk initiating the physical contact himself and you allowing it, as well as both of you holding hands, neither of you were aware of how intimate your actions appeared until Angel mentioned it.

It seems somewhat unbelievable, but it’s true.

Neither of you were consciously planning it; your bodies simply expressed your subconscious desire to be close to each other without either of you realizing it.

“Um, no, we didn’t,” you tell Angel, your voice quieter than before out of embarrassment.

“Yeah, we haven’t done anything like that,” Husk admits, matching your tone. Usually, even when talking to Angel, who was a dear friend to both of you, Husk would be more closed off about the sexual or romantic aspect of his afterlife. But the alcohol and the close proximity to you—his comfort person—seemed to have helped him be more open.

Taking a gulp of his drink and finishing it, Angel then speaks up once more. “Then do y’all wanna hook up?” he asks nonchalantly, to which both of you reply with a simultaneous “Angel!”

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," he says, accompanied by a laugh. The conversation is dropped, yet both you and Husk couldn't help but still glance at one another throughout the night, sometimes even making eye contact, which left both of you further flustered.

After Angel's comment, the next few days between you and Husk were awkward as both of you became more aware of each other's thoughts.

Neither of you outright rejected the idea of sexual attraction, and to be honest, you both had a feeling that the other felt similarly when it came to romance.

It was just awkward to actually express it, so for about a week or so, you avoided each other.

But soon the awkward tension began to dissipate. You were just more aware of each other's and your own actions, so if someone did something that crossed the lines of just being friendly, both of you would be aware of it being intentional.

For example, just like now as Husk is teaching you how to play pool;

There's nothing wrong or inappropriate about teaching your friend pool. Even when your friend corrects your form, it's still an innocent action to help you enjoy the game further as you learn the proper way to play.

However, Husk didn’t just show you how to score and watched what you did then correct your flawed form.

No, no, no, Mr. Husk over there didn’t even bother showing you beforehand how to score. He just directly positioned himself behind you, grabbed your hands, and guided you to grab the cue stick, all the while softly whispering in your ear as he directed your movements, explaining what he was doing and how it affects gameplay.

As to why Husk became so bold after a week of avoiding each other, you weren’t sure. And truth be told, he was just tired of burying his feelings deep down to avoid ruining your friendship, especially now that he knew you felt the same way he did.

That day, when you first opened up about your struggles, he felt a deep connection to you.

And when you bought him the watch, it struck a chord with him. Although he wasn’t usually one to focus on material possessions, the fact that you had spent so much on him so effortlessly meant a lot.

Especially when you insisted on him keeping it, expressing that you wanted him to have something nice.

In that moment, he felt deeply cared for, his heart racing as you assured him he deserved it and that he was dear to you.

So today, he decided to take matters into his own hands. If he had misinterpreted your signals and you rejected him, at least he would have tried, rather than spending eternity wondering ‘what if?’

"Then you do it like this," he says as he guides your hands through the motion, and you score. "You’re doing so good.” he murmurs softly near your ear. You'd like to think about the fact that praise wasn't necessary since he was literally guiding your movements, but all you could think about now is; how nice it feels to be so close to Husk. The warmth of his body against yours, how good his voice sounded so close to your ear—it's overwhelming.

Feeling like you might lose yourself if you don't act, you release the pool cue and turn to face him. Well, by facing him, I mean doing so while nearly touching faces due to how close you were to begin with. It stuns both of you for a moment, but you refuse to back down.

Leaning against the pool table for support, you muster the courage to address Husk. "Husk, um, you're really close right now..." you start, but instead of moving away, he questions, "Do you not like it?"

Feeling even more nervous, you realize lying won't work. You couldn't keep up a falsehood when it would be so obviously untruthful, and you didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "No, I like it," you admit.

"Is that all you like?" he probes further, his boldness surprising you. Before you can formulate a response, he adds, "Because I not only like being this close to you, but I also absolutely adore you." simultaneously softly caressing your cheek.

You're left breathless, muttering a quiet "fuck.." because what else could you say in this moment, besides confessing the to the man you've been attracted to since day one of meeting each other and felled in love with only a couple of months into knowing him.

But before Husk could misinterpret your use of a swear as you not being into him, you summoned all your courage and spoke out, "I also like you, Husk. Like, a lot. I found you hot since I first saw you, and soon after, I started falling for you, it’s an ‘in love-type’ of like you."

"Shit," he exclaimed, covering his mouth in disbelief. "I've also found you attractive since day one, and I think I've been in love with you since you gave me that watch," he continued, lifting the arm wearing it to showcase it. "More specifically, how you were acting towards me when you did it."

You paused for a moment, unsure of what to do next. "So, what do you want to do now?" you asked him.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Right now, all I want is to be as close as possible to you, which is far from my usual way of behaving; I'm usually more planned and collected, but when I'm with you now, I feel like I've lost my compass. Yet instead of being anxious, I feel safe and comfortable. Isn't that weird?" he mused.

"I'm not sure if it is, but if it were, would it be weirder if I felt the same way?" you asked him, to which he chuckled.

"No, I don't think it would be weirder," he replied, his hand still resting on your cheek, which you leaned into it, almost resting your head's weight completely on it.

You gazed longingly at each other for about a minute or two until you broke the silence. "So, do you want to make out?" you asked, with ‘that’ slight goofiness in your voice that Husk had come to love.

"Fuck yeah!" Husk exclaimed, mirroring your tone of voice.

His hands transitioned from holding your face and the cue stick to one of them softly gripping your hair from the back of your head —pulling you in— while the other rested on the small of your back for support.

Then your lips finally connected:

As your lips met, you felt an explosion of passion and chemistry that you had never experienced before. Your heart raced, and your pulse pounded in your ears as your mouths danced.

You couldn't believe this was happening. Husk, the gruff and often apathetic demon you befriended, was kissing you with so much intensity and desire. It was as if all his pent-up emotions and feelings were released in that single moment.

His grip on your hair tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him, and you could feel his heart beating just as fast as mine. You kissed hungrily like your (after)lives depended on it, your tongues entwining in a dance that made you shiver — especially the texture of your companion’s.

His tongue was in between one of a human and one of cat, it wasn’t unpleasant, quite the opposite actually. It did make you wonder how it would feel on other areas of your body. Also, something else to note was that he tasted like whiskey and smoke and honestly —you couldn't get enough.

Continuing on your movements, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting every inch of him. He groaned softly against your lips at that, breaking the kiss for a moment, and you could see the ‘need’ and ‘want’ in his eyes. They were filled with passion and affection, just like yours. He moved to kiss your jawline, trailing kisses down your neck, and you gasped softly, feeling his warm breath against your skin.

After a quick swipe at your collarbones, Husk's lips returned to yours, this time with even more fervor.

His kiss was deep and intense, as if he was trying to consume every part of you.

Your hands slid down his back, feeling his soft fur under your fingers. You could feel his muscles through it, and you loved the feeling. His hands shifted from the small of your back to my waist, pulling you closer to him, your bodies pressed tightly together.

The heat from your bodies mingled, creating an intoxicating warmth between you — a warmth you never wanted to ever quit.

As the intensity of the kiss lessened, your lips started to meet in smaller, delicate pecks. These little kisses were just as passionate as the previous ones, but they carried a different kind of emotion—endearment and love.

Each kiss was more intimate and loving than the last, sealing your connection in a way that words could never explain. Your hands still roamed each other, exploring, but with a gentleness to them.

Husk's hands moved from your waist to your sides, and you could feel his thumbs softly tracing circles on your waist. One of your hand still rested on his back, stroking softly, feeling every muscle, while the other was somewhat on his shoulder.

Finally, breaking the sweet pecks, you pulled away slightly, both panting and slightly out of breath. Your eyes locked, filled with a feelings so profound it was evident you had fallen hard for each other.

Husk gently grabbed the hand that was in his shoulder, pressing it to his lips with a soft kiss. His gaze met yours once again, and you could see the love and adoration shining in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful." Husk whispered, reaching out and gently cupping your face once more.

"Thanks, Husk. You're quite handsome yourself," you tell him with a smile. Then you add, "Anywho, does that mean we're dating now?"

"I'd like that, if you'll have me," he responds.

"There isn't anybody else I'd rather be with." you assure him.

After placing one last kiss on your lips, Husk says, "Same here."

It had been around two weeks since your mutual confession of feelings. Initially, you attempted to keep things low-key by staying in your separate rooms.

However, the amount of time spent together and the display of affection made it evident to everyone in the hotel that you were now a couple.

So, after just a week of attempting to maintain the facade, you both gave up and you moved into Husk's room.

Fast forward to today, the morning had been bustling with preparations for the arrival of Charlie's father, Lucifer, the King of Hell, after she received a call from him.

You pitched in with baking cookies and tidying up, alongside the other residents, to ensure the hotel looked presentable.

Unfortunately, given the hotel's initial state, it wasn't entirely surprising when the chandelier unexpectedly crashed from the ceiling.

What did caught you off guard was the sudden musical performance by the King of Hell, which Alastor swiftly joined, leading to an impromptu song battle between them. Though, the outcome remained undecided, as the duel was interrupted by Mimzy —apparently one of Alastor’s acquaintance— as she introduced herself.

Later down the road, after bothering your boyfriend at the bar, calling him ‘whiskers’, etc., Mimzy then engaged Angel, Pentious, and you in conversation about Alastor and her relationship with him.

But you found yourself more focused on your boyfriend slipping away than on her anecdotes. Consequently, instead of remaining there to listen to her babble, you decided to discreetly follow your boyfriend.

And now, you found yourself hiding around the corner, eavesdropping on the ongoing conversations;

"So once we have proof of redemption as possible, this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into heaven. We just need a little more time to prove it," you overhear Charlie say, but the voices grow distant, making it hard to catch the rest.

What you do clearly hear is a "Hey boss" from Husk, followed by a questioning hum from Alastor. Then Husk adds, "Can I have a word?"

"What is it?" Alastor responds.

"You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs something, that bitch is trouble. And who knows what kind of demon she fucked with to come running into you this time." Husk points out.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, Husker. Who in their right mind would cross me?" Alastor replies.

"I mean, you've been gone a while, and it's not like anybody knows why," Husk states.

"They don't need to know, and don't you worry your fuzzy head about it," Alastor dismisses.

"You may own my soul, but I ain’t your pet," Husk asserts.

Following a giggle, Alastor tells Husk, "But you are."

You're about to jump out to defend Husk, but after husk retorted with “Big talk for someone who is also on a leash.“, the atmosphere shifts, with lights flickering, leaving you petrified, especially after hearing a threatening "What did you say?"

You hear the sounds of chains and a thud, and you can only assume Alastor has dragged Husk to the floor.

"Nothing, I, um," your heart sinks at the panic in his voice, but it drops deeper once you hear Alastor's venomous words: "If you ever say that again, I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to question me."

Husk lets out a very quiet "Understood," and Alastor replies, "Lovely," then some subdued show tunes music starts playing, then Alastor added a "Good talk, my good man. Always nice to catch up."

After the radio demon's steps fade into silence, you finally step out of your hiding spot and rush to a trembling Husk on the floor. The first thing you do is give him a tight hug and whisper softly, "It’s going to be okay, baby. I’m here with you, Husk."

In that moment, you feel a plethora of emotions—concern and worry for Husk, fear because of Alastor, and guilt due to the fact you had stayed hidden while Husk faced Alastor alone, which makes you feel really shitty. But before guilt can consume you, you focus on getting Husk to somewhere secured, like your shared room. Once he's in a safe place, you can apologize.

With your help, Husk manages to stand up, but he's still too shaken up to walk alone. You guide him to the room, and once inside, you help him onto the bed, both of you holding each other tightly.

You softly stroked the back of his head while placing gentle kisses on his forehead. As you do, you can hear him slightly sniffle, holding back tears. It's obvious he's scared, and it's completely understandable.

You kiss his closed eyelids, and finally, the dam broke. He buries his face into your chest, and by the sounds and the wet feeling of your top, you can tell he's crying. He usually handles Alastor’s antics well, but having his soul threatened like that was just too much for him. You squeeze him tighter, whispering sweet nothings and comforting words.

“You’re going to be okay. I know it was terrifying, what you had to face. It would be for anyone. But it’s going to be okay,” you assure him, stroking his fur. Then you speak out once more, “I am so, so sorry, my love. I should have faced him with you, but I was too much of a coward to do so, so I just stayed hidden.” you apologize, and for the first time since burying himself in your chest, Husk peeks his head out. His face looks puffy from the tears, but what stands out is the empathetic look in his eyes.

“It’s… it’s okay, Y/N. Alastor—that guy, he’s terrifying. I don’t blame you for not jumping in when he got all crazy like that.” he reassures, but you can't rid yourself of the remorse.

“But I should have! That's my duty as your partner, to stand by you! What if he had snapped, and… and,” you say, strong but full of guilt. As you reach the last part, you start to stutter as thoughts rush into your head, and quieter you say, “and he had acted out on those threats.”

As Husk listened to you apologize, he couldn't help but pull you closer, his heart aching for the pain you knew you felt. His fingers traced gently along your soft skin, trying to soothe the distress within you. "Y/N, it's alright... I understand why you didn't intervene," He whispered, trying to make you feel better. His gaze fell upon your damp eyes, and he felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him. "Alastor has a way of intimidating even the strongest of us, and you're no exception."

"I've been dealing with him for years, and it's taken a toll on me," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t expect you do anything in that moment, it would have potentially put you in harms way if you did. But know this, I appreciate that you came to comfort me when I needed it most." He could feel your heart pounding against his, and he held you tighter, hoping to ease your anxiety.

"I won’t get into that creepy smiling freak’s way, so he won’t do anything to me, I promise," Husk added, offering a small smile.

As you and him embraced, you felt your hearts beat in sync. Your love for each other was strong, and you knew that together, you could weather any storm.

"Mm, I guess you’re right, Husk," you said softly, your hand stroking his back in a comforting motion. "Despite my guilt, I know we’re both doing the best we can, and I'll always support you no matter what." Your words filled him with a sense of security, knowing that you were there for him through thick and thin.

"I'm glad we're in this together," he replied, his tone soft and grateful. "Even if I wasn't there for you when you needed me today, remember that I'll always have your back, no matter what Alastor throws your and our way." You tell him.

Slowly, you began to ease the tension between us by changing the subject. "Hey, do you remember that time we went to that haunted carnival in the outskirts of Hell for one of Charlie’s activity? And we got stuck on that horribly broken down Ferris wheel?" you chuckled, thinking back to the ridiculous adventure we embarked on. "We were both terrified, but we laughed our asses off, eventually.”

As he recalled the haunted carnival adventure, a soft smile formed on his face, and you couldn't help but join in his laughter. "Oh, that was a nightmare! The way we clung to each other while trying to escape that damned Ferris wheel, and we still ended up covered in cotton candy," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "I thought we'd never make it out alive."

"And don't forget about the ghostly fortune teller who told us we would be together forever," he added, giggling. "I mean, look at us now – ‘living’ proof that she was right!"

Your shared memories brought a warmth to your hearts, and tou continued to laugh about your past misadventures, pushing away the shadows of your current worries. Together, you found solace in the lightness of laughter and the strength of your bond. As you reminisced, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his heart overflowing with gratitude for this moment.

"You know, Y/N," he said, my voice warm and filled with love, "I wouldn't want to face any challenge with anyone else by my side.”

The warmth of his words washed over you, and he knew that he wanted to show you how much he appreciated your unwavering support. Leaning in, he whispered softly, "I'm glad you were here to comfort me. To show my appreciation, I want to give you something in return – a little treat for being there when I needed it most."

“Husk, baby, you know I didn’t do it for a reward.” You argue

“But I want to.” He tells you, with a look full of passion, his eyes drifted lower, taking in the sight of your delicate shorts, and he knew what he wanted to do next. And that made you weak, and you sorta blanked.

Gently, he untangled the fabric from your legs, revealing your soft, inviting skin. "Please, let me make you feel loved and appreciated too," he said, his voice low and full of desire.

As he next removed your underwear, he could feel your protests beginning to fade under the intensity of my gaze. With a determined smile, he leaned in close, pressing his lips to your skin. "I want to reward you, Y/N," he explained, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh. "Let me show you how much your support means to me."

Husk, typically recognized for his gruff exterior, revealed a tender side as he concentrated on satisfying you. His lips delicately trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, eliciting shivers down your spine.

Understanding the necessity of getting your mind off things if you wanted to get better —as dwelling only exacerbates the pain— he found solace in showering his beloved girlfriend with feelings of desire and appreciation. In his view, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, serving to uplift both of your spirits, a win-win per say;

Gently, folding your legs and pushing on your thighs to stabilize you, Husk then parted your folds with his free hand, his eyes locked on the sight before him. He took a deep breath, inhaling your sweet scent, which only intensified his desire. With a purposeful hunger, he removed his hand and opted to substitute it with his tongue.

He leaned in and licked you, his tongue exploring every inch of your folds, the sensation was supreme, especially with that unusual tongue of his. As the wet muscle adventures further in your nether’s, its odd texture only becomes more pleasurable.

Especially when he would suck at your clit and let the tip of his tongue dance around it as he did. Every stroke, every caress; they spoke volumes of his appreciation for your unwavering support.

Your breath hitched as pleasure slowlybegin to build into something bigger. The intensity of Husk's actions were overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan in response.

"Husk, I..." you murmured, uncertain if you should continue, your voice trembling with a mix of lust, love, and ‘the obvious fact that he was making you feel too good to speak normally’. But before you could protest or anything like that, he silenced you with another expert stroke of his tongue, his eyes meeting yours with determination and love.

As Husk continued to pleasure you, he knew his actions were doing more than just giving you physical gratification; they were conveying his appreciation for your presence in his life—and that sentiment was mutually understood. And he loved that he could do it that way and you would both comprehend it.

Bringing back his hand into the mix , his skilled fingers—carefully used not to scratch you— and tongue worked in harmony, driving you towards a climax that mirrored the depth of his feelings. Your moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of your pleasure, and he couldn’t help but relish in ‘those lovely noises of yours’.

With a final flick of his tongue, Husk drew you to the edge, your body arching in response. "That's it, baby" he whispered, his voice low and seductive, yet still comforting. "Let go for me, let me see you shine."

In that moment, you surrendered to the sensations coursing through you, your body trembling and your last scream of pleasure echoing in the room. Husk watched as you reached your peak, his heart swelling with pride…

As you begin to come down from your high but not quite over it yet, Husk couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful state your real ease had caused. His heart continued to race as he regained steady breathing after momentarily being out of air while devouring you, he couldn’t help but want to experience it again. Softly, he lifted your legs and placed them on his shoulders, giving himself better access to your glistening hole and folds.

“Wait, husk I-“ you begin after realizing the change in position but you were promptly cut off as husk begin to lap at your essence directly from the source.

"You deserve this, my love," he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. "I want to make you feel good, as much as you've made me feel supported."

With renewed vigor, Husk dove in once more, his tongue tracing familiar paths and exploring new ones. Your breath jiggered, and your back arched as he took you on another sensual journey that started in overstimulation. His grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, taking full control—you couldn’t run even if you want to.

He aims directly at your weak spot, and way he was sucking at your clit was just driving you absolutely mad. You gripped at his head, still unsure if you wanted to pull him away or bring him closer. He was precise and targeting but there was some hungry sloppiness to his technique.

As your second climax approached, Husk could feel your body tense, and he knew that he was about to witness something truly beautiful once more. Your cries of pleasure grew louder, and just as promised, the way your body convulsed and your face contorted was marvellous, what was not expected but still welcome was the fact that you had squirted, causing your arousal to coat his face and chest.

His eyes widened in awe, and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight. "Damn, you're something else." he said, his voice filled with want but also a little teasing tone to it.

Even as you settled back onto the bed flat, Husk couldn't shake off the image of squirting. His eyes locked on your glistening skin, and he knew that he wanted to see it again. His hand travel to your face, thumb brushing lips sensually, a longing look in his eyes "One more, my love," he whispered, his voice filled with determination. "I want to taste you again and see that beauty of yours unfold once more."

With a hunger that rivalled the one he had when bringing you to your first two climaxes, Husk dove in for the third time, his tongue seeking out your sensitive spots.

He craved the taste of your essence, the sound of your cries, and the sight of your strong release. You soon begin to trembled beneath him, quicker than previously but it was understandable, two orgasm in a row was about to make extra sensitive.

“Ah, fuck, Husk, it's too much!” You cried out in overstimulation.

“Shh, it's okay, baby, I know you can handle it,” he reassured, softly stroking the underside of your right thigh to offer comfort before getting his strong grip back on it.

As Husk continued to stimulate you, drawing you closer to nirvana, you found yourself liberated from all worries. In that moment, there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

As your third orgasm of the night peaked, you let out a final cry, your body convulsing with overwhelming euphoria. Once more, you squirted, coating Husk's face with your essence. This time, however, he caught most of your fluid in his moth and swallowed them, and the drops that didn’t make, he licked them off of you, his eyes close for an instances as he savoured your liquid arousal, then his eyes locked back on you.

"Oh, Husk," you breathed, your voice ragged with pleasure and emotion. "That was incredible."

He wiped the remaining droplets from his face with a satisfied grin and licked at it to make sure he gotten everything, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, his voice filled with love and satisfaction.

As you lay there, breathless and spent, Husk pulled you into his arms, his heart beating in his chest. Regaining back some of your sense, this scenery confused you a bit:

“What about you?” You inquired as he had yet to get release himself.

“Honestly the emotions and the time I spent between those sexy thighs of yours got me to tired to want anything more than to cuddle you right now.” he admired with a tired smile, which made giggle.

Your bodies still entwined, Husk leaned in and pressed his lips gently against yours. The kiss was soft, filled with love and appreciation, and it left you both feeling even more connected than before. Right here and there, you knew that despite the challenges you faced further down the road, you were in this together.

Slowly, Husk wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and you felt safe and loved in his arms. "Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "The cuddling, reassuring words, and this; they really help me calm down and feel better. I know I can rely on you when you do these things, and I strongly hope you can on me."

You nestled your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Of course I do, and don’t forget—I'll always be here for you, Husk," you promised, your voice filled with reassurance. "No matter what comes our way, I'll have your back, just like you do for me."

As the two cuddled and basking in the afterglow of your shared euphoria, you knew that your bond had grown stronger. Nothing could bother the two of you right now—except perhaps the fact that you would have to get up to bathe and change the sheets soon, but that was a problem for the ‘30 minutes to one hour future yous.’

Thanks anons for requesting!

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#tswhiisftteedr #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #husk hazbin hotel #husk smut #husk x you #husk x y/n

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 22 days

Note

hiii I was wondering if you can do an accidental confession with mitsuya or izana (whoever you choose is totally fine). like we're talking to Draken or someone about our crush on mitsuya or izana and they hear you talking about them and they confess to us after. if not, it's totally ok. have a good day/night<3

Unexpected {Mitsuya Takashi}

A/n: It took me a few days to write this not because I was stalling but because I was actually thinking who the best choice was. Izana would never do something like that as it is very out of character for him so in the end I chose Mitsuya. I hope you like this and thank you for requesting

Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x reader

Trigger Warnings: none

If it hadn't been for Yuzuha, you and Mitsuya would have never even met each other. Back at your first year in university, you were sitting at one of the very few benches at the campus, talking with your friends when all of a sudden you felt a light tap on your shoulder. That was Yuzuha and that girl... she was confident as hell.

It didn't take her long to explain how one of her friends had seen you and thought you could be one of his references for his current project at the time. At first, you weren't convinced but all it took was one look at Mitsuya and you knew he wasn't really joking.

From then on, the rest was history. The two of you became friends and etc etc. The only problem was that back at that day, the only reason you had agreed on going along with Yuzuha was because you'd seen Mitsuya around and long story short you were head over heels for him.

It hadn't taken a genius to figure out that most of the days your breaks were at the same time and more often than not, you took the same train home with you getting off a few stops before him.

Hanging out with Mitsuya, naturally meant that you would meet his friends and truth be told... they were the complete opposite from what you had expected. Not in a bad way, of course, but they weren't nearly as calm and collected as he was.

Apart from Draken.

Draken had this certain aura about him and you knew that if you were to share on of your secrets with him, he wouldn't tell a soul. Maybe he would tell Emma but that depended on the severity of the secret.

Your secret, on the other hand, was one that couldn't be shared with anyone except him. If he told Emma she would certainly tell Yuzuha and Hina and then Hina would most likely tell Takemitchy, Takemitchy would freak out and he would tell Chifuyu, Chifuyu would tell Kazutora and Baji but here was the trick! Chifuyu had recently become good friends with Hakkai. Hakkai never kept his mouth closed and surprise surprise... Mitsuya would certainly know. Along with a few other people but that was equal with collateral damage for the girls.

"I got it, I won't tell a soul, relax." Draken leaned against his bike.

"And do you promise you will help?"

"To the best of my abilities. Now, what is it?"

Do you know the rumour that boys are bigger gossip girls than girls themselves? The look on Draken's eyes could easily confirm that. The rest of his face was stone cold yet his eyes... his eyes shone. They were looking at you in an almost hungry way, eager to know the reason why you had asked him to meet outside the group.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your back and stared back at him. "I like Takashi."

"Oh." The way his posture immediately changed was horrifying. While he looked all eager before he now looked... bored. Was he expecting it? Did Mitsuya hae a girlfriend you didn't know of?

"What do you mean 'oh'?"

Draken didn't reply immediately. He looked at you and then straight ahead for a brief moment before allowing his eyes to fall back on you. "Nah... it's fine. Was that all?"

"Yes?" You replied, raising your eyebrow in suspicion. Had you said something wrong?

There were a million questions running in your mind right now and none of them led to a nice outcome.

"I guess you'll solve it amongst yourselves." Draken shrugged and hopped on his bike. "It was a pleasure, as always." He looked at you with a sly smirk before speading off, leaving you all alone.

You let out a sigh, a sigh that when you arranged that meeting you thought would be one of relief but it was far from it. If it had been one of your friends, there was no doubt you would have gotten mad about it but at the end of the day, you didn't know Draken the way you knew your best friend.

"He can be a dick sometimes." A soft voice came from behind you. Fortunately or unfortunately, you knew that voice well enough. "I am a little sorry because technically... I was eavesdropping."

"Technically?" You turned to look at him.

There he was, leaning against his own motorcycle. Mitsuya's smile was apologetic and you knew that Draken had something to do with him not only being here when he shouldn't but with that stupid smile on his face as well.

"Tell me."

"All of them have picked up on us liking each other and when you contacted Draken, he already knew what you wanted to talk about so he asked me to come."

"Liking each other?" You asked, a little confused. Or shocked. You didn't know.

"Yes and I apologise for not telling you sooner because then I wouldn't have to remake the dress I made for the Milano fashion week Hakkai will model for."

"Excuse me?" This time, it was shock. Pure, unmistakable shock.

"You heard me, now can we go over to mine because I need the measurements of your waist." With one swift motion, Mitsuya handed you his spare helmet and waited for you to hop on his bike.

"Don't you already have my measurements?"

"Not those measurements, love."

#mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #tokyo revengers mitsuya x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers mitsuya #writing #anime and manga #anime #manga #tokyo revengers #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya tokyo revengers #mitsuya fluff #mitsuya x you

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lnfours · 10 months

Note

SEQUEL TO HAUNTED W CONRAD! Where she finds out 👀👀

oh fuck. warnings: mentions of death, cancer and mental health

'haunted' | inbox

you hadn't seen conrad at all the rest of the summer. it wasn't like you wanted to necessarily see him, either. what was there left to say anyway?

you had gotten to say bye to jere, steven and belly, but ignored conrad with a cold shoulder. you knew you were wrong, but he had hurt you. you couldn't help it.

this summer, the fishers didn't come to their beach house. steven, belly and laurel weren't there. for once in your entire lifetime, the house sat empty, and it only made your heart hurt more.

the icing on the cake was that your mom had seen a for sale sign in the front yard on her early morning jog that morning. the fishers and the conklins were never coming back, and you didn't know why.

you were laying out by the pool your family had put in over the spring, your phone buzzing on the little table next to you. you picked it up, reading the name at the top of your phone screen.

jeremiah fisher

you swiped it over, pressing the phone to your ear, "hello?"

"hey, y/n," you could hear his polite smile and the sound of wind in the background, "are you in cousins?"

you licked your lips, sitting up, "yeah, why? are you guys finally on your way?"

"no, uhm," jere said, "conrad is missing."

"what do you mean 'missing'?"

you heard belly's voice suddenly on the other end, "look, we checked brown already and his roommate said he talked about going to the beach. cousin's is the only beach conrad would ever go to. i know it's a long short, have you seen him or heard from him?"

you let out a shaky breath, "no, but i can check around the town for you guys, how far away are you?"

"couple hours out, still," jeremiah said, "i'll text you when we're crossing the bridge into town."

you nodded, speaking up when you realized they couldn't see you, "okay, i'll text you with updates."

"thanks a lot, y/n." jere said

"you're the best!" you smiled as belly sighed out of relief. you hung up with your friends, tugging your shorts on and slipping into your flip flops. you left the shorts unbuttoned, letting them sit lowly on your hips and your bikini bottoms sticking out from the top.

you made your way over to the fisher house, spotting conrad's car. you swallowed thickly as you walked up to the front door. you knocked, pulling your fist back as you sighed.

there was no answer.

you made your way through the gate and to the backyard. you looked around, a towel laying down on the grass next to the pool, but no sign of conrad. you thought of the last place he would be, walking over to the side of the house and grabbing jeremiah's surfboard. you made your way down to the beach, tugging your shorts off before you made your way into the ocean. you paddled out on jere's surfboard. you let the waves rock you back and forth as you watched conrad surf, smiling to yourself as he pulled off one of the tricks you had shown him. he looked over at you when you clapped your hands.

"nice job, fisher!"

you swore you almost saw a smile on his face as he paddled over to you. you smiled as he floated on his board next to you.

"hey," he said.

"hi," you said back, his hair wavy from the salt water, "didn't think you guys were coming this summer."

he nodded, sniffling as he looked out at the ocean, "yeah, we're... not really supposed to be here."

you looked at him confused, "what do you mean?"

he sighed, "i've got a lot to catch you up on."

you smiled as you squinted out at the waves, "well, i've got nothing but time. hit me, sea creature."

he laughed softly, remembering the nickname you had called him one drunken summer afternoon when he had seaweed all over him from surfing.

"talk over something to eat? i'm starving." he said. you nodded, following him as you both paddled to shore. you threw on your shorts and carried both of your pairs of flip flops as he carried the boards back. he hung them back up on the side of the house, tossing you a towel from the deck. you thanked him as he wrapped one around himself as well, the two of you heading inside.

it was scarily bare in the normally full of life summer house. there wasn't any food in the fridge or the pantry, there wasn't any of the clutter from siblings leaving their things behind. there wasn't the sound of belly and steven arguing in the living room over the tv, and jeremiah wasn't playing music up in his bedroom.

it was eerie. none of it felt like the home you were used to it being.

"i'm gonna order a pizza," he said, "still like your usual?"

you smiled, "yeah,"

he nodded, pressing the phone to his ear as he ordered. you played with your fingers as you waited for him to hang up.

"so," you broke the silence, "what's up? what is that you have to tell me?"

he let out a sigh, looking down at the floor, "my mom's cancer came back last spring. she died a couple months ago."

your eyes watered as you watched him look back up at you with glossy eyes. he continued, "i found out before everyone else and i couldn't tell anyone. that's why i was so shitty to you last year, i didn't know how to deal with loss when she wasn't even gone yet. i'm so sorry. for hurting you."

you wiped the tears from your eyes, getting up from your seat at the island. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a hug. he happily accepted your hug, holding you tight against his body.

"i'm so sorry, connie," you said, "i wish i had known sooner."

he let out a soft chuckle, "i thought you hated me."

you shook your head, brushing his hair from his forehead after you pulled away, "i could never hate you, conrad."

it was silent for a minute, "there's uh... there's more."

you raised an eyebrow, "there's more?"

he nodded, "i also found out that my dad had an affair the same day i found out my mom's cancer came back."

you shook your head, "what a fucking ass."

he nodded, "i know."

you sighed, "anything else happen?"

he let out a chuckle, "found out yesterday the house was going up for sale. apparently, when my mom died, my aunt julia got the house because my mom's half went to her. she wants to sell it and this is the only piece i have left of my mom. the only place that feels like home without her."

you watched as a small tear slipped down his cheek. you frowned, wiping it with the pads of your thumbs.

"c'mere," you said softly, his front breaking down as he nuzzled into your shoulder. you rubbed his back, your other hand playing with the hairs on the back of his neck.

"i'm sorry," he mumbled.

"no, you don't have to apologize," you said, "it's okay. you were going through all of this alone. i just wish you would've told me so you didn't have to."

he held you tighter, "i tried, i just couldn't."

you pulled back, lifting his head by his chin for him to look at you. you smiled, wiping more tears from his cheeks, "well, i'm not going anywhere now, okay?"

he nodded, smiling softly into your palm and pressing a gentle kiss on the skin there.

"i love you." he mumbled against your soft skin.

he finally said it back.

"i love you, con."

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x fem!reader #conrad fisher blurb #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #blurb #fluff blurb

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dreamescapeswriting · 9 months

Text

Room of Mirrors

WORD COUNT: 3.8K

PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

GENRE: established relationships, unrequited love, hidden feelings, kissing, SMUT MINORS DNI, house of mirrors, mirror sex, unprotected sex, lots of fluffy at the end,

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

*********************************

Ten years was a long time to be in love with someone, even longer if you were forced to be that person's best friend for those ten years but that was your reality. It didn't matter how long you'd tried to hold back your feelings for Yoongi, with each passing day they only grew deeper and stronger. Even when you tried to pick him apart and find icks, it was damn near impossible for you not to be attracted to him and it killed you inside.

It wasn't just because he would never see you as anything more than a friend but because years and years ago, when you were both in college together one drunken Halloween night had led to something you were never going to forget. A night of drunken sex and no regrets on your part. You'd woken up the next morning with a giant smile on your face, rolling over ready to greet Yoongi only to find the sheets cold and empty with no sign of him ever being there except the dull aching inside of your chest as you realised he must have regretted sleeping with you.

After that night it was never brought up again, the subject was never touched upon and Yoongi went on like nothing had ever happened. As if you hadn't spent the most amazing night of your life together and he went back to being your best friend.

"I'm telling you, you're going to love this place. Yn and I come every year," Yoongi told his third date of the week. It was getting closer to the holiday season and so Yoongi was looking for someone to spend it with. You'd seen him do this every year for god knows how long, he'd find someone willing enough to spend the colder seasons with him only to let them go as the new year came around. Maybe it was because he wanted someone to cuddle up to at night or maybe he was just a player but you hated this side of him. Not just because you wanted to be the girl he took back to his place every cold night and cuddle with either.

"I don't really enjoy being scared," Summer shyly said as she flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and glanced in your direction. She seemed like such a lovely girl and you hated how jealous you were that it was her on this date and not you. You weren't exactly sure why you'd agreed to come on a date with Yoongi when you were going to spend the whole thing third-wheeling him,

"I can protect you," Yoongi smirked, grabbing her ass and squeezing it softly the mere action making you want to throw up at the sight of it. Couldn't he keep that shit to a minimum while you were around? The last thing you needed to see was the love of your life fawning over so many other girls.

"Yoongi, Yn is right there!" Summer gasped out slapping his hand away from her ass and moving away, You rolled your eyes a little trying to ignore the aching in your chest as you paid for three tickets to the House of Tricks. It wasn't even a scary attraction, it was just a circus house with different treats inside each room, your favourite place to go was the room of mirrors.

It was the one place that no one could hide and for some reason that really spoke to you. No one could mask their feelings because you'd see it in every single reflection you could see.

"Let's just have fun," Yoongi said as he stood near you, your eyes glancing at him before looking forward again. How could he do this? Bring dates along with you as if you were just one of the guys, did you really mean nothing to him? One night of fun for Yoongi and that was enough to determine you weren't worth anything more than his friendly side...Without even talking to you first.

"Yn, let's go to the magic show...We can leave Yoongi to explore on his own." Summer said, before you even had a chance to protest her she'd linked her arm with yours and began to walk with you in the direction of one of the rooms.

"I thought you were on a date with Yoongi." You mumbled trying to get away from her as quickly as possible. All of the girls Yoongi dated were the same, superficial airheads that didn't seem to care for you being Yoongi's best friend and would do everything that they could to get you away from him. Not that you blamed them, they probably saw you as a threat and thought you'd never do anything to jeopardise Yoongi's date no matter how jealous you were of him.

"Dante the Great!" Someone boomed out as you and Summer walked through the door and took a seat in the back of the room, watching the show-up front. A tall man with dark hair stood in the centre of the room, a top hat on his head and a dark rose tattooed on his left hand.

"I will amaze you with my performance," He told everyone but your attention was suddenly on Summer who was eyeing you up closely.

"What's Yoongi like? I don't want to date him if he's playing me." She told you bluntly, your heart racing a little as you stared back at her,

"He's-" But before you could speak she shook her head at you and gave you a pleading look, a look that could seriously come from a puppy and it made your heart clench.

"From girl to girl, please tell me seriously. Is he going to hump and dump?" Your mouth suddenly felt drier than the desert and you had no idea what to even tell her,

"Yoongi is great," You admitted, licking your lips a little as you tried to give yourself a little time to think of what you could say. You weren't about to intentionally ruin his date,

"He's sweet and he's kind, he might come across as a little...harsh to everyone else but he's," You bit your lip a little as you thought about him,

"He's incredible. No matter what time of day it is, if you ever need anything he's there for you. He'll move mountains to help you with anything you need and not to mention he'd climb through barbed wire to make sure you're never hurt." She stared at you, smiling a little as she listened to you talking about him but once you'd started you weren't sure you were ever going to stop.

"He makes you feel as though you're the only girl in the world, that no one else matters because he's there with you. And if you ever say something stupid he'll never laugh at you with it, maybe in the future when you can both laugh but he's never one to be cruel. Never one to be mean," You looked down at your hands, you'd never admitted any of this to anyone not even your diary got to see this side of how you felt about Yoongi.

"He's great, Summer...You should date him," You mumbled a little trying not to get carried away with how you were speaking and you slowly looked up to see her staring back at you with a smirk on her face.

"Summer?" You laughed awkwardly trying to get her to look away from you but she narrowed her eyes at you and shook her head a little.

"I should have seen it before," She told you as she smiled weakly, reaching her hand out and rubbing her thumb along your knuckles.

"You're in love with Yoongi, right?" Your whole world stopped as you stared at her, if she'd seen it so easily why hadn't he?

"That obvious?" You looked away from her, looking at the show as Dante made a rabbit appear from his hat before giving it to someone in the front row. Your eyes glanced back at Summer as she looked at you with a pitiful look on her face,

"Not until you started talking about him, does he know?" You shook your head in answer to her question and she sighed at you,

"Take it from someone who knows from experience. It's better to tell him than to watch him fuck everyone else instead of you." You knew that she was right but were you really about to take advice from her when she was on a date with the man you were in love with?

"But we had one night together, he left without a word about it." You shrugged your shoulders as she stood up, you followed her and made your way out of the room and into the hallway. Yoongi was waiting in line for the mirrored room and you glanced at Summer once again who smiled weakly.

"Look, from girl to girl. If he does that then he's not worth the time of day, but if your feelings are that deep for him, talk." She told you before hugging you tightly, Yoongi frowned from the other side of the hall wondering what had happened between you for this to happen.

On all of the dates Yoongi had been on or had ever bought you to meet you'd never once hugged one of them or seemed as nice toward them.

"Summer. I thought we could go into the mirrored room." He called out as she walked toward him, kissing his cheek softly.

"I'm not really feeling us as a match," She told him plainly as he stared at her. Not feel them as a match? They'd barely spend any time together for her to determine whether or not she even liked his hair cut how could she just walk off? He barely had time to protest before she walked out of the house leaving you and Yoongi alone together.

"Next couple please," The man at the door announced as Yoongi stepped up, you walked toward him before he walked into the room with an unimpressed look on his face. The door behind you shut and locked and you were left alone, just you and Yoongi and your 100 reflections all staring back at you, Yoongi wasn't in front of you and you weren't exactly sure which Yoongi was even the real him but he was glaring in your direction.

"What did you say to her?" He snarled making your heart rate rocket,

"I didn't say anything bad," You told him as you looked around trying to find where he was standing but he kept on the move, making you follow him as you stretched your hands out in front of you trying not to smash your head into glass.

"But clearly it was enough to scare her away." He growled out, he was sick of his dates not working out anymore. Now that it was closer to the colder seasons it was going to get impossible to ignore the date that was coming up. The anniversary of when he'd almost fucked everything up between you and him.

Halloween all those years ago, one drunken night and one you'd forgotten and he was thankful for. When he'd woken up the morning after he'd rushed out of the dorm room to go and grab food and rethink everything that had happened the nights previous. When you'd come to meet him you'd never bought up the night before and he just knew you'd not remembered a single thing.

Now every Halloween when the night would come around he needed a different girl to get lost in, a different girl so he wouldn't throw himself down at your feet and ask for another night just like the one you'd shared years ago.

"She asked me what you were like, I was honest and told her everything." You shrugged, it wasn't a lie and Yoongi could tell. Fuck, he could read you like a book and he hated that. You were everything to him and all he really wanted to do right now was throw himself at you and kiss you.

"She was boring anyway," He admitted, slowly coming out from behind you and holding your hips in his hands, the small contact sending shivers vibrating throughout your entire body. Your eyes locked with his in the mirror in front of you,

"Tell me what you said to her," He whispered, his lips inches away from your ear as you let out a small gasp while his hands slowly trailed the waistband of your skirt his skin coming into contact with yours.

"I didn't, she figure something out." Your voice was shakey, you didn't trust it not to crack on you as Yoongi continued to run his fingers along the elasticated waistband.

"Which was..." His lips slowly lowered until they were hovering above your bare shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as you realised you weren't going to get out of this one. Your breaths became laboured as he placed a small and gentle kiss on your skin, a whimper leaving your throat as you decided to throw caution to the wind.

"That I'm in love with you, always have been and always will be," As soon as the words left your throat you were suddenly span around and pushed up against the mirror, your eyes slowly opened to find Yoongi staring at you.

"Ever since Halloween 2022?" He questioned, it was almost ten years since the day and you nodded your head at him and his eyes scanned yours for any sign that you were lying to him.

"You remembered that night?" He sounded surprised which was confusing to you. Of course, you remembered that night. It was he who had decided to play dumb all these years and act as though nothing had happened between you both.

"How could I not? It was the best night of my life," You scoffed at him attempting to walk away but he placed his hand on the mirror beside your head trapping you between him and the mirror.

"I thought you'd forgotten...You never bought it up." He stuttered a little as you stared back at him, your eyes staring directly into his soul as you bit your tongue.

"Neither did you. I thought you regretted it," You admitted as his hand slowly moved to cup your face in his hands, running his thumb along your soft lip and shaking his head.

"My only regret is going ten years without another taste of you," He growled out, your thighs rubbing together as you felt yourself growing wetter at the thought of it.

"Every year was torture as I thought about Halloween with you," He told you as he ran his hand up your thigh and between the skirt you were wearing and your heart began to quicken.

"Yoongi," You whispered out, clutching onto his bicep as he let out a small chuckle at how nervous you suddenly were.

"We have all the time in the world in here," He whispered to you, already knowing that you were worrying about who could walk inside here but he was right. No one was allowed to enter until the two of you pushed the button on the exit door to let them know you'd made your way through it successfully.

"I need you," He told you as he took your hand and slowly placed it over his hardened cock through his jeans and you let out a little giggle that was like music to his ears.

"You did that all Halloween night, you'd giggle and I couldn't help but feel my heart swell for you," He told you as he ran his hands further up your thigh until he reached the black panties you'd put on that afternoon and your hips jerked forward.

"Please, Yoongi." You begged for something, anything, you just wanted to feel him touching you again it was all you'd been wanting for ten years.

"Ten years I've been waiting for this, ten." He told you as he softly rubbed his thumb over your clothed clit, your head rolling back against the mirror as you let out a strangled moan at his touch.

"Every year there was a different girl because I was terrified if I was alone I'd ruin our friendship," He whines out as he begins to pick up the pace on your clit, your eyes rolling back as you let out a strangled moan of his name,

"Now you're telling me I didn't need to worry about that at all," He tutteed a little at you, pretending to be disappointed as he pulled your panties to the side and sunk two fingers deep into your cunt. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, your hands clutching onto his biceps as he smirked at you.

"Yoongi," You cried out as he began to curl his fingers hitting that one spot that made your legs go numb and your whole world spin. It should have been criminal just how good he was with his fingers, you were a moaning mess in his hands as you struggled to stay standing up straight.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Yn," He told you as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, enjoying the sound of wetness as he thrust them faster in and out of you. Your head rolled back against the mirror as he bit down on his lip and did his best to control himself. God, the number of times he'd imagined doing this with you, every Halloween he'd wanted to take you inside of this room.

Fuck you in full view of yourself so you could see how beautiful he found you, to show you how much he wanted to worship your body and so you'd never forget just how badly he wanted you.

"Yoongi, please." You pleaded as he continued to thrust his fingers, your hips bucking toward him as you felt your orgasm ready to wash over you. He spread your legs further apart somehow hitting deeper inside of you as he continued to drive his fingers into you, your eyes rolling back.

"Cum for me baby, cum for me and scream my name." He growled out his pace picking up as your legs shook in place, your nails digging into his skin and causing him to bleed ever so slightly. Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned out his name, bucking against him as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave your whole body shaking.

"So fucking hot," He grunts looking at you, slowly retreating his fingers from you and sucking them clean all the while staring you in the eyes.

"Turn around and hike up your skirt," He orders as he quickly undoes his belt and frees himself from his boxers, fuck he was bigger than you remembered.

"I'm nervous," You admitted as your eyes met one another in the mirror and he smiled warmly at you, lining his cock up at your entrance.

"I know, but you have nothing to be nervous about," He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck as he carefully pressed into you, inch by inch giving you time to adjust as you let out a small cry.

"Fuck, Yoongi you're too big." You moaned out as he bit down on your ear a little, reaching around you with one hand and squeezing your nipple through the thin fabric.

"I'm perfect for you," He moaned out as he slowly began to withdraw from you, only to push back inside of you again, you were so fucking tight he could barely hold himself together,

"You feel so fucking amazing," He moaned out looking down at you as your breathing picked up, your eye smeeting his in the mirror.

"You're so hot Yoongi," You breathed out, your words giving him encouragement as he continued to thrust his hips in and out of you, bottoming out each time as you clenched around him.

"Fuck," He groans letting his head drop to your shoulder blade, your breathing is laboured as you stare at him,

"I'm so fucking full," You cry out, your hands trying to grip the mirror as you look at one another,

"M-Move, Yoongi...Please," You begged as he slowly began to rock his hips in and out of you, looking down at you as he held your hip in one hand and the other on the mirror in front of him.

"Roll...f-fuck, roll your hips a little," He begged as you began to roll your hips back to meet his, your moans becoming louder as you cried out one another's name.

"I'm so close, I'm sorry." He whined out but you didn't stop rocking your hips back to meet his, you were desperate for him to come you wanted to hear his moans, to watch him as he came for you.

"Don't stop then," You begged as you looked him in the eyes through the mirror,

"Cum, please Yoongi." You begged out as he looked down at you, his hands holding onto you tightly as he began to drive in and out of you, a breathless gasp falling past your lips.

"Yoongi,." You warned him as he hit that spot again and again, a smirk growing on his face as he continued to fuck into that same spot for you. The pressure continued to build at the base of your stomach as you whimpered, legs slipping a little but Yoongi held you tighter keeping you upright,

"Yoongi, Oh my god," You groan out as he continues to fuck into you roughly. Your orgasm erupts as you whimper, bucking against him as your entire body grows numb, your vision blurring as he continues to fuck into you.

"Oh fuck me," He groans out as he comes, his hips stilling as he looks down at you, sweat dripping down your forehead but you'd never looked more beautiful.

"I love you," You whispered as you looked at him, Yoongi grunted as he slowly pulled out of you enjoying the way you pouted and let out a whine of protest at the sudden lack of fullness.

"I love you too," He whispered, cleaning himself off with his boxers before tucking himself away and looking at you. Slowly he licked his lips as the two of you gathered yourselves up ready to go and hit the buzzer to get out. Hopefully the music out in the hallway had muffled the sounds of what you were doing, not that either of you really cared all that much you were never going to see any of these people again.

"Let's go back to mine, have a nice warm bath and then we can watch whatever movie you want." He suggested as you headed out of the house and into the cold night,

"Sure," You kissed his cheek softly very happy with how the night had turned around for the two of you. The two of you walked hand in hand toward his car, a giant smile on both your faces as you did your best to act as though your legs weren't currently like jelly.

****

#yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagines #yoongi suga #min yoongi smut #min yoongi imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #suga x reader #suga imagine #suga imagines #suga smut #min yoongi

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lazywriters-blog · 9 months

Text

SISTER's SUPPORT 2

Summary: You have a story to tell about how you got pushed into a situation by your sister-in-law. Lying didn't get you anywhere.

Since you wanted a part two, here it is. With some sprinkled dark chocolate and layered spooky, I like these kinds of goofy dark scenarios- (not proofread)

You felt like a married couple consoling a raging teen who refused their favorite snack because of something you did. Even if you did, you had no idea of what you did wrong to deserve this, you barely know the twin brother and sister.

Maybe faking it till you make it home safe and sound was a good decision to keep in mind while you slowly and carefully sip your black tea, peering over to the twins who thought taking eyes off of you meant death.

You know they are not bad people, there are only good things you've heard about them in passing, adorable twin magicians with hats and tricks beloved because of it.

You didn't think the sister would have such a temper. Who in their right mind would come forth and throw accusations, unless her dear brother did admire you and you've gone and missed his magic show?

"No need to be coy, you don't need to lie about anything, we know much already. You like my brother too, don't you?"

You couldn't have responded quicker than lyney who gasped and hid his face behind his hand unsure if disappointment or embarrassment was right in his situation. '... Would you please stop embarrassing me and giving me heart attacks?"

"I'm sure he's a good gentleman and-"

"I asked, do you like him or not? Quit beating around the bushes and tell us the truth, that way my brother can rest easy and move on from his unhealthy fixation." She crossed her arms and glared, you are not sure if she's older than you yet.

"Oh... Uh." she's blunt, you were caught off guard, "Well, to be honest, I don't know him. You both are good magicians I've heard, I can't say if I like him or not if I haven't gotten to know him at all."

"Brother, tell her about yourself." She faced him, "You've been pining over a girl who doesn't even know you better than herself and you've been losing sleep over this?"

"Lynette, maybe spare me some dignity and let things happen naturally. Why do you have to rat me out like that?"

"Because I hate seeing you like this."

If you could get up and leave, you would without a second wasted. The twins were bickering while you contemplated your wisest words and phrases, sentences that were guaranteed to get you out of it with your ego intact.

"I said I've lost sleep because of that one failed trick I got wrong, and you were the one to butt in before I could make my move!"

"If I hadn't, this wouldn't be happening! You would be back to stalk-" Lyney quickly put his hand on her mouth and furrowed his eyebrows, as if to say 'Shut up she doesn't need to know that.'

But that expression eased off when he turned around to look you in the eye, "I'm sorry about this, my sister is a little fussy and all, you know..." he nervously smiled, had you not known better or seen it happen you would have believed they had nothing to hide.

"It's fine." What more could you say? They were guilty of dragging you here.

"I am sorry, I am, My sister usually doesn't pull off such stunts, it would be better for us to forget about this and move along." he laughed, but somehow it felt ominous to you, the way he steepled his hand and drop his elbow on the table, he didn't feel threatened anymore.

"Of course, why not," you answered.

"Splendid!" he raised his hands, giving you a tight smile with closed eyes. Giving it a few seconds, he waited for his sister to say something, elbowing her when she didn't.

Were you bonding with the twins? Not really.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but would you like to marry my brother? I'm sure he'll sleep better knowing you are his. He's not a bad guy."

If you weren't there, Lyney wouldn't have kept up his smile and made you see him in a good light, however, his smile still appeared strained.

These two were oddly funny siblings with a sudden tendency to expose each other.

"Lynette..." Lyney hummed in a low voice, and his sister did not even flinch, "Sorry bro."

"Was this conversation about marriage from the beginning? Why didn't you say so? I wouldn't have had to worry so much haha..." how were you supposed to get out of this?

Reacting positively could only get you so far.

"So? Do you approve of my brother? You guys should get married in two days." Nothing seemed to faze this girl.

You looked at Lyney, then Lynette and you weren't sure of what you were going to say anymore.

If you say no, you are certain his sister will tear you to shreds and make sure the rest of your days go on as badly as possible, even saying 'I'll think about it' ingrained the same scenario in your head.

It shouldn't be so bad to say yes, no?

"... Why not?"

Saying no meant more harm than good. Besides, you just wanted to get out of this situation as quietly as possible.

"Bro, you owe me one. When can I expect grandchildren?"

"You mean nephews..." lyney replied.

"Yeah, that."

Tag list

@swivy123 @rotin0

@idontevenknow129 @heartsbyvalentina

#yandere imagines #yandere drabble #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact lyney #lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #lyney #yandere lyney #Kindaa yandere #genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact x reader

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halfmoonshines · 9 months

Text

Sweater Weather

summary; bucky barnes x reader but reader is obsessed with spooky season

fluff fluff fluff

After three years together, Bucky knew when to be prepared for each seasons decorations to make their appearance. November first for Christmas, February first for Valentines day; but the far and above winner was September first for Halloween. And when you decorated for Halloween the house was almost unrecognizable.

This year you'd started a bit early, either because the weather had tipped or Bucky had been gone on a mission for a week. Either way when he stumbled in the door at 2am on the 31st of August, the wall of fake spiderwebs he ran into almost had him screaming.

He was a little jumpy after missions, okay?

He found you still awake in the living room, wrapped up in a blanket that you thought could hide you from the demons in the movie you were watching.

"Bit early isn't it, Doll?"

His voice almost made you jump out of your skin, but that didn't stop your excitement at his arrival home. You were in his arms in the blink of an eye, face burrowed into his shoulder when you replied.

"It's spooky season, Buck."

---

"Can we please grab this? It's a whole different scent."

Falling leaves accompanied shopping for things that smelled like fallen leaves, that was in Bucky's 'Autumn Girlfiend' guide. You were holding an apple-pumpkin candle out to him, the three wicks staring at him tauntingly.

He was sure that you had three candles with the same scent, or a mixture, at home already. But if all it took were some smells to keep that smile on your face he would buy you the whole store. Not that he'd tell you that.

----

He had never seen you this sad on Halloween before, it was like a sacred thing for you. But this was your first year in the new house, and so far it was just passed 8pm and you hadn't received any trick or treaters.

You sat on the couch with a mostly untouched bowl of candy next to you, the only stray wrappers from the ones you'd succumbed and eaten yourself. Bucky stood in the entryway, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

This simply wouldn't do.

He sent off a quick text before coming to join you on the couch, arms pulling you into his chest so you could sit together. "Why don't we watch The Conjuring?"

He could see your spirits lift when you asked. "Really?"

"Of course. Go make us some popcorn, I'll get us set up."

The return text came as you entered the kitchen, his team as quick as he ever needed.

The knock on the door sounded as you were walking back to the couch, popcorn forgotten you quickly set it to the side and grabbed the big bowl of candy. "Trick or treaters, Buck!"

"Trick or treat!" A chorus of decidedly adult voices sprang from the front door when you opened it. It was most of Bucky and yours friends; Steve, Sam, Nat - all dressed up in the most cliche Halloween costumes.

"So, do I get candy?" Sam's Batman outfit definitely called for some candy.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"We couldn't let you not have a fun Halloween." Nat said as she pushed her way in, the boys following behind her.

You glanced at Bucky, sure that it was his diabolical plan. His serene smile met yours and in that moment you remembered every reason you loved the man.

"Happy spooky season, babe. Lets watch that movie."

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female character #bucky barnes fluff #my works

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circe69 · 1 year

Text

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥! - 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

❤︎ simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader ❤︎ wc: 2.4k ❤︎tw: mentions of gore, suggestive ❤︎ tags - snowy valentines, heavy making out, pining, drunk confessions, aggressive!simon, but sweet as well :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"You know today's Valentine's Day, right L.T?" Your words slurred together like pudding, and Ghost could smell the faint scent of whiskey, along with the remnants of some strawberry dessert, on your breath as he leaned down to hear you better.

He'd brought you up to the rooftop from the raging party downstairs, figuring it be easier to avoid any questions from Soap or Price about just why the two of you were standing so close. He looked up, stretching and rolling his neck from side to side, and was taken back by just how clear the sky was. It'd been months since he'd been able to make out any sort of constellation, and just about everyone had gotten used to the gunpowder-filled clouds and polluted air, but Ghost hadn't.

"What about it?" He said firmly, looking down at you and watching how you ever so slightly fisted the hem of his t-shirt in your hands, and every so often, your knuckles would graze the skin of his stomach, making his whole-body tense.

You smiled, your doe eyes and dilated pupils staring up at him with the most drunken affection that he'd seen in a while, "Do you have anyone?" You bit down on your chapstick-doused lips, enjoying the slight cherry flavor. Ghost watched you work; he could almost feel your tongue moving around on his just by watching your lick your lips.

He sighed, not annoyed, but a little anxious. He just didn't know how to act around you, he didn't know why you made him feel so different from everyone else. It'd been years since he had a friend, let alone a woman, an attractive one no doubt, clawing at him for more, practically begging for him to just pick her up and take her to a random closet to show her just how much he was willing to give. At this point, Ghost couldn't care less about the fact that you'd forget most of this in the morning. He loved the way you made him feel, even if there was a chance you didn't mean it.

"You're drunk, soldier." He gently pried your wandering hands off his body as you grimaced at the fact that he just called you soldier. You whined in response, hands instinctively shooting up to hug him around his neck, and Ghost allowed it, because he wanted it so badly. He wanted you so badly.

"Come on, just tell me already! You're no fun when you keep secrets." You were practically hanging off of him, your toes barely touching the ground, and even though he could've wrapped himself around you and lifted you up even higher, his hands stayed in fists planted at his sides. You leaned even closer to whisper,

"Do you have a valentine or not?"

A small smile stretched across Ghost's face, and for once, he was actually thankful for that thin piece of fabric covering it. Precious, he thought. You were the one thing that could unlock Simon's buried affection, and whether you knew it or not, you were the ticket to making his entire being feel better. He was bloodthirsty on the field, a man-killing machine known for his deceitful tactics and disgusting tricks for cracking a neck just right, but it disappeared in your presence. Not because he had to hide it, but because he would just much rather focus on you, the most perfect thing, right in front of him.

Ghost's hands hesitantly moved to the small of your back, but then slowly dropped them again before raising one to pinch the bridge of his nose as you let go of his neck, crossing your arms in annoyance at the fact that he just won't grab you.

"I know you're pouting because I'm not paying much attention to you, but I have to be gentle with you for now. You've had drinks, yeah? Maybe a few too many. Even if I wanted to, I can't touch you."

You looked up at him, the grimace resting on your face was a little more relaxed, "But" you started, "Do you want to?"

Ghost looked back at you, and his lungs felt like they'd burst into flames if you spoke one more sentence in that voice, the voice that's dripping with desire and demand, for him and only him. He whispered, "Of course I do. Of course, I want to touch you, I want to touch every part of you." His voice grew louder at the end of his words, making your eyes widen at the volume.

"Just because I'm being gentle right now, doesn't mean I always will. The things I want to have happen, the things I want to do to you, aren't sweet things. They aren't nice, they wouldn't be beautiful or sentimental. I wouldn't be careful. Do you understand?"

You craned your neck up at him, in a certain way that made your cheek bones shine perfectly from the dim light of the moon.

"I understand, Lieutenant," your voice was nothing more than a quiet sigh.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow's role call is an hour earlier," Ghost said as he started to walk back to the door to the stairs, "Be there."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You groaned in pain as an alarm rang through your room, off the walls and into your ears. Every part of you hurt, from your toes to your shoulders. I couldn't have done that much, right? You thought, slowly slipping out of your covers and top quilt before walking to the bathroom.

6 AM, and for what? Breakfast and a flag? Couldn't they wait an hour? I sure could. Your hair wasn't as dirty as you'd thought it be, thankfully, and it was easy to manage into a tight bun before tugging on boots and a warm winter coat and heading to the main hall. As you walked, crunching on a small layer of snow with every step, you tried to think back to last night. What even happened? You were kicking yourself, because you knew this would be the case. It happens every time. You're just more of a lightweight than you'd like to admit, and you remember it every morning after you drink.

You could remember the rooftop, being escorted up there by none other than Ghost, which wasn't out of the ordinary, but there were some parts of your conversation that just didn't make sense. It was all a blur but, there was something about being gentle? And Ghost mentioning that, sure he's being gentle now, but if you let him, he'd be the farthest thing from gentle with you.

But there was no way that happened. Fever dreams, drunk dreams, they're all the same. They're all vivid, and scarily accurate, but fake, nonetheless.

Once you arrived at the hall, a wooden door creaked open upon your entrance, along with the sound of your boots hitting the floor in attempt to shake the ice off. The room was packed to the brim with people, rescue dogs that didn't behave, and squeaking chairs moving round for roll call. Hot coffee was being poured and whistling kettles being turned off for tea were some of your favorite smells in the world. The dim fluorescent lighting woke you up fully, and if it were any brighter, it may have set you over the edge. No matter how hungover you were, snowy mornings were like a restart.

You made your way down the precise middle aisle, eyeing an open chair by Ghost and speedwalking to grab it before anyone else.

Once you sat down, you started shedding your large coat and draped it behind you. Ghost finally noticed and took a double take once he saw just who was sitting next to him.

Somehow, by some crazy unearthly miracle, even after a terrible hangover, you were still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He was almost frustrated at this point; you looked like you'd never drank a day in your life. Your hair was perfectly pinned, clothes beautifully ironed, which allowed for every curve to be hugged like a glove and shown off to every man in the room.

Ghost was borderline salivating. You smelled like you always did, lavender; and your morning voice as you said hello to him was just raspy enough to make him crazy, almost like crackling firewood. Even in the snowy, freezing weather, just by you being there, he felt perfectly warm.

"Morning," he said back, adjusting his pants that had somehow shrunk a few inches since you took your place by him.

The cup of coffee in his hand looked minuscule compared to the one in yours, which let your mind wander to other places, thinking about things that you shouldn't be. Like how small your body would feel enclosed in arms, and how those very same hands that were inches away from yours could destroy you within seconds.

Before you knew it, one of Ghost's arms raised and placed itself on the back of your chair, making you dizzy just at the contact. His skin wasn't even on yours, but you could feel the weight of his heavy forearm on the chair, and the way it gently ruffled the sleeves on your shirt. His breath was closer, practically pouring down the side of your neck, which made you automatically lean in closer to him. You could feel your heartbeat and was sure he could see it popping out of your chest every second.

"Hey," he whispered in your ear, making your eyes flutter at the deep tone speaking from a mouth inches away from you.

"If I left, would you follow me out?"

You looked at him, eyes wandering all over his face until resting in deep eye contact. You could tell all he needed was one word, one nod, and he'd stand up.

"Yes," you whispered. Breathed, more like.

Ghost stood, his height growing like a giant tree, from his seat and stomped out of the large dining room, and into a small hallway towards the back. You discreetly watched every move, every step he took, every nod he gave to the unsuspecting soldiers, and the exact turn he took to start his descent in the hallway.

You sat for a minute before moving. I could just stay, avoid any unnecessary confrontation, and tell him he misheard me, you thought. Your legs fidgeted for a few more seconds, trying to decide, but in reality, your answer from the start was genuine.

You shot up, faster than you intended, and started walking in the same path that Ghost did. Nodding to the soldiers, shooting smiles and quietly opening a door that led you into the same dark hallway that he entered.

There were a few small windows lining the hall, and the snow falling made it seem brighter than it was. You walked a few paces slowly down the walkway, looking in empty rooms and peeping your head in open doors, wondering where he could've gone.

All the sudden, when you were looking towards the opposite direction, a strong pair of gloved hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled your body into a room before slamming the door with his foot and pinning you to the back of it.

Ghost's face was inches away from yours, "Mm, finally," he groaned, his hands desperately running over and under pieces of your clothing. He tugged at hemlines, the belt loops of your pants, anything he could grab to signal he wanted more, and he hadn't even started yet.

"Finally?" You teased, trying not to whimper at the feeling of his hands squeezing the meat of your thigh, "You act like you've been waiting for this or something." Your words got breathier with every second, and so did his. All he did was hum in agreement, words weren't ever truly necessary for him, especially when he'd rather communicate in touch.

He quickly lifted up his mask just enough so his lips were available to you, and you took the opportunity to utilize them as fast as you could. Once you saw them, plump and slightly wet lips, your eyes drowned in the sight of them. Your arms shot up to his neck, and you pulled him down to your level so you could kiss him properly.

It wasn't sweet like a first kiss, or something that you'd want to take a picture of and frame it, it was like a secret. His mouth opening against yours, the air between you mixing like it was never meant to separate, the two of you were hungry, hungry for each other and only each other. The pads of his fingers rubbed your collarbone, making you shiver underneath his calloused touch, and he loved it. His tongue gently massaged yours, sliding his lips back and forth and your teeth gently bit down on his lip slowly before the two of you broke the kiss and slowly opened your eyes again.

Ghost moaned against his closed mouth, shutting his eyes before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His long arms wrapped around you as if you were a present from Christmas, something that he'd always wanted but never believed he'd get. He almost needed a breather from the aftermath of it all. He couldn't stop, and he knew he'd never stop for as long as you were in arms reach.

"Do you remember last night?" He said from his spot in your neck, to which you started to nod. "Too much to not be slightly embarrassed forever."

You could feel his chest vibrate against yours from the huff of air he let out, and after he lifted his head to meet yours again, straightening his posture to tower over you, "Ask it again." He demanded as his hand planted itself behind your head on the door.

The smile on your lips was enough to make his knees buckle, all it did was remind him that every part about you was made beautifully, was made to its most perfect potential.

You sighed before rolling your eyes slightly and dropping your head in your hands for a minute out of embarrassment, "Do you have a valentine, Lieutenant?"

Ghost allowed himself to just bask in the silence, to soak in what you just said like a warm bath. How wonderful, that he was able to hear you say that same question twice?

"Yes, I do," he started, before taking your hand in his and carefully kissing the center of your palms, "And I think I'm set for life."

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #modern warfare #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #ghost x y/n #simon riley x y/n #ghost imagine #simon riley #circe69scribbles

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ckret2 · 5 months

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On chapter 30 of The Writer Uses Misleading Graphics To Trick You Into Looking At This Fic About Human Bill Being The Shack's Prisoner: Summerween part 2! Bill wheedles Mabel into helping him make a costume. Mabel wheedles Bill into spilling some of his preciously-guarded secret backstory. Ford is kind of in awe.

Also there's like 4.5 drawings in this chapter. They're all very silly drawings.

####

Bill wouldn't tell Mabel what his costume was—"I want to see who can guess it"—but all it needed was a brown bedsheet, a long red wig, cardboard (to be drawn upon), and flip-flop sandals.

The bedsheet was the easiest to acquire. Dipper's barely-worn brown sandals were just slightly too big for Bill but Mabel helped tie them on with yarn. the shack's cardboard supplies were still depleted from making Bill's triangle mask, but they could make do with paper and popsicle sticks. Mabel didn't have a red wig but she did have a blonde wig and red markers. Since Bill was, by his own reporting, terrible at drawing, Mabel offered to do the fancy artwork if Bill did the tedious task of recoloring the wig. He claimed he'd feel like a mortician putting makeup on a car wreck victim, but nevertheless accepted the deal, and they settled in around the living room table to get to work.

"So just a bunch of houses, right?" Mabel asked, starting on the first drawing.

"Ancient Greek-looking houses," Bill said. "So, marble and columns. Don't think too hard about the details—this is a 21st century American costume holiday, not a historical reenactment. You can slap columns on anything and call it 'Greek' and every human in town will buy it."

"Do ancient Greek houses have chimneys?"

"No," Bill said. "But adding one would be funny."

Mabel considered that, weighed up the value of historical accuracy against entertainment value, and decided giving one house a chimney would be funny. She gave the whole house a thick black outline in marker, and pulled out crayons in black, white, and whale blue to quickly add some light shading to the marble.

Mabel didn't think she'd ever seen Bill focus so hard or so quietly on anything the way he did on coloring that old wig red. He was giving it more attention than he did his own hair: while his golden locks were a tangled, uncombed, soggy mass shoved dismissively over his shoulders, he was dying the cheap wig (and his fingertips) strand by plastic strand with the bright-eyed morbid fascination of a third grader studying a pack of ants as they disassembled a bird's corpse.

This was the longest she'd been around Bill without conversation—usually, you couldn't even walk into a room without him immediately chattering at you like the motion-activated animatronics at the Summerween store. It was hard to think around him. Bill didn't give you room to think.

What did Mabel think about Bill?

He was right, she was still mad about the mall. No—mad wasn't the right word—mad was his word—she was scared. She'd never really stopped being scared of him, if she was honest with herself. But everything he'd done that day, from tricking her into trapping herself to reminding her of almost dying, had just reinforced why she should fear him.

But. She thought he felt bad about it. And she didn't think she'd ever seen him feel bad about anything before.

Maybe that meant her experiment was working. Maybe he was changing. Yeah, he was still scary—but he was Bill Cipher, he had a lot of scariness to work through. He was moving in the right direction, and she wanted to encourage that.

He hadn't apologized for the mall; but, since he'd tried to make up for it at the time, and that was a sort of apologetic action, Mabel decided she could tentatively forgive him for that day—provided he continued to improve. Put him on forgiveness probation. And that meant they were on friendly speaking terms again.

Which was good, because the quiet was starting to get uncomfortable. She surveyed her art for something they could talk about.

After a couple of as-historically-accurate-as-she-could-imagine houses, Mabel had started varying up the designs by redesigning houses she could remember off the top of her head with columns and white marble. She'd made a stately marble Mystery Shack, and a columned-covered doppelgänger of the house with the terraced yard across the street at home, and then she'd decided to make a Greek-ish version of her own home. "Hey Bill. Have you ever seen my house?"

"In person? No. But it came up from time to time in you kids' dreams, so whether I've seen it depends on how accurate you think your dreams are," he said. "It has less plants and more windows in your brother's dreams than in yours."

Mildly disturbing answer, but not disturbing in the direction she'd expected. "What! You mean you haven't haunted our neighborhood or anything? I don't believe it."

"Do you think I spend all my time stalking random humans? Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, seeing it in dreams isn't good enough!" Mabel pulled over a blank paper. It was hours until trick-or-treaters showed up, they had a little time to waste. "I'll draw it!"

"Wow, really?" Bill looked up from his wig. "You're not worried about letting the big bad triangle see your house?"

"Come on! You already know where I live, right?"

Bill immediately rattled off, "1337 Fairview Drive, Piedmont, California, on the northeast side of the street where it's less hilly."

"Exactly—you creep. So who cares if you know what it looks like, too?"

A square, sky blue house with two stories and a triangular roof; a big living room window on the left, a covered door on the right, three windows on the second floor, and a chimney. Mabel had drawn her home plenty of times—but doing it for a friend (?) was different from doing it for a teacher or a librarian, and she put extra effort into the rose bushes under the living room window. She added her and Dipper's smiling faces in the upstairs windows and Waddles's face downstairs in the living room.

"Waddles sleeps in the kitchen, but he basically owns half the yard to wallow in. This is my room, and here's Dipper's—I get three windows, but Dipper has the biggest window and a bigger room, so it's fair, no matter what he says—"

"Oh, you two have separate rooms now?" Bill was leaning halfway around the table and craning his neck to see the image right side up.

"Uh, yeah? Since we were ten?"

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't know how you'd expect me to know that. You both still dream about sharing a room."

Mabel paused and tried to remember how often she dreamed about Dipper in his new room. Sometimes she woke and was still disoriented to find her bed in the middle of the room instead of against one wall with Dipper's on the other side. "Huh."

She added a few more details—the front steps, the gate, the shingles. (Bill watched nervously as she pulled out the gray crayon to color the driveway—but she didn't notice how it had been tampered with.) She talked about her home, and in turn Bill told her weird things, like that Dipper often dreamed of monsters coming out of the fridge. When she finished, she autographed her name with a star on the "i" in Pines, offered it over grandly, and said, "Here, you can keep this!"

Bill accepted it without the customary effusive gratitude with which one ought to accept a generously-gifted original artwork from a 13-year-old prodigy. "What am I gonna do with it?"

"That's your problem!"

"Fair enough!" He checked his leggings for pockets and, when he didn't find any, set the page on the table by his elbow.

Offering accepted. As Bill resumed coloring his wig, Mabel picked up another piece of paper and got to work on the next columned house. "What does your house look like?"

Bill stopped dead, looked straight at her, and said, "My what?"

What was weird about the question? "Your house! Or whatever you lived in before you came here. You came from somewhere before you tried to invade Earth, right? You didn't just pop out of somebody's dream."

Bill laughed. "Yeah I did!"

"Bill."

"4500 years ago the construction workers of Egypt had a shared nightmare about the immense tombs they'd spent the last century building—"

"Biiiill."

"—and when they awoke they found the combined psychic energy of their terror had spawned a sleep paralysis demon more powerful than Ra! So then I ate their souls—"

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being so serious right now."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine! I get it. You're embarrassed." She shook her head and returned to coloring.

She felt the combined spiritual energy of hundreds of imaginary Egyptian construction workers beating down on her face from Bill's eye. Like a laser. "'Embarrassed'?"

"Because you don't have a house," Mabel said. "I think it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed! I don't think you're a loser or anything. It's just kind of sad—"

Bill snatched up a blank piece of paper. "You want a house? Fine! I'll show you a house." He grabbed up an orange crayon, muttering, "It'll put your stupid overpriced shed in California to shame— Where's the ruler—?" Mabel tried not to grin.

For several minutes, he was perfectly silent. Mabel glanced over to see him coloring with three crayons at once, only for him to shove a hand in her face and snap, "No peeking."

Mabel got through two more drawings before Bill slapped down his paper over Mabel's. "There! How about that?!"

She looked at the drawing, which Bill had helpfully labeled "Party Central!" in red crayon. A great stone pyramid so dark brown it was nearly black, with bricks outlined in brilliant gold and molten orange and fiery red, and a sharp multicolored X hovering above it—

Mabel gave Bill a flat look. "This isn't your house, this is your Torture Temple."

"The what? Hey, is that really what people are calling it?! It's not the Torture Temple, it's the Fearamid!"

Despite herself, Mabel burst out laughing. "You named it the 'Fearamid'?!"

"It's a pyramid and humans fear it! It's genius. Portmanteaus make great names."

"What's a portmanteau."

"It's a word made from the unholy Frankensteinian fusion of two other words. Like getting 'electrocute' from 'electricity' and 'execute'!"

"Or 'romcom'?"

"Yeah, or that."

Mabel considered the drawing. "If you want to scare less people, you could call this your Bill-ding."

"HA! Oh, I'm saving that."

"Anyway, this isn't where you live," Mabel said. "You were there for like a week tops!"

"Yeah, before your great-uncle killed me. I'd still be living there if it weren't for you jerks." He stuck out his tongue.

"Come on, Bill. I showed you my house. Draw where you grew up or something!"

"What's wrong with the Fearamid?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Why don't you want me to see your real house?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. "Eh, you know what? Why not. If you're gonna be so ridiculous about such a silly thing." He pulled over another piece of paper. "But if I don't have enough time to finish coloring this wig, you have to help me."

"Fiiine." She returned to her own drawings as Bill got back to work.

After a long silence—longer than he'd taken to draw and color the Fearamid—he said, "Okay, done. Here." And he pushed over the paper with one dismissive finger.

She eagerly accepted the drawing—and frowned. There was nothing on the page except for a straight flat black line, interrupted by three line segments of bright blue and a cluster of red and green dashes. "What is this?"

"Where I grew up," Bill said, innocently, already back to coloring the wig. Mabel could see his mischievous smirk. "As seen from the front. Just like your drawing of your house. So we're even now."

Mabel's brows furrowed as she stared at the page in confusion. "What...?"

"You do know I'm from the second dimension, right? A universe that's flat like a piece of paper. I figured Sixer would've told you all about it by now." Bill picked up the drawing and held it between his and Mabel's faces, so that, viewed from the edge, all Mabel could see of the paper was a thin flat line. "What do you think the second dimension looks like to somebody in the second dimension?"

Mabel took the paper back, looked at the underwhelming flat line representing the front of Bill's house, and said, "I hate you."

"We had the prettiest roses in the park," Bill said, pointing at the red dashes. "Crayon really doesn't do them justice."

"Shut uppp."

Bill laughed at her; but then, to her surprise, he said, "Okay, all right, I guess a big fancy 3D creature like you can't understand the nuances of two-dimensional sight. So, here." He flipped over the page. "Top down view."

The back of the page had what looked like a floorplan. A narrow room on the left, a large L-shaped room, a tiny room nestled into the L's top right corner, and a medium room on the right. Little shapes filled the rooms—furniture of some kind?—but she didn't see anything immediately recognizable like a top-down bed or table and chairs. Green and red spirals dangled off the bottom of the floorplan.

"I'm no Edward Bishop Bishop, but it gets the idea across," Bill said.

She studied all the strange little figures in fascination, looking for anything familiar. She pointed at a few shallow bowls filled with blue sticking out of the wall between the L-shaped room and the tiny room. "Are these sinks?"

"Hey, you're pretty sharp. Sinks and the tub."

"So the little room's the bathroom."

"Right again." Bill pointed out the rooms on the floor plan. "Master bed's on the right, kitchen and living room in the middle—and you found the bathroom—and second bed's on the left. That was my room! The one with a million books," he pointed at a wall with countless tiny multicolored lines coming off of it. "I was a big reader as a kid. I've always been an intellectual."

"Who was in the other bedroom?"

"I never really went in there, who cares." Bill made a dismissive gesture. "I think there were some desks and stuff in there too, but I didn't bother to draw them since I never used them." He picked up a yellow and a black crayon and added on to the drawing, dexterously turning the crayons in his hand to switch between colors without setting either one down. "I spent most of my time in my room." He'd drawn a little yellow triangle with an eye. He picked up a red crayon to point an arrow at the triangle and label it "Me!" "I didn't even have to leave the room to see the TV. The perks of psychic powers!"

Mabel wondered which of the weird shapes was the TV; but before she could come to a decision, she was distracted by the scale of Bill drawn in his room. Maybe he'd just drawn himself big, but he seemed cramped in that narrow space. And he'd hardly have room to turn around in the bathroom without his corner smacking something. "It looks pretty small. Is that normal on your home world?"

"Ah, I rarely spent time at home—it was just a place to sleep between speaking engagements," Bill said. "I was always on tour. Living the life of the rich and famous! Hotels, jet planes, and tour buses!"

Mabel shot him an irritated look. "You said this is where you grew up."

"This is where I grew up! I got an early start making my fortune. I was already famous by the time I was, uh..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Developmentally, I think I would've been about equivalent to your age. Maybe a bit younger."

How much of all this was true? It didn't feel like a lie—and she couldn't see how he'd benefit from lying about any of it, except maybe claiming to be famous. So it probably had to be true. He'd actually made her a drawing of his house. Even after he'd complained about being so bad at art. She beamed at him. "Thanks, Bill. Your weird alien house is neat! I like the squiggly spiral flowers! Are they actually roses?"

"They were the flower that everyone mentions in poetry and that you have to bring home when your wife is mad, so, same basic function as roses," Bill said. "Fun fact, they grow in spirals so that they're pretty on the outside, but—"

####

"—but have more surface area to absorb sunlight on the inside," Mabel said, pointing at the flowers. "Alien biology! And the orange things are couches and the colorful box in front of them is his TV, and Bill says he could watch TV through the wall but he never really liked TV, he preferred live performances—maybe we should take him to a musical! And the little sideways cushions on the walls are their beds because gravity goes to the left because their house faces east—I have no idea why!—so, I guess that's their 'floor'? But if that's the 'floor,' Bill didn't explain why all his books were on the 'ceiling' without them falling off, and..." Mabel trailed off, giving Ford a concerned look. "Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?"

He was gaping at the drawing. "Wh—? Yes. Sorry. I'm just..." He shook his head in amazement. "I never even got that slippery eel to admit he has a calendar system, and you got the blueprints to his childhood home?"

Dipper said, "Yeah, this is amazing. How did you get this out of him?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything special," Mabel said casually. "Just drew our house and then suggested he was too scared to let me see his."

Dipper grimaced. "You showed him our house?"

"Don't worry about it! He already knows where we live."

"Of course," Ford said, taking a quick note in his journal. "Exploiting his ego. He's very proud; undermine that pride and he'll feel compelled to defend his honor." Ford had started goading Bill into giving away more than he meant to the same way. He wished he'd started doing it far earlier; but he'd spent so many years foolishly assuming Bill's pride was objective and justified that he sometimes forgot what an egomaniac Bill really was.

As Mabel had spoken, Ford had filled several pages with bullet-pointed half thoughts: dodges questions about the master bed—his parents' room?; no bed or bedroom for a sibling, he seems like an only child; "speaking engagements" is probably a euphemism, what was he doing to become a child celebrity; were his books his only childhood possessions or just the only thing he valued enough to draw; did he gain his "psychic powers" while amassing the power he needed to "liberate"/destroy his dimension? "Can I borrow this drawing to make a photocopy?"

"Sure! Don't forget the line on the back," Mabel said. "And you can copy the Fearamid, too! Did you know he named it the 'Fearamid'?"

"Oh yeah, I heard him call it that," Dipper said. "I think I recorded it in Journal 3?"

"I should've read that before we threw out all of Grunkle Ford's Bill stuff," Mabel sighed. She slid over the Fearamid drawing to Ford. "Bwop! He drew it tilting all weird to the left? He wasn't kidding when he said he's bad at drawing."

Ford studied the drawing and frowned. He lay his pen on the drawing to use like a makeshift ruler. "It's not 'skewed'—he drew the front face as a perfect equilateral triangle, and then extended a side on the right to turn it into a pyramid. It's poor perspective—there's no point of view from which one side would look like a perfect equilateral triangle and you could see another side, but..." He trailed off again as he made a note to himself about what this might mean about Bill's ability to perceive the third dimension and his artistic sensibilities.

"So he draws like Picasso!" Mabel concluded. "Oh! Bill mentioned a name when he gave me his house, he said he wasn't like Edward Bishop Bishop—and I remembered it because it sounds funny. Bishop-Bishop. Maybe he's another artist Bill likes? Or somebody who makes blueprints?"

"I'm sure I've heard that name. I think he was a mathematician?" Ford frowned. "I can't recall, though." He wrote down another note: Edward Bishop Bishop – mathematician/artist? Something to look up later.

Dipper glanced back and forth between Ford and Mabel as they talked, feeling his stomach sink at how excited they were and how easily they got along. First the mysterious disappearing crystal shop in Portland, now Mabel made this huge discovery about the guy Ford had spent years trying to learn about... Dipper swallowed hard and tried to tell himself he shouldn't feel jealous after he'd gotten Ford to himself for basically the past year. "I can't believe you found out all this."

Mabel immediately looked at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Dipper winced. He'd realized a moment too late how he must have sounded. Quickly, he said, "I mean, it's great that you did! Finding out more information about him is great. But, like... investigating the paranormal is my thing. It's what I spent all last summer doing, and it's my dream job, and... and now, the biggest paranormal mystery in human history is in our house, and you're the one getting all the info out of him?"

"Well, yeah," Mabel said. "I'm our official Bill spy, remember? I'm the one who made friends with him."

"I know, I know." He shrugged jerkily. "I'm just... kind of disappointed that I'm not prying eons-old secrets out of an alien demon. You know?"

Ford had paused in his writing to listen to Dipper thoughtfully. "I understand. When you're exceptional at something, it can be... difficult to share the limelight," he said. "Not because you don't think anyone else deserves it. You just don't know if you'll ever get it back."

Dipper's face heated up—he didn't want Ford to think he was bad at sharing, of all things—but he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." Ford patted his shoulder understandingly.

"Aww," Mabel said. "Didn't you say that if we're running an experiment on being nice to Bill, you want to be in the control group?" She punched his arm. "Welcome to the control, bro!"

"Ow!" Dipper rubbed his arm and laughed weakly. "Yeah, okay, you're right. This is what I get."

Mabel said, "You should try talking to Bill! Maybe he'll tell you stuff too. He's really easy to talk to as long as you don't mind him sometimes saying creepy nightmare things."

"And as long as you're prepared for his mental tricks," Ford said.

"Yeah! Grunkle Ford's got a whole class for that," Mabel said. "He'll teach you about the BITE model! It's how cults sink their teeth into you!"

Dipper chuckled. "Sure. Maybe I will. We're gonna be at home handing out candy for a few hours, maybe I'll find an opportunity to interrogate him."

"You're not going trick-or-treating?" Ford asked.

"No," Mabel said, with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

Dipper elbowed her for her theatrics; they'd already agreed on what they'd do tonight. "We've got plans with friends. But we do get to wear matching costumes again."

"Creepy ghost children!"

"Ah," Ford said. "That explains your..." He gestured at them. They were wearing a suit and a dress, old-fashioned and gray, with tattered hems and dusty black dress shoes.

"Barty helped us put the outfits together," Dipper said.

"We still need to do our makeup," Mabel said. "What about you, Grunkle Ford? What are you doing for Summerween?"

"Ah." He glanced toward the ceiling ruefully, as though he could see The Enemy in the shack through the many layers of dirt above. Summerween had been one of the things he'd missed most about Gravity Falls; even during his years as a reclusive scientist in the woods, he'd usually taken off Summerween and Halloween to hand out candy to the children bold enough to visit his house.

But Bill's eagerness to participate had sucked the fun out of the day. The thought of celebrating Summerween in the same house as Bill felt too much like celebrating with him. "Nothing, I suppose. I was planning to stay down here." He gestured at his desk. "Continue my research."

"What are you working on right now?" Dipper asked.

Ford quickly said, "Nothing. Just—the same research," and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Remember what happened last summer when you tried to keep secrets about Bill out of embarrassment? Reluctantly, he said, "I've... split some research duties with Fiddleford. While I'm waiting to hear back from him, I'm looking into—some magical knowledge Bill revealed. To determine how much of it's true."

Dipper looked puzzled. "Revealed when?"

Mabel slammed her hands on Ford's desk. "Grunkle Ford, you can take a break from gathering intel on the enemy for one day! It's Summerween! Promise me you'll do something to celebrate before the day's over."

Ford let out a huff, but smiled. He wanted to do something. Surely he could come up with something that would let him avoid Bill? "All right, I promise. I won't invoke the Trickster's wrath tonight. Could you leave your costume makeup in the bathroom when you're finished? I'll find something to do with it."

"Perfect!" Mabel hugged him; then grabbed Dipper's hand. "C'mon, let's finish getting dressed. The trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!"

"Okay, okay." Dipper waved at Ford as Mabel dragged him to the elevator.

When they were gone, Ford turned back to the papers Mabel had given him. Bill's childhood home... Assuming he wasn't lying, at least. But an entire blueprint seemed like a complicated spur-of-the-moment fabrication even for him. If Bill was lying, it was a lie close to the truth.

It was strange to imagine Bill as a child with a bedroom full of books. Strange to imagine Bill as a child at all. What did a young triangle look like? He couldn't imagine anything different from how Bill always looked.

The floorplan did look small. Smaller even than the apartment over the pawn shop had been. Ford tried to remember what the homes he'd seen in Exwhylia had looked like...

He raised his head as something the kids had said registered. "Barty? Who's Barty?"

####

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill inspected her box of crayons.

The wrapper around the gray crayon was coming loose.

He took the glue stick they'd been using to reinforce the paper houses with popsicle sticks and carefully stuck the wrapper back on.

The house was too quiet without anyone around to talk to. He hated the quiet.

From the corner of the living room behind the table, when Bill leaned on the wall, shut his eyes, and listened closely, he could faintly hear the hidden elevator. He headed upstairs to stow the drawing of Mabel's house somewhere safe, and then went to the downstairs bathroom to finish dressing for Summerween.

####

(Y'all I worked hard on those fake crayon drawings. Anyway I know we're all collectively going insane today over the book news but if you took time out of your day to read this, I'd love to hear what y'all think!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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