#i think she knows that i just need someone to be there in quiet support hahah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 3 months

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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky.

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely.

Total quiet.

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?”

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?”

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?”

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…”

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?”

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.”

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.”

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh.

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated.

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry.

“Spencer?” you ask quietly.

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?”

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?”

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups.

“Where are you?”

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him.

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.”

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?”

“Where was I?”

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed.

“Still where?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.”

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk.

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.”

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.”

“…What?”

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.”

“I annoy people.”

“You don’t annoy me.”

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here.

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?”

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection.

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?”

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly.

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?”

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.”

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says.

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room.

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark.

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly.

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!”

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer.

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask.

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again.

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.”

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath.

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers.

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year.

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.”

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.”

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!”

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity.

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek.

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.”

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly.

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says.

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway.

“I don’t want to be alone forever.”

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates?

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess.

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol.

“She kind of looked like you.”

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.”

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.”

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Is that why you make all your jokes?”

“What jokes, babe?”

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.”

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.”

“Spencer, you remember everything.”

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.”

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him.

You’re happy to.

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse.

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully.

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally.

“Can I come home with you?” he asks.

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.”

— —

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.”

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.”

“So you want three?”

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.”

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?”

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him.

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory.

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that.

The avocado is making him feel sick.

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?”

“I think I'm gonna throw up.”

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes.

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button.

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.”

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.”

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.”

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now.

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said.

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say.

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.”

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask.

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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daddyricsdoll · 2 months

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Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri

Summary: It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest. But that wasn't what every other driver on the grid thought as they teased Oscar and you for being too innocent to know anything beyond vanilla sex. So when you guys didn't put up a fight, they figured they were right... until someone was lucky enough to see you and Oscar on the other end of the spectrum of "plain sex".

Warnings: not vanilla sex! fingering, oral (male receiving), bondage (hands tied together), spreader bar (if that even what it’s called), unprotected sex, rough because how else would you have it? Gagging and deep-throating Oscar’s huge dick 😩

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Oscar is the man who makes me wanna wake up in the morning and I love it!! I'm so obsessed with him it's making me go insane, but if I'm going insane it's fine because I'm going insane over him. Everything about him is beautiful and I wanna call him pretty and gorgeous and watch as he blushes. Then ride him and take control of him until he wants to teach me lesson and makes me pass out. (I’m just a girl) Based off of this request.

“Oscar, how would you say relationships outside of F1 have helped you grow in this sport as a driver and as a person. If they had an impact, and if not then why?” Oscar’s PR manager testing questions on him, posing as one of the many journalists trying to break Oscar’s wall that he’s been perfect at keeping up so far. He finds it amusing that they have so much interest in his life, only encouraging him to keep his words to a minimum. Well as long as you don’t come up– his cheeks immediately flush and he starts every sentence with “my girlfriend” before he looks at others and silently begs them to say something to shut him up.

“Well, everyone’s been supportive of my career. Which only makes me want to do my best, and better than that.” Keeping a straight face as he answers until he looks at you beside him then Lando with a proud grin on his face.

“Who’s everyone…? Your girlfriend?” Lando’s voice teases, like every schoolgirl talking about their friend's crush.

“I- yeah. She does a lot for me, helps me let off steam before and after races, she also-”

“Let off steam, huh? Is my Oscar making his girlfriend cum to let off steam?” Lando’s mouth wide open, making an ‘o’ shape. Both you and Oscar have mixed emotions– heat coursing through you remembering just this morning, but also shock from Lando’s unhinged question.

“You’d be surprised?” Oscar’s answer broad, but you knew. Letting Lando believe that Oscar lets you cum, when his favourite thing is edging you until tears roll down your face.

“Oscar, you probably just learnt what a clit is.” Lando having nothing better to do than tease him as his pale cheeks turn pink.

“Believe whatever makes you happy.” Oscar shutting down the conversation before he reveals too much, a little smile on his lips as he chuckles and moves his hand further up your thigh.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

It wasn’t just Lando who would have a say about you and Oscar’s sexual life, but any driver who happened to walk into the conversation at the perfect time.

“Oh yeah, Oscar you’re vanilla.” His fellow Australian, Daniel Ricciardo, says. Joining them on their walk to wherever they all had to be next.

“Well actually I think Oscar is a little more than vanilla. He’s vanilla but not vanilla.” Logan pops in too.

“No. Oscar is sooo vanilla. Like he’s too scared to choke his girlfriend because she’ll die and he’s never marked her so she knows she’s his.” Lando expresses his words with so much passion it makes Oscar roll his eyes but know exactly what Lando’s doing when their hotel rooms are beside each other and he’s invited a girl over.

“Wow. Calm down Lando, I think we learnt a little bit more from you than Oscar. You definitely need a girlfriend.” Daniel spoke the words everyone was thinking. Letting Oscar finally breathe and have all the attention over to Lando and his desires.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

“Fuck, I needed you.” Oscar groans out, thrusting himself ever deeper into your mouth. “Talking ‘bout how vanilla we are. But look at us.” The position you were in was unimaginable. You lay on your back, head on the edge of the sofa as Oscar rammed into your mouth with his fingers opening you wide and making you cum. But still, that wasn’t enough, your hands tied together and a spreading bar made sure your legs couldn’t be shut, always ready for Oscar, but with a blindfold over your eyes how would you know? Each of your moans were muffled by his cock and as one of his hands played with your clit the other toyed with your nipple.

Blood rushed to your head from this position and it filled in for the loss of his hand around your neck. Oscar pounded into you, his dick making you gag as you deepthroated him. An explosion of fireworks inside of you as he continued making you cum, a loud scream trying it’s best to flee your puffy lips, but Oscar couldn’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle to make out any coherent sounds because of his cock.

By now it was impossible to remember the amount of times he had made you release. From his mouth, fingers and dick, all you did know was that that number was only going to increase.

Each of his moves were so intense, Oscar had you spellbound. Unable to notice anything other than him. Well that was until he pounded himself as deep as he could into your mouth and then stopped. Everything went silent.

“Oh fuck! Oscar?!” Those words certainly didn’t come out of your mouth, and when you realised who did say that, oh you couldn’t have been more embarrassed, but somehow aroused. Seconds later the door finally shut, and you could only think about the uncensored view Lando had of the both of you.

“Fuck, I’ll deal with him later. But for now…you need to cum.” Pulling out of your swollen mouth and grabbing you off the couch to lay your shamelessly sinful body on the floor. Oscar doesn’t take his time, manhandling your legs so your feet are nearly inline with your head and then making your arms keep them back by going in front of the spreader bar.

Leaving your pussy so exposed and vulnerable that Oscar could do whatever he liked between those drenched folds. It was always a gamble with Oscar, sometimes he’d take his time to tease you, others he wouldn’t even give you time to catch breath. This was just as unpredictable as others, by now you would either be covered in your own tears from his edging or on the verge of passing out because you could feel him in your throat after coming in you repeatedly.

You felt less of an advantage, not even being able to lay eyes on him, so you listened to your own heavy breathing until he touched you again. Fingers going between your folds and spreading them apart with his index and ring finger. Lightly teasing you with his middle one. “Looks like you’ve had enough today huh? Or can you take one more?”

You nod your head as an answer, but it’s never enough as he asks you for words.

“Y-yes. I can take more.” You force out between breaths, in shock of how you even managed to say those words.

“Oh really? Well that’s great.” Oscar holds your pliant body up even further and then makes a swift move of ramming himself deep inside of you. Once again it pulled all of the oxygen from your lungs and the stretch from the position couldn’t be compared to the stretch from his cock. You couldn’t complain as he thrusted in again and hit your g-spot. Bringing more tears to your red eyes.

Grunts and groans slipping past his lips and making his actions such a godly sensation.

Oscar pounds himself into you with no mercy, finding pleasure in your moans and cries. You wish to hold him, dig your fingers into his shoulders and mark his back. Adorn his pale skin in love bites and make his lips swollen. Thinking about the way his body flexes with every thrust and how divine he would look from this position that you’ve been in many times but each new one has a different effect.

“What’d you think Lando’s telling them?” Oscar grips your thighs tighter–fingers certainly making bruises– keeping you in place as he vigorously rams inside of your overstimulated pussy. Never losing pattern or momentum.

“You think he’s telling them about how you took me so well? Your hands tied up? And how fucking good you looked between my legs.” Each of Oscar’s words having such an effect on you it could've been a trick of hypnotism. Your legs shaking and lips parted as you came. Oscar savoured the beautiful sounds leaving your mouth and he worked harder to fuck your high out and bring his in.

You clenched around him, forcing a moan to finally leave his lips and bless your ears. Oscar spasms and releases inside of you. Pushing himself so deep and his cum even deeper. He thrusts a few more times, easing both of you out and spreading his cum inside your walls. Oscar sits in you for a while before pulling out. “Fuck, that was so. Fucking. Good.” He starts untying you and helping you come undone from all of the restraints. Letting you lay flat on the floor as he did all the work.

“I would’ve been in you for hours if he didn’t come in. Can’t imagine what he said to them”

Oscar crawls up your body and plants a kiss on your lips.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Finally leaving Oscar’s room you both didn’t know what to expect. Well definitely not drivers surrounding a small table as Lando spoke to them all with hand actions and his face even worse.

“Y’know vanilla isn’t even that bad. But wow Piastri, I didn’t think that.” Daniel brings all the attention to you two. Every driver turned their head with a series of reactions on their faces.

“You are freaky Oscar.” Logan couldn’t hold back and somehow Fernando was there to agree with him.

“I have to tell Charles! Now I know what you two do.” Pierre smirks, making you blush and look at the ground.

“Well I guess I was wrong, but Oscar why didn’t you tell me you sneaky boy. Because then I had to see it.”

“It seemed like you wanted to join.”

“No I-”

“The way you’re speaking about Lando, it seemed like you wanted to join.” Daniel once again kind of saving Oscar from these unfortunate topics.

“What? Guys this is about Oscar and how freaky he is with his girlfriend!”

“If you want to join, just ask.” You finally speak, teasing Lando and watching the way his face changes.

“Oh you guys are so not vanilla!”

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ishipgenfics · 8 months

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Outsider POV on Somewhere Else Jonathan Sims must be just. so much.

Like imagine. You're part of a support group, and a new guy decides to join. You ask him his name and he says, "Jonathan," and then after a long pause, "Blackwood. Jonathan Blackwood. But call me Jon."

He doesn't like tape recorders. You only know this because the person who hosts the support group is into retro things, and tries to keep a couple around. She turned one on once when someone asked about it, and you noticed Jon clutching his nails into his hands so tight he's nearly breaking the skin. You lean over and whisper, "Do you want me to ask her to stop?" He says, "It's fine," and you nod, but you still try and change the subject whenever people bring up tape recorders from that point on.

He full-body flinches one day when someone says Hello, Jon. Nearly slams into a wall and everything. He tries to play it off, but after that people say Hi Jon, or Nice to see you, or things like that. Anything but Hello.

He says he used to work at a 'non-profit for studying the supernatural'. Someone asks where it was and he says London. You tell your wife about it, and two days later she emails you an article. Magnus Institute Burns Down In 1999. It was in Manchester. You tell her not to bring it up again.

The guy is snarky and blunt and downright rude at times, but when a woman comes in and tells them about being trapped in a empty warehouse for a week, he comforts her in a way none of the rest of them know how. "I believe you," he says, repeats it like a mantra, like a prayer. "I believe you." He says 'I'm sorry' less like he's sorry this happened to her, and more like he's taking the blame onto himself.

He talks about Martin, sometimes. His reason, he calls him. Normally you'd point out that while it's of course good to love your partner, you should have other reasons to live, but you stay quiet. This guy needs all the happiness he can get.

You leave a little late that day, and when you do you hear him on the phone talking to someone. "She'd been touched by the Lonely, Martin!" he says. "Which is bad, of course, but--" he seems to choke up, "Martin, I didn't feel any compulsion for a Statement. A-at all. I think it's really gone."

You just walk by.

You don't know what's going on with Jon, but it really isn't any of your business. You're an anxious queer lesbian and he's a traumatized ace guy, and you aren't going to make his life any harder than you have to.

Just. Jonathan Sims in a support group.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #fanfiction #fanfic #story #story snippet #story ideas #somewhere else #tma #might make another post about martin if the inspiration strikes me #also i've never actually been in a support group so #sorry

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sterredem · 8 days

Text

She’s real!?

Charles Leclerc x reader

Face claim:

Summary: Charles has said he has a girlfriend for a few years now. But the longer people hasn’t seen her the more they think they he made her up. Until they are proven wrong

Word count: -

Warning: fluff, rushed, maybe some spelling mistakes.

A/N: the ending was ruched cause I am working on something bigger. But This has been in my draft for weeks so I wanted to put it out before the big thing.

Please interact or give feedback🫶🫶 it helps a lot

Charles knew that he was lucky. He had an amazing girlfriend, his dream job, great friends, enough money so that he could last a lifetime, fans that supported him and a family that loved him.

But not everyone believed that he had all that. It may sound a bit weird because they where all facts. …right?

Well not every on of them. The first one the girlfriend one. That one wasn’t. He claimed he has one. And he always brings her up, for 3 years now. And you may think ‘well why don’t people believe him then?’ Well that can be answered quite easily.

No one has seen her yet. Well not no one because his family and his closes friends have. But they have never been seen public, and if they did see her they didn’t know it because they don’t know who she is and how she looks. They know there is someone, just not how she looks, what she does or what her name is.

And that is why people don’t believe him. Even some of his close friends and colleagues don’t. His team doesn’t even believe him.

And that’s all because they wanted to wait with going public. They wanted to wait because Y/n was really busy with her school work and Charles was travelling the world for formula 1. They did live together in his house in Monaco. But they didn’t see each other that often. But they still managed to keep it private.

And they do want to make it public. But in the first year that they where together they decided to keep it quiet, and when they where in their second year, she was really busy with school and being in her year before her exams she needed to study a lot. And then with him travelling the world and having a lot of trouble with Ferrari they still didn’t have the time. And now in their third year together, she was in her last year of school and studying a lot and him starting the season again. They still didnt find the time to go public.

And when they did find the time they where together and enjoying the privacy they had. So they decided to not hard launch yet and just torture the fans and public with corny soft launches.

And while they enjoyed the privacy they had. Charles did find it annoying that his friends and fans didn’t believe him. And he tried everything, but he will prove that she is real. Even if it will cost their privacy.

When Charles walken in the paddock alone… again, people stared looking and asking questions. A bit teasing of course.

And when it was media day there were a few questions about his ‘girlfriend’ but he successfully dodged them all. Not that he didn’t want to talk about her. But his media team said that it was better to not answer them, and he talked to Y/n about it and she said that it if came up he could talk about her. But just not randomly saying stuff.

So as promised he kept quite about their relationship. And when Fp1 and 2 rolled around it was still going great.

Well besides the teasing comments from his colleagues and even his team.

And when qualifying came around it was going really great. He started on 5th place, with was not the best but still good.

But then Race day came and he was as pretty excited. He started on a good place and Carlos was back again.

He ignored it for now and talked with his engineer for the last time before the race.

Before he got in his car he checked his phone one last time to see y/n has wished his good luck, he smiled a bit at that. But when he looked up again he saw that Carlos shot him a knowing look.

|———————————<3—————————————|

After Charles was done at Australia he got on a plane. When he was in the airport he saw his girlfriend. He ran up to her and hugged her. After not seeing her for a few days he had missed her.

“Hey amour, I missed you” he said in her hair while hugging her.

“Hey love, I missed you too. So much” she said looking up at him smiling. What they didn’t notice is Joris taking pictures (not that they would mind).

“Would you want to go home or walk around a bit?” She asked with a slight smile while looking in his eyes.

“I think it would be fun to walk around wouldn’t it?” He asked while putting a bit of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah it would. Come on we should get to the car.” She said while grabbing his hand. “Hey guys good too see you.” She said addressing the other people that where with her boyfriend (and a few of the little people that knew about them and believed it).

“Yeah yeah. Good too see you too y/n/n. Could you just keep the PDA down or something?” Joris said reading a bit.

“Oh sure, I will just keep down being with my boyfriend after no one believes we are together and not seeing each other for a few days. You know you are lucky, you get to be with his all the time.” She said jokingly.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Joris said while smiling at the couple. They really where something.

“Where do you guys want to go?” She asked looking at Charles again.

“We could just walk around the city and maybe catch the sunset, no?” Charles said while they all walked to the car.

“Yeah that would be fun.” She said opening the back door. “Who wants to drive!” She asked specifically to the other two boys not wanting Charles to drive with his parking skills.

“I could drive, Andrea so you want to go home? I can drop you off and give the lovebirds some time to catch up. ” Joris said.

“Oui, s'il vous plaît.” Andrea said while getting in the passenger seat. (Yes please.)

After dropping Andrea off at his home and walking around the city for a few hours they decided to go to a field to watch the sunset.

“It is so pretty.” Y/n said while looking at the sunset.

“Yeah it is.” He said looking at her. Admiring her.

A few hours later they decided to go hand and hang out there. Joris was with them for a bit longer after deciding to go home too.

Once it was just them they cuddled un in bed and talked for a bit longer.

“Hey Charlie I have a question.” Y/n said once the conversation dialed down a bit.

“What is that Belle?” He said looking- no more admiring her.

“Would you want to go public? And if when?” She asked playing with his hair.

“Of course I would want to go public. And whenever we are ready.” He said kissing his head.

“What if I just come to the paddock and surprise everyone. And we just randomly hard launch?” She asked looking at him.

Charles looked at her thing about it. “It would be fun wouldn’t it?” He asked smiling at her with a little smirk.

“Should we?” She asked him.

“We cou wait a few races, maybe chose a good one. We could stir up some thing. Maybe soft launch some?” He asked her now being a lot more serious then before when they just joked around and talked a bit.

“That would be fun.”

|———————————<3—————————————|

After Y/n postet that on her story a lot of people begin to notice. Especially because Joris was posted. So when people begin to put everything together they where shocked.

So with now people beleving Charles Y/n could finally be at an race. And that happened. And people loved it.

The drivers where shocked that she was real, so where the fans and the people that worked their.

But they where all happy for them

|———————————<3—————————————|

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koemiexists · 2 months

Text

Love and Devotion | Alastor x Fem Reader

summary: you descend from Heaven because you can't stand not being with your husband any longer. word count: 9.7k (apologies...) tags: vaginal sex, cream pie, semi-public sex, making love, making out, voice kink, oral sex, demon sex

Charlie’s voice pierced through the awkward silence, grinning at Alastor shakily. “Today’s exercise will include Alastor...!”

Silence rang throughout the room, and Charlie took a deep breath, smiling even wider, even though everyone knew just how forced it was.

“The Radio Demon....! Alastor. ” She nodded next to her, and jumped slightly when he used his shadow to appear next to her within a few seconds. “Okay! We will have Alastor, uh, play some music-”

“Jazz,” He interjected, his grin stretching further.

“Yes! Jazz! While we reminisce about our past life...! What could have been, what should have been, what we wish we never did. It’ll allow us to reflect, and help atone our sins to be redeemed!”

Alastor let out a quiet hum sound, and snapped his fingers, a radio appearing in his hands. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he placed his right hand over the radio, supporting the bottom of the electronic with his left. He felt his mind drift as the radio frequencies buzzed and bits of different channels were barely heard. Some sounds of a woman talking, then some blues, a bit of classical- and there was jazz. He lifted his right hand, grasping his cane as he set the radio down on the coffee table, looking at Charlie.

“Seems as if I am no longer needed. Such a shame, however I wouldn’t wish to intrude on your group bonding activities! It was a pleasure to help you all, though.” He smirked slightly, bowing just barely before he turned, walking to his room.

Now safely in his room, he felt his resolve crumble slowly, the pain weighing deeply. However, he couldn’t afford for this to happen, so he inhaled deeply, and gripped at the rubble.

He tugged , and the once slowly slipping mask of a smile was replaced with a bright grin, brighter than his normal ones, but not at all genuine. Alastor blinked, looked at his hands, annoyed he almost went against his own saying.

In a different afterlife, if he didn’t have strong emotions, he wouldn't still be plagued by your death. It’s been years. For Lucifer’s sake, it’s been an entire century plus some, and yet he can’t help but long for you.

Gathering his bearings, he adjusts his blazer and the grime off his monocle. He was absolutely impeccable, reveling quietly at his pristine appearance.

Alastor glanced at his dwellings, closed his eyes, and turned for the door, accepting only for these few hours that he can not think about his wife.

You were in your house when you died.

Patiently, you were waiting for your husband, Alastor to return from his radio show. You smiled, knowing just how well he did. He mentioned in passing that after this paycheck he’ll buy you a ring, and you’ll both go on a getaway trip for the week.

If only that happened.

You let out a scream when you heard the glass break, the sound echoing throughout the house. You had run to the phone, shaking as you spun the small wheel at the base of the phone, repeating the numbers of Alastor’s work phone in your head as you input it into the machine.

It rang.

And rang.

When Alastor’s voice sounded at the receiver, you started to speak, blabbing, almost fully incomprehensible.

“Someone-” You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks as your husband tried to comfort you, and understand exactly what you were saying. “Someone broke in-!”

A deafening bang sounded, and all you could hear was your own body hit the floor, and the gurgling sounds you made before you died.

You knew that Alastor heard the same.

When you came to, you realized you made it to Heaven. It was a bit of a shock to you, as you remembered the time you helped a lady steal some baby food. It was needed though! At least, you told yourself she needed it. Her baby looked awfully malnourished.

Shaking your head, you walked up to the gate, and smiled when the blond angel said your name.

That was a century or so ago, and you longed for your husband still. One of the angel’s, Adam, tried to get you to forget about your late husband and date him.

You never did though, because you still had hope. You had so much hope. If he wasn’t in Heaven, he had to be in Hell, and you had decided that you didn’t want to wait any longer, you wanted to find him.

Descending down was relatively easy, somehow. No one truly bat an eye, and in record time you were down in Hell.

You wrinkled your nose, and hid your wings to try and conceal how out of place you looked with all the sinners. You realized quickly though that despite you being an angel, no one dared to approach you with the intent to harm.

Taking a deep breath, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, walking with haste. You didn’t truly know where you were going, frantically looking anywhere for him. The surroundings became increasingly more violent and populated, and you were just so desperate to find your husband. A small thought popped in your mind, the what-if.... If he already died... from other demons....!

A sob wrecked your body at the mere thought, horrified you even thought that. You inhaled, wiping the tears, faith that your husband was strong, that he wouldn’t die so easily.

“Are you okay?” You almost broke your neck with how fast you turned, looking at a young demon. She wasn’t like the others in appearance, her canines were the only sharp parts of her teeth, and her hair was blonde. Her outfit was red, though, but her skin was almost milky white.

You felt embarrassed with the way you just gawked at her, and looked away. “I need help.” You quietly said, finally noticing the other woman next to the woman who talked to you.

The blonde demon tilted her head, before nodding. “We’ll help you! My name is Charlie, Charlie Morningstar?”

Your gaze shifted to the person next to her. “Vaggie.” She supplied simply, and you noted how she seemed annoyed. That’s when you actually took in that their outfits were much nicer than any of the demons you saw, and their hair was done.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, uh, did I interrupt your hang out?” You felt terrible, first your faith for your husband began to slip, and now you interrupted two friends, or lovers.

The tall demon, Charlie, just grinned at you. “Don’t worry about it! I offered to help you, didn’t I?” She turned to Vaggie, and leaned down. Words were exchanged in a whisper, and you looked away to give them some privacy.

Finally, Vaggie sighed and nodded at Charlie, who beamed.

“What do you need help with?” Vaggie asked, as the three of you began to walk in the opposite direction you came from.

You flushed, and looked down. “I was wondering... if you two know where Alastor is?”

Both of them stopped in their tracks, looking at you as you shifted foot to foot. “We do,” Charlie began slowly. “Is there any reason why...?”

You looked away. “Please? He’s important to me.”

The women looked at one another, chalking it up as if you're one of Alastor’s relatives. “Okay,” Vaggie agreed.

They made small talk with you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to truly care about what they were saying. You answered as if on auto-pilot.

Soon enough, Charlie and Vaggie stopped, motioning to the large building built on a hill. “Here,” Charlie started, smiling at you. “This is where me and Vaggie work! Alastor is currently the facility manager.”

You thank them quietly, walking inside. Now in a closed space, you released your wings, ruffling them as you felt them ache.

Glancing around, you noted the color was less red than it was outside. Hell was definitely filled with just variants of red.

“Thank you two, for bringing me here!” You turned, smiling at the pair. “I’m still sorry for ruining your hang-out-”

“Date.” Vaggie interjected, hand on her hip.

You smiled. “Date,” You corrected yourself. “I’ll make it up to you guys!”

Charlie laughed, waving her hand. “Don’t worry too much about it. It’s nice to help someone.”

“Dear?”

That voice caused you to stop where you were, eyes going wide with shock. You slowly turned, letting out a gut-wrenching sob as you flew straight at Alastor.

His grin on his face only grew wider, and fully genuine as he grasped you close, hand in your hair as you crumpled against him. “Oh, darling.” He breathed, trying to pull your head back to gaze at your face. Your grip was almost too strong, but he managed to pull you off slightly.

You sniffed, feeling gross as you knew just how snotty and disgusting you looked, nose red and leaky from crying. Your eyes must have been pretty puffy, because Alastor gave you a small smile, soft and apologetic.

“I love you.” You muttered, almost completely inaudible.

“Wow,” A voice sounded behind you, and as you twisted to try and see who was speaking, Alastor pulled you closer. “Didn’t know Freaky Face over there was capable of having someone care for him.”

Someone else snorted, and you heard a small thump accompanied with an undignified squeak. “Angel! Be nice.” Vaggie muttered.

Angel, you assumed, huffed.

Pulling away fully now, you rose, sniffling as you looked up at your husband. “I missed you.” You said this time, and Alastor only grinned.

Charlie looked between you two, grinning sheepishly. “Alright, well, Alastor, care to introduce who she is...?”

Alastor looked at Charlie, before bringing you closer. “Well, this is (Name),” He started, his hand resting against the small of your back. “And she is my wife.”

“Holy shit.” The voice who snorted spoke, and you saw how he dropped a bottle of what looked like alcohol.

You felt embarrassed, even though you were proud to be Alastor’s wife, it was awkward for his associates to know it.

Charlie walked over to you, and gently held her hand out. You glanced at Alastor, and at his subtle nod, you took her hand. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying for a bit?” She inquired, and you just flushed a bit.

“I think so. Alastor must want to catch up.”

She smiled, and gently led you down a hallway. You noticed the decor, with the walls being colored a deep desaturated red. Gold adorned the walls, complimenting the reds. The hall seemed to stretch for quite a bit, and there were doors that led into multiple different rooms.

Charlie began to explain how this was one of the areas where Alastor’s accommodation was. She led you further in, before opening a door to your right. The space was a bathroom, clearly unused but meticulously cleaned to perfection. The young demon drew up a bath, and you suddenly felt the tiredness seep through, along with the gross feeling that stuck to your skin.

“Here,” She said softly, once she deemed it was a good temperature. The tub itself was grand, and there were bubbles on the surface. A faintly sweet and earthy scent filled the slightly steamy quarters. “I’ll leave you be-”

You shook your head, stumbling a little. You didn’t want her to leave so soon, especially with how accommodating she was to your situation. “Don’t? Please.” You inhaled quietly, gathering yourself as you spoke, your voice slightly louder. “I... I would like you to stay, and talk with me.”

Charlie obviously was mulling it over, hesitant to stay. You knew that apparently the people of the hotel were afraid of Alastor, for reasons you weren’t truly aware of, but you resolved in your mind that if Alastor had a problem with Charlie being with you, you'd talk to him. “Alastor won’t mind,” You started softly. “I’ll make sure he isn’t upset, even though he is... a bit possessive.”

Drawing the curtain, you slid into the bath, sighing at the heavenly feeling of the water. You identified the sweet smell to be vanilla, and you glanced at the corner of the tub, where a small bottle of vanilla soap stood. Charlie then sat down on a small stool and began to talk, mostly rambling about the hotel.

Once she mentioned what she was trying to accomplish, you interjected, beginning to tell her about how Heaven worked, the rules you had followed, the slight oppressing feel. Yet you also mentioned how it was everything she thought it was. Your conversation with the princess of Hell flowed easily, and soon enough you were cracking jokes with her, and she was asking you for your opinion on a variety of exercises she had in mind.

Soon enough though, she left the bathroom in order to get your clothes that were in the washing machine. She placed your clean clothes down by the sink, and bid you farewell as you finished your shower. Drying off, you saw the small note on top of your garments that simply said; ‘Don’t dally. I will be in my room. - Alastor’.

You smiled, and fixed yourself in front of the body length mirror, gently drying your hair to avoid it being frizzy. Once you deemed yourself presentable, you exited the washroom, scanning the hallway.

Noticing the murky shadows coming from one of the doors, you slowly made your way over, about to knock on the smooth dyed wood before the door opened quickly.

Jumping back in shock, you almost yelped out when you got pulled into the room. You blinked and looked up, noticing your husband staring down at you, a broad smile on his face.

“Smile, dear.” He started, voice low and staticky as he pulled you closer.

“Because you’re never fully dressed without a smile...” You finished, giving him an awkward grin, before you burst into tears, not out of sadness but pure overwhelming relief.

Your husband embraced you, stroking your hair as you just slipped into his arms. “Missed you so much.” You spoke in a whisper, almost inaudible as Alastor wiped your tears from the corner of your eyes.

His smile was small and comforting, staring down at you with pure adoration in his eyes. “I can see that,” He said teasingly. “You must miss me very much, mon cher.”

Giving him a glare, you pulled away in faux anger at his teasing remark. “ Now darling... ” You stiffened at the slight hint of danger in his voice as he pulled you into his chest again. “You know I mean no harm to my little doe.” He crooned, and you let out a breath, the threatening feeling dissipating.

You were slightly jostled as he maneuvered the both of you to lay face to face on his comfortable bed. The sheets rustled underneath your body, and you noticed just how grand your husband’s dwellings were. The sheets were made out of silk, the same material that your pillow case was made of when you were alive.

You know you’re spiraling in your own thoughts, but you can’t help as you recall how your husband doted on you, his deep russet eyes peering at you from above his round glasses that sat on top of his nose. “(Name),” He would whisper, his voice charming, and you couldn’t help the love that burst through you when you stared at your lover. “Would you let me bed you?” Alastor would groan in a husky voice, and you would lose yourself in the throes of pleasure underneath his body, letting him mark you and claim you as his only.

“Darling,” His voice sounded again, and you blinked, shaking yourself from memory lane.

“Apologies, Al.” You murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I just...”

He hushed you quietly, stroking your cheek as he kissed your forehead. You smiled gently, and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re exhausted.” Alastor stated simply. “I’ll still be here when you wake up dear, so don't worry your pretty head.”

You shuffled, glancing over at the door, which was shut. “But...” You trailed off when Alastor shook his head slightly.

“Don’t worry about the hotel. I’ll show you around in the morning, for now you need to rest, you had a long day searching for me in an unfamiliar place, am I right?”

Flushing, you nodded, and laid back down, slowly drifting to sleep against Alastor.

The way to Hell was completely barred off. Frustrated, you had tried to break through the seal, but to no avail. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t shatter it.

You yelled out, pounding on the seal, wishing it would just open up. Why couldn’t you see your husband? What did you do to deserve the inability to travel to Hell to see your lover as you wish?

“You really think we wouldn’t catch on?” Adam snorted, kicking his empty drink away as he sauntered over to you. Your tears were running down your cheeks, and your wings fluttered, but no matter how hard you tried, they wouldn’t work.

Another angel came next to Adam, huffing. “Look at this demon fucker. You’re nothing but a whore, aren’t you?” She growled, and you let out a sob as she yanked you up by the hair, pressure in your scalp intensifying with each painful tug. “Look at me when I speak to you, bitch.”

“Chill Lute, fuck.” Adam rolled his eyes, and you hit the ground with a groan as Lute kicked your abdomen, making you double over, retching all over the floor.

Lute spat in your direction, glaring down at your shaken body as you heaved.

“Your little husband , he’s gone from you forever. You’ll never see that worthless sinner again. You have better things to do anyways, like dating me, you know.” Adam grinned. “Why would you need a sinner like him, who’s bound to die anyways by the extermination when you can have me? Adam! The first man!”

“(Name)!” You tried to fight off the hands that were grasping your arms, heaving as bile rose from your throat. “Shh, mon cher, you’re okay. It’s okay.” Alastor said soothingly, and you blinked tiredly as you stopped struggling against his hold.

Extermination? You couldn’t make sense of your nightmare, and you heard of Adam before, but not an angel named Lute. The pictures were muddled, like an oil painting, and you couldn’t understand what you had seen, what you heard in those few moments of sleep that grappled you.

You shuddered, the cold whipping against your smooth skin, and you pulled the blanket over you more, glancing at Alastor, who’s grin was tense now, looking down at you. “Nightmare.” You whispered, not providing any more context other than the word.

Alastor, thankfully, seemed to understand you weren’t up for talking anymore, especially not what occurred in the nightmare, instead he pulled you close, your chest pressed against his. He helped you hook your leg over his own, as you two were intertwined partially.

“I don’t believe I can sleep now.” You started again, voice quiet as Alastor blinked at you. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You were a bit annoyed that he would just kiss you after what had just happened, however you knew you didn’t elaborate on what you saw so he had no way of knowing the severity that the nightmare has done to you.

He kissed you deeper, dragging his right hand from your wrist to in between the both of you, his nimble fingers pressing delicately at your clothed heat. You couldn’t help but gasp, and he moved his mouth to swallow your sounds, pressing his tongue against yours. A whimper escaped you afterwards, and he pulled away to nip at your neck, rubbing small circles at your cunt. Your eyes were lidded, and you jerked in his hold, wishing that he would just tear your undergarments away and fuck you like you been wanting.

“Needy,” he huffed, and you felt your cheeks heat up as Alastor used his claws, ripping your lace panties straight to shreds. You shrieked at the sudden action, yet Alastor kept going, kissing you again. His hand is rubbing at your clit now, and you shuddered against him, wishing you had more contact instead of just his hand.

Smirking, Alastor repositioned the two of you, slotting his hips in between your legs. You whined at the feel of his own clothing against your bare cunt, however he just hushed you, grin wide as he rolled his hips.

You moaned loudly, instantly muffled by his mouth greedily on yours. He held your hips in an almost bruising grip, licking into your mouth as he began a steady pace of rolling his hips. You heaved, and he bit at your lip before trailing down again to suck a dark love bite right above your bust. The heat was coiling deep in your gut, swirling as it tightened, his ministrations causing you to let out soft moans.

Alastor pulled you closer, staring down at you as began to go faster. His erection was pressing against your clit just right, and you couldn’t help the loud sound that exited your mouth as your thighs shook. Your orgasm flowed over you in waves, the tension letting go all at once.

Once you were done, you slumped in the sheets. You felt Alastor pull away from you, kissing your cheek. He shuffled, and soon you felt him right behind you, pulling you close against him. Your eyes fluttered, sleep beginning to overtake you.

When you awoke again, it was due to a delicious smell wafting from downstairs, and not a horrible nightmare. You slept exceptionally well, and you stretched, allowing your bones to pop. You unfurled your wings, stretching them too, before tucking them back in, blinking around.

Alastor wasn’t in bed with you. You felt your chest tightened, but when you glanced at the grandfather clock in his room, you noticed it was nearing nine, and your husband had always been an early bird.

You sniffed, and almost began to salivate instantly at the smell again. You looked around for something to wear, especially considering your underwear were now measly strips of fabric... then you saw folded clothes with a note on top of it.

Grasping the note, you noticed that it was from Charlie. ‘ Hey (Name), Alastor told me to drop off some clothes for you for the morning. He said something elegant and modest.. Which is kinda hard to find in Hell, however Vaggie had some clothes she didn't use, and allowed you to wear! Alastor also said you needed undergarments, so I went out and brought you some! OO, Charlie Morningstar.’

You smiled brightly, and turned it over, letting out a small laugh at the next bit. ‘PS: OO, because if I put XX Alastor would kill me. Come downstairs for breakfast when you’re done!’

The material of the garments were nice; smooth and silky. You slid into the underwear, and fixed your brassiere, noting that it didn’t have a wire, just how you like it. You wonder if Alastor had told her. The clothes Vaggie gave you were pretty, and you easily put it on.

Once you fixed your hair, you put a bit of lipstick on, enough for your lips to have a bit of color before you exited your husband’s room, bounding down the stairs to the foyer.

You noticed Charlie before she saw you, and you began to descend the stairs quicker. In your haste, however, your foot missed a step going down, leading to you to quickly plummet. You let out a cry at the sudden descent to the bottom floor, one that would obviously be painful, when you felt two pairs of arms wrap around you.

“Woah there belle , why are you in such a hurry?” You glance up, eyes widening at the demon above you. He was absolutely towering, roughly 8 feet tall if you were asked. He retracted his second set of arms, and you struggled to get your bearings. The demon was stunning, he was nothing like your husband, but it was obvious he got many compliments and other demons after him.

You realized that you haven’t said anything in response, and Charlie had come jogging towards you to check on you. Stuttering, you assured the sinner that you were okay thanks to him catching you, and in response he introduced himself as Angel Dust.

Thankfully, instead of pressing you about your awkward silence, Angel let Charlie whisk you away, and she excitedly mentioned that Alastor was cooking in the kitchen. The way she spoke made you realize that he more than likely never did so, which was shocking. When you two were alive, he almost always cooked.

When you asked him why, he simply said that he loves to watch you eat what he cooks you. Previously, you thought it was just because he didn’t like how you cooked food...

Shaking your head, you focused on the present, strolling into the kitchen with Charlie still fervently talking.

“Alastor is cooking up some food that he said you’ll certainly enjoy- but I never heard of it! It seems really good though. I’m mostly accustomed to popularized foods.” She admitted, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

You nod, smiling. “It’s understandable. From what you told me, you were born in Hell?”

Charlie confirmed it with a nod, smiling. She was a bit bashful at her lack of knowledge about Earth, however you just told it was truly fine, and expected even considering she never lived a life up there.

When Charlie was inevitably distracted by her girlfriend, Vaggie, you walked over to Alastor, who was humming a tune that was just barely audible.

“Good morning darling.” He said without even turning, causing you to blink. You hesitated to approach further, considering how busy your husband looked. At the end of your inner turmoil though, you decided to waltz up right beside him, peering over his shoulder at the stove top. “Beignets.”

You looked at him. “Beignets?”

He gave you a toothy grin. “Is that not what I just said, dear? I made beignets. Don’t tell me all those years in Heaven caused you to forget your favorite dish...”

You shook your head quickly, nearly breaking your neck as you scanned the kitchen. “Where?” You questioned, nearly salivating at the mere thought of soft beignets that were undoubtedly covered with loads of powdered sugar. Did he drizzle honey on top as well? You swallowed audibly, and Alastor let out a laugh.

“You must be starving.” He remarked, and you couldn’t help the fact your stomach traitorously made a loud noise. “Wow, you really must be hungry! I could give you a dessert right in front of everyone...” He petered off, a growl in his throat as he stared at your exposed throat. “However, I think breakfast will do. Shouldn’t have sweets on an empty stomach.”

You can’t help yourself as you give your husband a faux glare, pouting a bit. You wish the other hotel members weren’t here, and you were able to just have him... But the smell of egg sardou was always appealing.

When you were seated at the long dining table, you expected breakfast to be a quiet affair. You were terribly wrong. Charlie gave you an apologetic glance as she tried to calm down Angel and Sir Pentious who managed to get into an argument. You tried to focus on plating your food, but Nifty kept fixing the platters of food, muttering about how it wasn’t clean enough.

Your husband was obviously miffed by this, and you noticed he took it almost as an insult to his cooking. In your peripheral, you saw how Vaggie began to comfort her girlfriend who was increasingly looking distressed at the fact breakfast was going awry.

You blinked, your resolve setting at that final scene. Without uttering a word, you stood up, slamming your serving spoon and fork down at the table. The commotion instantly quieted, and you began to move from your seat, fixing everyone’s posture and position with their silverware. They were absolutely wild in your mind, with some of them using the dessert spoon instead of the dinner spoon, or mixing up the salad fork with the serving fork. Your patience was running thin, and all you wanted was a peaceful breakfast.

“Elbows off the table.” You said, voice echoing against the walls as you strolled around the perimeter of the dining table. “Like that, yes.” You stopped in front of your seat, and glared at the others. “I expect this breakfast to be fine. Not perfect, but fine. I don’t want to be interrupted by your barbaric behavior. You’re in this hotel to be redeemed, and if not to be redeemed, you’re helping. Act like it.”

You sat down, and began serving yourself some of the egg sardou as chatter quietly picked up, obviously trying to heed what you said. Annoyance crept up on you, but you resolved to just focus on eating. Charlie had told you that she needed to speak to you after the meal, and you were pretty excited about what your new found friend had in mind.

The plates that littered the table were surely a sight. Despite the party being only a few people, Alastor still made sure to make a good amount of food. He graciously cooked up some of your favorite dishes when you two were alive, one of your favorites being egg sardou. You adored how he made it, and always cooked the eggs just enough. You never really liked your yolks that were super gooey, complaining to Alastor how it always made you nauseous. When he inquired, you said your brain always thought it wasn’t cooked if the yolk wasn’t partially cooked. Despite that, you told him you still loved the dish.

To remedy this issue, when he made it he poached the eggs for longer than necessary, and you absolutely loved it. You cut into the dish, mouth watering as the steam from the egg rose into the air, the hollandaise sauce rolling off the egg and onto your plate. You noticed how the creamed spinach part of the food wasn’t soaking, like most restaurants usually do. You hated the feel of soggy spinach, especially considering it’s supposed to be creamed spinach.

Taking a bite, you almost moaned, covering your mouth as you chewed your food delicately. You looked up, noticing how everyone was staring at you, minus Alastor who had risen from his seat to lay a napkin on your lap.

Swallowing your food, you flushed. “I apologize! I was truly hungry, and forgot to lay my napkin...”

Angel blinked, before speaking up. “That’s not why we’re staring at you, toots.”

You tilted your head in confusion, before the snake sinner, Sir Pentious spoke up.

“You look utterly graceful, (Name). It’ssss something we’re not truly used to.” He said, enunciating his s’s. You felt your cheeks heat up, and glance down.

“I must give you guys an apology,” You started quietly. “I was harsh with my wording and actions earlier. I was just purely frustrated by the fact breakfast couldn’t have been a peaceful affair... along with the horrendous usage of silverware. ” You utter the last parts, almost inaudible. However Charlie heard it, and giggled.

You glanced at her, embarrassment creeping up on you. “Don’t apologize.” She said, grinning widely. “I should be sorry, this is my hotel, and technically everyone here is under my discretion, and I couldn’t get them to behave properly.”

You shook your head, smiling too. “They aren’t children, Charlie.” You told her, turning back to your food. “I don’t expect you to carry that much responsibility. And I don’t mind helping out a bit either, with my knowledge on mannerisms and proper dining etiquette.”

The two of you smiled at one another, and you began to eat again, the conversation picking up speed now that everyone was content. You used the tongs in the middle to grab at two beignets, noting how Alastor’s eyes followed your movements. You felt flustered at your husband witnessing just how hungry you truly were, especially for his cooking. He always urged you to eat until you were comfortably sated back on Earth, yet you cannot help yourself from limiting your intake.

Beauty standards then were pressuring, and you didn’t want to be called a pig, especially when you were wed to a radio personality... one widely known throughout New Orleans...

Yet with his silent urging now, and the lack of judging looks from the others, you grabbed two more. The beignets were still hot from being in the oven, and when you gently tore into them, the pastry itself was light and fluffy. Powdered sugar dusted your fingers in an instant, and you tore a small piece off, popping it in your mouth. You scanned the table, going to wipe your hands with a napkin, before Alastor appeared.

Or rather, his shadow appeared, and the shadow grabbed the honey jar, using the specific honey dipper that was made out of smooth wood, polished perfectly to avoid any wood shavings in the sticky sweetness. You were pretty much in awe as the shadow drizzled the honey over the steaming beignets, and you felt your face flush when a hand gently swiped the powder sugar from your lip with a napkin.

In an instant, that moment was broken, and you were left feeling absolutely confused at the intimate interaction.

You didn’t let it show though, and began to eat in earnest, your stomach silently begging for food. If a noise was made, you feared you would have been so mortified that you would pass out. While you thought, you jolted at a small pressure against your clothed sex. You glared at Alastor, who gave you a wicked grin. The pressure against your cunt was obviously fingers, rubbing light circles against your clit through the fabric, yet you saw Alastor’s hands right there...

You flushed, and your mouth opened to let out a noise, before Alastor spoke up. “My my, Charlie! Weren’t you going to tell us about your delightful run in with a certain overlord the other day?” His grin was sharp, and you heaved a breath as Charlie perked up, beginning to talk to the entire table.

Shuddering, you inhaled sharply, which made Vaggie look over at you. You let out a shaky laugh, waving her off. She narrowed her eyes at you, then at Alastor, before turning to her pancakes.

You try to focus on something else, you truly did. You didn’t want to reach your peak in front of all your new found acquaintances and friends. Your breathing was unsteady, and you felt your thighs tremble as you inched towards your high.

“ Alastor! ” You hissed quietly, but he only smiled at your fidgeting self. The fingers slid past your panties, touching deep in your most intimate parts.

You couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft whimper. Charlie looked at you in confusion, before vocalizing her concern. “Are you okay (Name)?”

“Fine!” You said between gritted teeth, blinking away the tears of pleasure as you were almost driven to the edge. “I’m quite fine, Charlie, thank you.” You grasped the edge of the table, biting your lip to stop your noises.

Charlie turned away, gathering everyone else’s attention from your off behavior to her, as she bursted out in a song. You wished you were fully focused on her, but the constant touches caused you to instead focus on orgasming and get Alastor to stop.

You let out a series of small ah’s before you orgasmed against the fingers, walls squeezing and relaxing around them. You wiped your sweat from your brow, and inhaled deeply. Charlie had apparently finished her song, about something you weren’t able to tell. It did what you needed, attention off you.

Alastor just gave you a toothy smile, then began to keep eating.

The rest of breakfast went by in a daze for you, with you eating your fill. You felt amazing afterwards, and had walked to the adjourned wash area. There wasn’t any toilet or bidet around, instead just a sink that was mounted into the wall. A full length mirror was to the left of the sink, and above was another mirror, purely for touching up the face. You turned to the right, where most of the cleaning supplies and cabinets were taking space. It was tidy, and when you opened the cabinet, there were a few drugs disguised as over the counter medicine.

You feared you overstepped, and quickly washed your hands. There was a hand towel next to the cabinet, but upon closer inspection you realized it was for cleaning, notably due to the overwhelming smell of bleach and other chemicals on it.

Exiting the small space, you gently shook your hands, finding no other way to dry them without a towel. “Oh! (Name)!” You startle, and Charlie runs up to you, presenting a small hand towel so you can get the remaining moisture from your hands. “Are you busy at the moment?”

“No,” You said softly, facing her fully. “Why do you ask?”

Charlie pocketed the slightly damp hand towel. “I wanted to know if you wish to run some errands with me? I think it’ll be fun to do, and we can talk on the way.”

In truth, you had wanted to spend time with your husband, but with the way Charlie gazed at you, longing for a female friend like yourself... you caved, eventually.

“Alright,” You agreed readily. She smiled, and directed you up into the more comfortable washroom, explaining that you should wear something sweet smelling to mask.

You were confused, but grateful for the fact you were in a larger bathroom. You took a moment to preen your wings before you folded them up, and they disappeared within your back easily. The marble top was littered in feminine products, like a curling iron and some hair ties. Among those items was a beautiful perfume bottle, and a note with clear handwriting. ‘ For you.’

Taking the glass bottle in your hands, you examined it, almost gasping as you touched the engraving in the bottle. It clearly had ‘ No. 5 Chanel Paris’ on it, but you almost couldn’t believe it. When you and Alastor were alive, you had seen it in the shops after it debuted. You told him that one day, you were going to buy it, and he promised that he’ll buy it for you in the near future, after he saved enough money.

That day never came.

Blinking your tears away, you spritz the scent lightly, inhaling the citrusy smell. When you took another breath of the perfume, you noticed the more subtle notes, flowers.

After you fully freshened up, you met Charlie down at the foyer, where she explained that this errand was truly easy to do, just tedious.

When you inquired, Charlie opted to glance away, whistling a soft tune instead. You narrowed your eyes at her behavior, before shrugging it off, choosing to ask her later when you two were out of the hotel’s range. Alastor had seen you two off, with him pressing a feathery light kiss against the back of your hand, eyeing you carefully.

You blushed deeply at this action, and chose instead to look away from your husband, who still manages to fluster you through death.

Charlie whisked you away after that, and after idle chat, she seemed to get more serious. “You know the extent of what Alastor has done, right (Name)?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “No. He never told me. Why?”

She seemed to pause at this, her steps faltering, before she continued her slightly brisk pace. “Well,” Charlie started, fixing her bangs as she looked at you. “He’s killed people.”

“I’m aware.” You smile wryly. “He’s a serial killer... heard a few sinners talking about him.”

“Yeah, but he also...”

“What?”

Charlie seems to lose her confidence in her words, instead opting to remain silent for a few long seconds, until she spoke up, finishing her sentence. “He also eats people.”

That stopped you, this time. You stared at her, absolutely bewildered at her statement. “Pardon?”

“It’s true! I saw him eat demons before-”

“I don’t wish to know that!” You cried out, groaning lightly. You rub your head, and begin to walk again, with Charlie stepping in pace with you. “Gosh Charlie....”

She had the decency to look upset at your own expressions. “I’m sorry, I just wanted you to know-”

You smile placatingly at her, before groaning again. “Wow.”

“Do you still truly love him, though? Despite that?”

You pondered her words. Did you? And in that exact moment, before you thought any further, the answer came to you. You turned to her, and she looked at you with expecting eyes.

“I told him in my vows that nothing he has done, or will do, will ruin my love for him as long as he doesn't hurt me. And he never hurt me. Even if he ate people, and murdered, he never hurt me, and he loves me. So if he loves me truly and genuinely, then I love him truly and genuinely too. I love Alastor, Charlie.”

She smiled, and gathered you in her arms, hugging you tightly. “Sorry, I just needed to know.”

You laugh wetly. “You’re forgiven, Ms. Morningstar.”

Charlie giggled, scrunching her nose. “Ew, don’t call me that. Makes me feel all high and mighty.”

“Are you not?” You jest, and Charlie grins at your words.

She stops soon though, glancing at her watch. “Well, I have to actually run errands.”

You froze, staring at her. “Was we not about to do that on this trip?”

Charlie turns away, whistling again.

“Charlie!”

She laughs. “Sorry! Well, not really. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I do have to run errands now, but I'll take you back to the hotel so you can spend the day with Al!”

You sigh, and give her a loose gripped hug. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“Don’t mention it.” She started. “I’ll support you no matter what, (Name).”

After a couple minutes of walking in silence, Charlie began to speak again. “By the way, you should tell Alastor to not engage while the others are around.”

You were heavily confused, and stared at her. “What?”

Her cheeks darkened. “Be, uh, proper at the table...”

“I’m not following.” You stated simply as Charlie got more flustered, biting her lip a bit.

“I sang to keep the attention off you.” She said instead, and you instantly flushed, embarrassment coursing through your veins. You opened your mouth to hurl apologies, but she shook her head. “It’s okay, it seemed like it was mostly Alastor’s plan to engage you anyways.”

You groaned. “Terrible you witnessed it.”

She smirked. “Yeah I wasn’t too much of a fan to know that my employee and new friend were getting it out underneath the table.”

“Oh my goodness, don’t phrase it like that!” You playfully whacked her as she laughed. “This is so embarrassing.”

Charlie gently rubbed your back, smiling. “Not anymore embarrassing than my emo phase.”

“ You had an emo phase!? ” You nearly shrieked, and Charlie cackled at your reaction.

“I won’t show you a photo.”

You nearly whined. “Why not?” Jutting your lower lip out, you looked at her with wide eyes.

She looked away, before finally caving. “Ok, fine, maybe some time this week.”

When the two of you arrived at the hotel, Alastor was waiting by the entrance for you. You bid Charlie a farewell as she turned around to run actual errands. Alastor gives you his elbow and you hold onto it, smiling lightly at the gentleman's actions he always did for you.

Both of you slowly ascended the stairs from the foyer, your steps confident and direct. Alastor let you lead slightly, before he understood where you wanted to go. His dwellings.

He opened the door, and you helped yourself in, sitting down on his bed. Alastor closed the door after the two of you, choosing to dim the lights instead of turning them up fully. The glow it casted the entire space was minimal, but you could clearly see Alastor, so you took his hands, gazing at him.

“What have you done?”

Your question was simple, and you knew Alastor was anticipating it, because he gently squeezed your hands, before dropping them.

“I killed my father.” You had always wondered where Alastor’s father was. You were always told by Alastor himself that he decided to leave the family after welcoming you in. It didn’t make much sense, in your opinion, but it was Alastor’s father, not yours, so you took his words as the truth. In retrospect, you should have prodded more, with what Alastor was telling you now.

“That was the first time I killed; then there was that man you call your friend-” James? “-after that was your other suiter, who almost stole you away from me-” Luke. “-that nasty gal who dared to slap my wife-” Patsy! “-and then strangers, people you do not know.”

You were appalled at what he was revealing. Charlie had only briefed you, but you were truly unaware that your doting husband, your lover, was one of the most wanted serial killers at that time. The biggest one in New Orleans.

“I only ate two of them...” You were horrified. “The rest was buried, truly. Or disposed of in the worst way possible.”

He looked at you, an odd look in his eyes. “Do you regret being married to me?”

You pause for a moment, reflecting on yourself. You don’t hate him, and he never hurt you, and in some sick twisted way this was his expression of love for you. Killing the people who hurt you. He loved you so much that he had killed, just for you, and made sure that you were never an accomplice by sheltering any and all knowledge that it happened.

So you did not regret being married to him, but instead, you fell more in love with him, with the way he loved you fervently.

“I love you.” Was all you uttered, and Alastor pounced on you in that instant, kissing you passionately. You let out a stifled moan at the suddenness of his actions, but you felt overjoyed knowing how much he cared and adored you.

Alastor pulled you closer, nipping at your sensitive skin, his eyes shifting from your form to your lips as he kissed you again. “ I am... ” He began, voice husky as you let out a startled yelp, his claws gripping your hips. Your eyes widened in surprise, then you moaned out wantonly as he pulled your legs further up, resting on his shoulders. “ Utterly devoted to you, darling... ” Your breath hitched and he moved down from your face to your thighs, nipping right at the skin resting against his cheek. “ And I will shower you with affection... When our time on Earth is up... ”

You realized that he was saying his vows after your muddled mind began to process, and he was saying it in his language, in French.

Your breath caught as he licked a long stripe against your soak underwear, a whine bursting past your lips. “ I refuse to let Heaven nor Hell bring us apart, and know that I will do everything in my power to see you, if not for one last time, if our paths were meant to part.... ”

“Alastor!” You moaned, as he snapped his fingers, your underwear disappearing quickly. The air instantly made you shiver with your now exposed dripping sex in view of your husband. “Shit!”

“ Darling.... ” He growled, the static that was present in his voice dropping, allowing his barely noticeable southern drawl to appear. With the transatlantic accent dropped, you could almost moan at the fact he was truly himself, if not for this one moment with you two. ��I love you.”

You never heard him say that before, and you felt tears slowly roll down your cheeks as you sniffled, so emotionally overwhelmed with everything that has happened. You loved him so much, and in your marriage, you never heard him say it back at all, until now.

“I love you too,” You choked out, gasping as he shoved his tongue into your cunt, and you saw how he relished the way you wriggled and heaved from the pleasure that was coursing through your veins.

“You’ll never see Heaven again,” He whispered, and you thought that he hadn’t said that, you were purely starting to hear things until he spoke up again. “I will never let them have you, not when I got you back. My darling, my wife. The light of my life, I will keep you here with me forever.” He was rambling now, almost incoherent, especially with his face in your cunt, juices dripping onto his lower face.

You were no better, an absolute mess above him. Yet, when Alastor looked up, utter adoration flooded his face, and he gently nipped at the top of your mound, before angling his head, carefully nibbling your clit. You howled in ecstasy, letting out a heavy moan as your hips thrusted into his mouth, then tried to push back into the mattress to get away from the constant stimulation. However, Alastor held fast, licking and slurping the small bud, causing you to jerk and heave in his hold, your toes curling as you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the pleasure as it is.

“Good girl.” He growled, sucking the bud into his mouth, and you let out a hoarse noise, gripping his hair, and then you pulled, causing him to groan into your cunt.

He repositioned one of his hands that was holding your thighs, angling it at your cunt, before he thrusted two fingers inside. You flinched in pain, and noticing your hurt movements, he pulled the fingers out, instead thrusting his middle finger in. With a steady pace, he began to thrust the digit in and out, pulling his body up to kiss your neck as he did so. “Such a good little wife for me. You’re my perfect wife, right?” He muttered, looking at you as he did so.

You groaned, and nodded. “For you- I’ll be anything you want.” You begged, bucking your hips and biting the inside of your cheek.

A second finger appeared alongside the first one, and he coaxed you to take it, like the good wife you were. You flushed at his words, and clenched around both fingers. Alastor moved down again, stopping right at your abdomen, and moved his free hand to rest right above your skin. “Are you ready for the main course?” He questioned, and at your fervent nod, his ever present grin widened as far as it can go.

Fear coursed through your veins, along with pleasure as you saw him slowly morph, his body doubling in size and his eyes becoming glowing radio dials, staring straight at you. His antlers that were usually hidden by his hair, elongated and you were now in such a position where instead of gripping his hair, you could grip at the antlers.

“Al....” You whispered, but he hushed you opting to instead rip all your clothes off. The shreds of your clothing littered the bed, and you silently apologized to Vaggie in your head for the now ruined clothing.

Alastor’s pants were quickly unzipped, and soon enough his cock laid on your stomach. You instantly paled when you glanced down, as you took in just how sizable your lover was in this new form. “Alastor.”

He made a small noise, eyes staring at you. “It’s not going to fit Alastor- You’re going to break me!” You whispered, your eyes staying on his length. The tip was leaking right by your belly button, and you whimpered. He was going to break you on his dick.

“ It’ll fit. ” Was all he said, and you let out a gasp when he slowly began bullying the tip of his thick cock into your pussy. Whimpers and pleads filled the room, but when he stopped, giving you a look, you realized you really don’t want him to stop.

Alastor leaned in, tapping your sternum twice, and then looked at you. You blinked, before remembering that your safe word when you two were alive was necklace. You shook your head, and he continued, disregarding your pained sounds unless you said the word.

You never did, of course, because you truly wanted this, and if the pain became too much you would speak up.

“Alastor!” You gritted your teeth, and he panted above you, his cock fully inside you now. While you focused on relaxing and breathing, he put a clawed hand on top of your abdomen. You glanced at him, and let out a startled moan as he pressed against the slight bulging of your skin.

“ Look how deep I am inside you, darling. ” You whimpered, and he pulled out almost completely, inhaling the scent of you at the base of your neck, before growling. “ Heaven won’t take you away. You’re mine.”

You moaned, agreeing completely. You won’t go back to Heaven, not when you have your husband. “Alastor, fuck me.”

He smirked, and began thrusting into your tight wet heat. You were rocked with every thrust, staccato ah ’s leaving your mouth as his hips slapped against your ass.

You knew what you signed up for, truly. You were well aware that you probably wouldn’t be able to walk for a day or two, and bruises would line your thighs and ass. But you loved it, really, the fact that Alastor marked you up so much.

“Harder,” You sobbed, pleasure overwhelming you. You hardly noticed when Alastor’s hand was at your clit, working circles against the small bud to increase your pleasure.

Groaning, you grasped his wrist. “M’close, I’m close-” You whispered harshly, rolling your hips into his ministrations, and you were right there--!

He stopped his thrusting, and you let out a slew of obscenities, glaring up at him. Alastor only gave you a smaller smile, cheeky as his form slowly went back to normal one. You were especially confused when his cock hadn’t decreased in size at all.

“I got a bit rough with you there, apologies, my doe.”

You blinked, huffing. “Just continue fucking me, Alastor!”

He smiled. “No.” No!? He can’t just tell you no! You feared he was about to leave you high and dry, gripping his blazer as you opened your mouth.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” You growled. “I much rather make... love... with you.”

Freezing, you shifted a bit, letting out a small noise at the feel of him still inside you. “Do it, then.” You beamed, kissing his nose.

Alastor let out a small laugh at your change of demeanor, almost instantly, but leaned fully over you, repositioning his legs. He gently cradled your head with his left hand, and his right hand hiked your leg up.

He rolled his hips into you at a steady pace, kissing you passionately. You bit his lip, and his grip got rough as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

You were sloppily kissing him, panting and parting for a few seconds before slotting your mouths together again. His pace stayed slow and sensual, and soon enough you felt your orgasm come back, slowly but surely building up in intensity.

“Rub my-” He hushed you with another peck to the mouth, his hand from your thigh going between your legs to rub your clit again.

Your noises were soft and erotic, and Alastor couldn’t help but get harder, his own cheeks getting a soft tint of redness to them.

“My little doe... won’t you cum for your husband? Prove how much of a good girl you are?”

You loudly moaned, bucking your hips into his as the thrusts got faster. You orgasmed soon after, the waves of pleasure never stopping as he forced you into overstimulation, staring you down as you writhed in his grip.

“More?”

A loud mewl came from your mouth as you pulled him back down to kiss you again. “More, Alastor, don’t stop-”

He smirked at the idea of spilling cum all over your plush body underneath him, but with the way you were begging, he knew you would want it inside you. For him to breed you until you were completely full of his seed, and then some.

“Come here, darling.” Alastor began to kiss you fervently again, losing his rhythm as he jackhammered inside you. “ I’m going to breed you, and you’ll carry my child in your womb. You’ll have to walk around the hotel with everyone knowing that you’re mine. You’re the Radio Demon’s wife, and no one can have even a bit of you. ”

“Fuck! Alastor!” You reached your peak again, thighs trembling around his hips as he pulled you roughly down, thick ropes of cum spurted into your womb as you tried to catch your breath.

He languidly thrusted a few more times, fucking the cum inside you. You tiredly looked at him as he propped your hips up with a pillow. “Round two?”

“ Tomorrow. ” You huffed. You were exhausted at the moment. “Please...”

Alastor smiled, and just laid down next to you, cuddling you into his body. You didn’t expect him to do such a thing, considering everything you heard about your husband now, but he only kissed you and told you to rest.

“You dote on me a lot...” You murmured, trying to stay awake for a few more minutes.

Silence filled the room for a while, before he spoke up, right before you fell asleep. “I care about you, (Name). I’ll only show this to you and our child.”

You turned to him, kicking the pillow from under you so you can wiggle your leg between his. “Could I even get pregnant down here?”

Alastor smirked and rubbed your abdomen. “I hope so.”

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

“Stay here, in Hell. Please, (Name).” He spoke quietly.

You just squeezed his hand. “I plan to.”

Alastor leaned in, giving you a kiss on your forehead before you had drifted off to sleep.

if only i was good at formatting with tumblr. (it hates me)

#oneshot #fluff #reader insert #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel smut #smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel

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lovebugism · 9 months

Note

“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader

idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭

thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.

“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”

Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”

Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.

The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.

“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”

You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.

“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”

A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.

Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.

His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.”

You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”

The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice.

Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.

“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts.

It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag.

Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.

“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.

“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain.

“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”

Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”

Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden.

You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.

The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”

“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.

“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”

The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”

“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”

“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back.

While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.

You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout.

And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it.

And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.

That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.

Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”

“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”

You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.

“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.

He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”

There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”

You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.

“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”

“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.

Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”

“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?”

Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.

“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”

“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”

One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.

“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”

“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.

The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily.

“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been.

He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.

You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.

“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”

“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.

His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”

“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.

He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever.

You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.

“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”

“Shut up…” you murmur.

“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”

“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.

“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.

Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie munson x shy!reader #bug's summer fic fest!

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weird-and-unwell · 3 months

Text

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

#actually autistic #autistic #long post #autism

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months

Text

Hobie Brown, Emotional Preparation, and the Art of Great Dialogue

Nearly all of Hobie's dialogue is written with his goal - protecting and preparing Miles for Miguel's abuse - in mind, even if it may not be obvious at first watch.

Here's an unhinged breakdown where I over-analyze literally every one of Hobie’s lines and explain how every sentence was written to contribute directly to Miles’ radicalization.

Hollywood. Pay your writers. (:

___________________________________________________

Hobie has around 10 minutes screentime total, but for the sake of introductions and this analysis, let's start at the end of the battle, and the beginning of the quantum hole.

Starting with his first line in the scene:

"I don't follow orders. Neither does he."

All morals considered, Hobie doesn't seem like the type to speak for someone who can speak for themselves - he's a punk after all. But here, he speaks for Miles. This line serves to tell Miles 'I don't respect them, why should you?', but funnily enough, it can also be a point to Jess, as if to say 'Miles isn't interested.' - even if he is.

"Bit much, innit?"

While, Hobie and Mile's next interaction is their exchange in the elevator, the scene leads to Mile's introduction to the Society. Miles gawks at the lobby, obviously impressed. Gwen affirms this awe, telling him 'this is just the lobby.' However, Hobie feels the need to chime in. His next dialogue 'Bit much, innit?' is a subtle nudge to Miles that the society is not a place to be in awe off. It's a spectacle, one that's a bit overdone. Knowing Miles now sees Hobie as cool, Hobie makes it known - he sees the Society as uncool.

"Gwendy, How much have you told him? About his place in all this? Maybe not enough."

'So what happened about that small elite strike-team?' - 'Most of these are part time.' This is by far one of Hobie's more interesting lines, and I wrote about it here. But in short, this is Hobie's soft but direct confrontation of Gwen. After Gwen lies to Miles in front of him, Hobie immediately asks how much Gwen has revealed to him. And when she tries to play it off, he openly says 'Maybe that's not enough.' He's not angry with Gwen, but he is disappointed, which in turn motivates him to have his discussion with Miles.

"Super humane, and not creepy."

One of my favorites, because it's hard to catch and to the point. After talking about Hobie and Gwen's mission history, they're taken to Margo and the control room. As Miles marvels at Margo and the Go-Home-Machine, and Gwen says she voted against it. However, Hobie says blatantly: 'Holy shit, Miles isn't this inhumane and weird???', validating that the Society is willing to do inhumane, hurtful stuff to those it deems 'misplaced'.

Next comes Hobie's confrontation with Miles.

Because Hobie knows this is his last movements with Miles before he meets Miguel, and this is where if final push of emotional support kicks in, before he goes quiet in front of Miguel.

And because this conversation is so well layered, I think it's best to go line by line. ______________________________

H: "Bet this doesn't even do anything." M: "Maybe it did before you ripped it out of a wall!"

Hobie has now confirmed that he'll be making an exit soon. And he begins his finally sweep of parts he needs for his watch, stocking up his pockets. He's not stealing to steal. He knows he's leaving and this is his last chance to get what he needs before he's out the door.

"Propaganda, bro! It's to distract you from the truth!"

HOLY SHIT I missed this one. Notice how in this shot, Gwen is not visible at all. Hobie notices they're out of hershot of her for the first time. And his first line is - 'Propaganda.' Their watches can take them anywhere. When Gwen needed to, she was taken to exactly where she needed in Mumbattan. But when they're heading towards HQ, Jessica makes them walk through the lobby. They could have been sent directly to Miguel's station, but instead she makes them do the whole tour, which serves as a flex of muscle. In order, Miles was shown the massive number of members in the Society, then their prisoners, then the go-home-machine. Only THEN can they see Miguel. All of which was intent to intimidate Miles on purpose. Hobie tells him directly: 'Everything you just saw was propaganda.'

M: And what's that?

"I ain't got a Scooby Doo, mate. Cause that's what they want."

One of the most iconic and notable of his quotes. Cockney aside, this line ties back in with his discussion with Gwen just a couple minutes before. They've done their tour and walk. Both Jess and Gwen have been given a chance to prime or explain to Miles anything, and both have chosen not to. So Hobie simply tells him, 'They want you in the dark. And they're sending you into a fight.'

The next line is:

H: Why do you want to be part of this lot? M: To get a watch. H: Make your own watch.

Miles sucks his teeth at Hobie.

Because of this - Hobie begins to change methods. Which I cannot stress is incredibly perceptive of him.

Miles is exasperated with him. So instead of dissuasion and making the society out to be uncool, he tries to turn Miles' attention towards his family.

"Bet you got a nice setup, huh? Nice parents?"

This line is a very well done one, with two things of notice. First, I find it interesting that the screenplay phrases this line as a question, not a sentence. Hobie is asking. He's taking a shot in the dark here. And this is backed up by his delivery; Hobie hesitates while saying this. The only line in which he does so. He may not know about Miles' mom and dad, because Gwen hadn't met them when she met Hobie. But still, Hobie asks, hoping the reminder of Miles' parents will dissuade him from continuing.

M: They're fine. H: [After this line, Hobie turns black and white momentarily. Potentially a nod to the fact that this conversation is the only 'black and white' one Miles has had so far.] M: But we got into a fight. They just want what's best for me, so...

[Hobie frowns. The scene and dialogue REALLY starts to pick-up from here.]

"That's a bloody shame. Because you're not ready for everyone else."

As the scene progresses Hobie goes from behind Miles, to beside him like an ally. Then, when Gwen finally comes back into frame, Hobie crosses in front of him. When Miles mentions his parents wanting what's best for him, Hobie warns that everyone else does not want what's best for him. At the same time, visually Gwen has her back to Miles, and Hobie puts himself between Miles and Gwen, trying to block his path. The scene is set up to show that in Hobie's eyes, Gwen is turning her back on Miles. She does not have his best interest in mind. Hobie is telling Miles 'They're using propaganda on you, they're keeping you in the dark, and they do not have your best interest at mind. You're not ready for this." And he physically tries to block Miles from continuing, one last time.

Miles goes through Hobie, and now within earshot of Gwen again, this is Hobie's final chance and push to get as much information into Miles as he can - without freaking Miles out. Above all else, he needs Miles to be prepared, confident, and willing to fight back.

His voice becomes more serious, and he starts speaking more straight-forward and a lot less cryptically.

"Listen to me, bruv. The whole point of being Spider-man is your independence. Being your own boss, you don't need all this!"

I think Hobie saying this reveals a lot about his character, especially understanding the context where he's from. While many Spider-men would agree that being Spider-man is about responsibility and power - to Hobie, it is about independence, and freedom. Hobie is a freedom fighter, and one of the only Spider-men besides Noir that knows how to fight systemic threats as well as physical ones. To him, being Spiderman is about being able to free yourself and others. It's about independence and freedom, and he's trying to nail that in Miles' head one last time.

M: Then why are you here?

"Looking out for my drummer, is all."

As the scene is coming to a close, the writers chose this time to reveal some of Hobie's motivations, starting with the independence comment, and now this. Despite knowing about Gwen's deception towards Miles, he is still looking out for her - and Miles. This is the writers' and Hobie's last push to solidify himself as an ally to Miles and the viewer.

M: I want to be in a band. I want to see my friends, and I need a watch to do that. G: Guys, come on.

"Alright, Squashed. Just don't enlist until you know about who you're fighting."

I genuinely had to sit and ask myself why the writers would choose to leave Hobie's collective effort - a LOT of effort - with this line. And honestly, I think it's a perfect segway. Hobie chooses his words very clearly; He doesn't say 'what', he says 'who'. The next scene leads into Miguel's intro, and up until this point, Miles doesn't know who he is. He only knows about the Society, but never who is at the top. We know about Miguel, but all Miles knows is his name. That's why Hobie says 'who you're fighting'. Because the Society isn't really a Society, and this isn't really between Miles and the Society at all. It's a dictatorship - and the person he's enlisting to fight is Miguel. The perfect introduction and warning to the person he's about to meet. He's telling Miles, 'Don't rush into it. Wait until you meet Miguel first'. And when Miles does meet Miguel, he finally sees that this isn't the place he thought it was, just like Hobie said. ALSO EVEN MORE INTERESTINGLY - THIS is one of the lines that is changed between the two versions of spiderverse (there are two theatrical versions on release.) In the alternative he says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting.' And I think that the fact the writers chose to publish two different versions of this line goes to show how powerful they knew this line would be in Miles' characterization. There is so much Hobie has left to say to him, but only one line - and so we get two versions. How fun!

With the scene now over, we see a change in Hobie's demeanor, and I love the writers' choice to have the shot linger on Hobie.

We see him give Miles a look that isn't exactly full of confidence, but from this point forward, Hobie chooses to hang back, no longer having any motivation to instigate. He knows his work here is done, and now all he can really do is wait for Miguel to reveal his true colors, and hope that he got through enough to Miles that he will react, and fight back.

And closing out the scene - I noticed that when Peter B. arrives Hobie pointedly says

"Oh boy, Humbling Reality Spider-man has arrived."

All I'll say about this is Hobie has to be Jamaican cause that was so mfing rude shgjfkghjgjkdfjk

Hobie has about three lines between this point and then end of his screentime - Two of which were his lines to Mayday, and his comment during the canon events.

But there is one shot of him before it all happens. And after this shot the movie begins staging Hobie in specific a very different way than anyone else.

The moment begins with Miles' line 'My Dad is about to be captain.'

The camera pans to each character. Gwen, Peter, and Jess all avert their eyes. Miguel looks at Miles. And Hobie is the only one who looks at all of them. Instead of looking down, he looks to the others, in anticipation of whats going to happen. It's also important to note that this was probably news to Hobie. He probably didn't know Miles' dad was a cop - or at the very least going to be captain. So the understanding of just how much trouble Miles is in kinda multiplies in this moment.

Then, this happens

From this point forward, every time Hobie is portrayed, he is shown as separate from the other characters, always being divided from the group - with Miles as the divider. Even as the camera moves, Hobie visually remains - quite literally - as the only person in Miles' corner. And as the scene goes on, he moves farther and farther into that corner.

Until finally the scene comes to a climax, and Hobie gets two shots to himself - delivering his final lines.

"Here we go." - "Hobie, You're not helping." - "Good."

GUYS IM GONNA CRY OKAY IM GONNA CRY

This is Hobie seeing his work pay off. This is him knowing that he got through to Miles and that it was worth it. He's proud of him.

Hobie knew what he came to do, and he used literally every line he said to Miles to the FULLEST extent. He doesn't give a fuck if he's not helping the Society. He's helping Miles. And now he knows his work is done.

Being a punk is not about being a hero, it's about empowering those who feel powerless. HE UNDERSTOOD THE MOTHERFUCKING ASSIGNMENT.

IN SHORT - HOLLYWOOD PAY YOUR FUCKING WRITERS I SWEAR TO GOD.

if you read this far let me know :) thanks bye

#ill repost the ending as its own post as well yay #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #miles morales #gwen stacy #jessica drew #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv analysis #across the spiderverse #spidergwen #spiderwoman #peter parker #peter b parker

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sansaorgana · 8 days

Text

— STILL PURE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:

WORD COUNT — 2,990

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL PURE

Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.

Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.

“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.

“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.

“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.

“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”

“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”

Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him.

“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.

Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.

She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.

Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.

At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.

“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.

“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.

A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.

“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.

They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.

“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.

“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.

You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.

Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.

“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.

“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.

“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.

“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.

“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.

You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.

“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.

“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.

You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.

“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.

“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”

“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.

There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.

“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.

Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.

“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.

“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.

You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.

“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.

“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.

“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”

“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”

“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.

You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.

“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”

But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.

“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”

You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.

“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”

The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.

You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.

Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.

The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.

“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”

Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.

“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.

“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.

“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit.

Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not.

Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.

“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.

“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”

“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.

“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”

“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.

“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.

Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.

“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”

Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.

“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”

Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.

“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.

MASTERLIST

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction

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elle555 · 5 months

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astrology observation🐀

🦦sag 11h people can be the one who’s constantly making friends wherever they go and tend to be the “loud” one of the group

✨leo with cancer placements can be very difficult to understand or even get too know sometimes

🎀taurus placements especially 6h could be the type to only have a makeup/skincare routine and call it the day

⭐️pisces moons are the REAL empaths out of the other two water signs they constantly visions or use their imagination as if they were in someone else’s shoes

🌫️any virgo/pisces placement even asteroid or nn/sn are always people who help or want to be needed by someone or something , they will give you unwanted information and tips out of love and support

🍋leo 11h people are the definition of loyalty especially towards friends they do anything and every for/with them and will love you with ALL their heart

🌊cancer suns are really shy , quiet while cancer moons are talkative and love knowing people on a personal level

🫧virgos excessively lie idk if it’s the anxiety or they can’t handle accountability or what

🧌Capricorn 4H could mean you had to be mentally and emotionally independent or keep yourself busy, company from a very young age

☕️moon-saturn can mean having a very strained relationship with your mom or she didn’t really allow you to do anything as a child and now you are hesitant of getting out there and having fun

🦪many 9h placements are into foreign languages and traveling more than sagittarius natives

💫cancer risings with their leo 2nd house spend their money on frivolous things like clothes/makeup/art supplies and anything that they can express themselves with and cute their boredom

❄️speaking of cancer placements I think some cancer people with 3rd house cancer could love yearbooks , academic trophies or anything that reminds them of their accomplishments in school

🌹you can spot scorpio/aries placements a mile away the prominent brows , sharp features and the hard facial expressions

🪴libra 10H people attract a lot of people infatuated or insanely attracted to them finding them sexy/sex appeal??

🐚pisces + gemini in big 3 makes someone very creative and fun but also emotionally in-tune with their emotions plus extremely talkative

ANY AND I MEAN ANY LIBRA PLACEMENT IS SO FUCKING PRETTYYY🪷

🪰gemini venus can have like multiple standards/expectations for the people they wanna date

🐸aquarius suns are very adventurous and not afraid to take risks with gemini and libra think things through and can’t decide if they want to do it or not

🪩3rd house/9th house venus and moons listens too a variety of music genres they can go from hip-pop to country music

🌆Sagittarius risings or prominent jupiter influence in first house people have big cheeks ifykyk and very noticeable, contagious smiles

🎢air 3rd house people can go through or have many cars throughout their lives like they have a new car everytime you see them

🎠people with heavy mercury influence are very funny they are quick with it

🧌gemini mercury people are very good at mocking or mimicking how people sound or sing especially if has aspects or a Venusian degree (2°,14°,7°,19°)

👽Uranus 1H people can have very big/muscular calves even ankles

🧸something about aries moons and gemini suns just give off chaotic energy

#astrology #astrology community #astrology observations #earth signs #air signs #mercury signs

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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

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The Truth Behind It All

Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.

The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love.

She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.

Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.

The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room.

“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.

“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.

“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.

“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”

“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”

He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself.

“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”

“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”

“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”

“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”

“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.

“What, love?”

“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom.

—

Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.

A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.

Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.

“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.

“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.

“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”

“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”

“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”

“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”

“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.

Oh how unfair it all was.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you #charles leclerc

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 7 months

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Secret Lovers

Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader

Simon wasn’t someone who very willingly opened up to anyone, his teammates were no exception either, save for Price. It was always better to keep things quiet and let people assume what they pleased instead of trying to answer their questions. Better to remain mysterious than show your cards to the wrong person. a/n:this was originally started because of a snippet @thebeesatemyknees had written, thank you so much for letting me turn this into a full fic! I hope I was able to do it proper justice warnings:none, just tons of fluff Part 2

Simon wasn’t someone who very willingly opened up to anyone, his teammates were no exception either, save for Price. It was always better to keep things quiet and let people assume what they pleased instead of trying to answer their questions. Better to remain mysterious than show your cards to the wrong person. Johnny had badgered him from day one if he had a partner, going on and on about how much he loved his girlfriend. SImon wasn’t going to tell him anything, no matter what he’d keep his lips sealed.

Kyle was the next one to ask, though it was more in passing rather than a true and genuine question when he cornered the older man. They had been discussing mission details when the topic arose, did he have a next of kin? And if so, who would be the one to inform them if Ghost were to be KIA’d? He never asked Simon after that day, instead going on to different topics whether they had to do with the mission or what they wanted to eat. Kyle treated him like a friend, it was nice.

And John, well he knew all about Simon’s personal and very private life.

~~~

You were a new addition to the team, a medic that could stitch up a wound within a minute and get you back on the field within five. They were thankful to have you come around with them, helping stitch up a wound on Johnny’s arm, or cleaning up a gash on Kyle’s head. The only person who seemed to be a little wary around you was Simon, which both Johnny and Kyle felt odd. You fit in their group like the puzzle piece that was missing, and yet Simon acted as if he wanted nothing to do with you. Surely he’d warm up to you a little more, they were all sure of it.

“Thank you all for meeting me on such short notice. We’ve got word that an arms dealer is hosting a gala and we need to get more intel before we can swoop in.” Kate was a woman who took no shit and left no prisoners, she wasn’t going to risk this.

“Who do we want to send?” John was nervous, his men were trained for this, but putting them into a situation where they’d have to become someone else entirely? Nerve wracking.

“I was discussing it with Shepherd last night, and we’ve decided that Simon and Y/N will be going on this mission while the rest of you stake out the building.” All eyes suddenly shifted to Simon who looked calm as ever.

He’d forgone the mask for this mission briefing, knowing that only his teammates and Kate would be in the room with him. Knowing that you were going to be there made things a little more tense, could he handle something that dire?

“If you think that’s what’s best, I fully support the decision.” John wasn’t going to argue, Simon could be suave and charm the pants off of anyone if needed.

“Thank you, we’ll be heading out tomorrow and meeting up at the hotel. Promise me you’ll behave so no one suspects you, please.” Kate knew how much of a troublemaker that Johnny and Kyle could be, given the opportunity of course.

“I’ll make sure of it myself if need be, don’t you worry.” John smiled up at her, leaving Kate to wonder how much trouble there would be.

They would need to debrief you on the plane ride over, given that you weren’t even in the room with everyone. Having something like that just dumped on you with no time to prepare was the worst, how could they manage? Simon would just have John give you the rundown so he could worry about more important things, like how he’d have to act like the two of you were so desperately in love.

You would have an entire day to get comfortable in the hotel room, there would be a few people lingering so you’d get used to being stared at. Simon knew they’d mainly be staring at you, you were downright gorgeous. And with the clothes that had been picked out? A deep navy blue tux, with a pitch black button up and black silk tie. It perfectly matched the dress they’d picked out for you, a deep V down the front that left just enough to the imagination. The color matched his tux almost identically, the only difference was your dress was silk.

“They’ve packed everything for you to do your own hair and makeup, we don’t want you to stand out too much, better to blend in.” It was the smartest idea, if you or Simon were to attract too much attention things would end badly.

“Yeah, Kate told me as much as she could, I made sure to pack my best heels.” You were nervous, it’d been so long since you’d been able to go out to something fancy.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” John knew you were smart and quick witted, but something about this mission unnerved him.

“I’m positive, Simon and I will get the intel and get out before anyone even notices we’re missing.” You were confident everything would go smoothly, Simon could be silent if needed.

John nodded at you, settling back into his seat as the plan began to descend down onto the tarmac below. Simon was staring at you from across the way, palms sweating slightly as the time drew closer to getting inside the hotel. Johnny was going to see how nervous he was and make comments, he was sure of it. The sound of tires squealing brought everyone’s attention to high alert. It was time to grab your things and head to the cars, you were driving over with Simon, leaving the other three to their own car.

It was mainly to not raise any suspicion, if you were seen driving with any man that wasn’t your husband word would spread before you managed to make it to the party. You were absentmindedly playing with your ring, twirling the obnoxiously large diamond with your other fingers. It was a habit you picked up whenever you tended to wear jewelry, though it was much better than picking at your cuticles.

“You feeling alright hun?” Simon glanced over at you, though his own nerves were shot, he wanted you to feel comfortable.

“A little nervous, but that’s to be expected considering the circumstances.” You kept twirling the ring, glancing between Simon and the road ahead of you.

Simon took a quick breath and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together without skipping a beat or taking his eyes off the road. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, you had been waiting to see how long it took before he finally felt comfortable around you. You’d need to practice around everyone else if you were going to look natural around a bunch of strangers. Everything was going to be just fine, you were sure of it.

John had set up everything in the hotel room, along with hanging up your dress and Simon’s tux to help steam out any wrinkles if needed. So far there was nothing to worry about, save for Soap acting like a little shit and pranking Simon and Kyle for the most part. You’d all settled in, changing into comfortable clothes and ordering food so that you wouldn’t have to leave. Simon was cleaning up the kitchen so he could sit down and enjoy dinner with you.

“Do you need any help?” You walked over to him, pressing your hand against his lower back.

“Nah, just need to finish cleaning this plate and we can eat.” Simon smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Whatever you say.” You patted his back gently, heading over to the small kitchen table.

Johnny raised a brow at how you and Simon seemed to naturally work with one another, he didn’t want to raise any suspicion. Kyle on the other hand was ignoring him entirely, digging into his own meal and scrolling through his phone. Simon had finally finished, grabbing his plate of food and heading over to sit with you. He could faintly hear that you were both discussing the mission and going over your alias’ one last time.

“Simon, you need to wear your ring.” You’d gotten on his case the entire day, he kept taking it off complaining that it felt weird to wear it.

“I’ll wear it during the mission tomorrow.” Simon brough the fork to his mouth, focusing on his plate rather than your raised brow.

“You say that now, but when we end up leaving you’re going to forget it and then we’re going to have to drive all the way back because you won’t wear your ring.” You had put yours on right away, mainly because you were forgetful and didn’t want to end up forgetting it.

“Are you really going to make me wear the ring all night?” Simon’s expression would normally terrify a recruit, but you’d gotten used to it.

“If I want to make sure you have your ring on? Yes, I’m going to make you wear your ring until we get back on that plane and go back home.” You’d glue it on if need be, but Simon knew better than to disobey orders.

John chuckled to himself watching the two of you, it was a dynamic he hadn’t seen in quite a while and it was pretty funny to witness. Johnny on the other hand was now even more flabbergasted at the way you worked together. Why did you seem so comfortable arguing with a man who’d killed for less? This was something sinister and it unnerved him to no end, he’d get to the bottom of this.

You’d offered to clean up everyone’s dinner dishes, carefully cleaning any knives before laying them on a towel to be dried by Simon. He walked over to where you were, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull your bodies flush together. Johnny’s jaw dropped open as he slapped Kyle’s arm to get his attention. The playful bickering was one thing, but watching Simon the Ghost Riley be so affectionate?

“Damn, he’s a good actor.” Kyle watched the way you and Simon began to sway gently, giggling at something he’d whispered into your ear.

“Scarily good, didn’t think he had it in ‘em.” Johnny shook his head, turning back towards the computer in front of him.

It wasn’t until the sound of someone kissing caught their attention once more. Simon had dipped you, lips pressed against yours as his arms wrapped around your waist. Johnny’s jaw dropped wide open, well if you weren’t together already that was surely going to change. You pressed your hands against Simon’s chest, laughing happily as you stared up at him.

“Cap, do ya think Lt and the medic are gonna get together after all this?” Johnny had high hopes, no one gets kissed the way Simon kissed you and simply part ways.

“What’re you talking about?” John barely lifted his gaze from the screen, typing up the pre mission notes to help catch up on them before.

“Simon’s practically tonguing the medic! He’s gonna woo her.” He waggled his brows at the older man, cackling when John rolled his eyes.

“Oh, yeah that’s not gonna happen.” John’s attention focused back on the task at hand.

Johnny’s laughing abruptly halted, what the hell had he meant that Simon wasn’t going to woo the medic, it was obvious! Clearly John had no idea what he was talking about, Johnny could see the little twinkle in your eye from across the room.

“Gaz, am I wrong or do ye think Ghost and medic are gonna end up together?” He was determined to get someone to agree with him.

“Oh, if they don’t I’m asking for her number for him.” Kyle may have had a slight crush on you, not that he’d ever admit it.

John sat upright in his chair, focusing on Johnny and Kyle who thought they were being more subtle than they actually were.

“Have you ever looked at their name tag by chance?” John wanted to see if the other two would finally catch on.

Both Johnny and Kyle shook their heads, neither of them had a reason to over analyze your name tag when they had injuries to be taken care of. He sighed softly to himself before glancing over to you and Simon. You were laughing at some bad joke Simon had whispered to you, a bright smile on his face.

“Her last name is Riley.” John watched as realization dawned on their faces.

You’d been married this entire time and no one, besides Price, was none the wiser. How the hell had you managed to keep it hidden from everyone? Then again Simon wasn’t the most overly friendly or affectionate when it came to anyone. You were his wife though, that was different! Surely you could bring out a different side of him, something that no one usually got to…of course.

“Would’ve been nice to know at least.” Johnny shrugged off his disappointment, this was a big thing to keep hidden away.

“It wasn’t my place to tell, just remember that.” John wanted to respect your privacy, it was the least he could do considering your line of work.

Johnny and Kyle understood why Price hadn’t admitted to questions about your relationship, but knowing the truth? It felt good. They watched the way you and Simon danced to the music playing from your phone. Simon’s arms were wrapped around your waist, pressing kisses all over your face as you tried to squirm away. It was a side of their teammate they’d never thought to see, and no one outside of this hotel room would ever get to see it.

At least, not until after the mission of course.

tagging: @gaylemonshark

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