#i was planning to have like half and half new stuff and old stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xzaddyzanakinx · 3 months

Text

Missed Me? Pt 1

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: unprotected PiV, stepcest/inappropriate relationships, oral, rough treatment, gag, spanking, spit, semi-public, knife

Info: you just wanted to go on a run, but dear old dad needed some help in the garage; he fucks you stupid. Inappropriate dad joke. Fuck or die type shit

This gif 🥵 fuck me please

“Where are you going doll?” Anakin’s voice floated over to you from the garage.

“Oh hey!” You said, spinning on your heel and walking toward him after shutting the front door behind you. “I was gonna go for a run.”

“A run?” Anakin asked, lifting an eyebrow in a questioning way.

“Yeah you know? Cause I’m trying out for track?” You reminded him with a slight laugh.

“Sorry baby, I forgot.” Anakin said with a little frown. “Do you have a minute before you go? I need alittle help real quick.”

“Oh yeah sure.” You said, walking over to him in your running shorts and sports bra, a loose jacket of Anakin’s slipping down your shoulder.

“I could get it myself but your tiny arms can reach it better.” He grinned, pointing down into the engine bay of an old truck he was working on.

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, holding out your hand for him to place the wrench in your hand. He happily did so with that cute crooked smile and then dusted off his hands and lifted you up by your waist to sit you down on the lip of the engine bay so you could reach it properly.

He took advantage of your position to stare at your ass, it’d been a long while since he’d seen it the way he wanted to. Maybe it was time for alittle convincing conversation, he thought as he discreetly adjusted his half-hard cock.

Snapping himself back to the current situation he joined you by standing on the drivers side tire and leaning over to explain what he needed you to do. Soon enough you’d extracted a small, but very heavy piece of the engine responsible for getting the exhaust fumes out the exhaust pipe in the back. Anakin explained that in older trucks like this one, these pieces crack and can cause fuel leaks.

“Great job baby.” He said proudly, helping you get down. “I might as well just hire you huh?” He laughed.

“You’re real funny.” You teased. “All I did was take out some bolts.”

“Yeah and that’s like a big chunk of mechanics sweetheart, you’re basically halfway there.” He teased. “It’d be good for you to learn this stuff anyway.”

“I don’t need to know ‘this stuff’ that’s what I have you for.” You said, watched a smirk cross Anakin’s lips.

Anakin raises an eyebrow, handing you a rag to wipe your hands off with. “I suppose you’re right about that doll, that’s alright though I don’t mind it.” He smiled.

You tossed the rag back to him and started to turn around with a little wave so you could get back on task. But Anakin had other plans.

He twisted the rag taut and whipped it quickly out straight at your ass and it connected with a dull *thwap*. You yelped and immediately covered your ass with your hands and spun around to face him with a red face.

“Anakin!” You squeaked, trying to sound stern but only sounding even more flustered than you looked.

"How about instead of you pounding the pavement, I start pounding something else?" His gaze shifts suggestively to your chest before meeting yours again, challenge gleaming in his eyes and a sly smirk on his lips.

“What are you trying to say Anakin?” You scoffed and crossed your arms.

You of course knew exactly what he meant, but it couldn’t hurt to play naive. What had happened between you in the past should probably stay there. It had nearly ruined your reputation during your senior year of highschool. One time, only once, someone caught a glimpse of Anakin sharing a far from fatherly congrats kiss with you in his car after your team won the regional volleyball tournament.

The damage control that came along after the news spread throughout your school and town was intense. Your mother chose to pretend not to hear the rumors and never even mentioned it to either of you. You refused to acknowledge it, Anakin did the same. A few weeks after that, you’d made the painful decision to end your inappropriate relationship; Anakin agreed it was for the best, but that didn’t mean either of you were happy about it.

Now you were in freshman year of college, trying out for track, aiming for the dean’s list, snagging any extra scholarships you could.

The thought was tempting, so so so tempting. You’d missed him. It’s so hard to love someone from a distance when you live in the same house. It was painful, gut wrenchingly painful to wean yourself off those goodnight kisses, the far too long hugs, the couch cuddles, those secret hot and heavy moments you snuck away for every chance you could.

’No.’ You said to yourself , ‘nope, not going there. I. Can’t. Do. That. Again.’

“What am I trying to say?" Anakin repeats, his face mimicking a forlorn puppy. “I miss you.”

“Anakin.” You warned, he can’t use that voice with you. You’d melt. You’d cave.

“Baby, please?” He took a hesitant step forward. “We don’t have to do anything… I just- I miss being close to you.”

“But-“ you started and he held up his hand.

“It was a bad joke I know.” He said apologetically. “I just… you know me I suck at talking about things.”

“It was a bad joke.” You agreed, a soft smile on your lips.

“I know what I said back then… how you’d be better off finding someone your age. It’s true you know? But just cause it’s true doesn’t mean that’s what I actually want.” He whispered, leaning closer until his nose almost touches yours.

“Ani… we really shouldn’t.” You whispered. “You say ‘we don’t have to do anything’ but we both know how we’ll end up if we give in just alittle bit.”

“So you miss me too?” He asked, a little hint of emotion in his voice.

“You’ve always been so good at only hearing what you want to.” You sighed.

“No. I’m just really good at reading between the lines sweetheart.” He said softly, bringing a calloused hand to your cheek.

Anakin was letting his hand hover near your cheek, not quite touching it, just close enough that you could feel his warmth. The fact that he was giving you the choice of even such a small form of intimacy made you want it even more. Hesitantly you allowed the little bit of skin contact, his palm fitting to your cheek perfectly. His thumb rubbed ever so gently across your under-eye, so soothing that if you were to lay down right now, you’d be asleep in seconds.

A warm and genuine smile graced his lips, his eyes shining with adoration and joy that you’d allowed yourself this affection from him.

“I always did love when you wore my clothes.” He whispered, straightening the borrowed jacket back up onto your shoulder. “I like that you still do sometimes.” His tone of voice laced with a horrible longing.

There it was again. That voice. That look in his eyes that made your heart scream. You couldn’t help it, it must be some kind of baser instinct. The horribly painful urge to comfort and hold and love and kiss him when he did this. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

“What are you thinkin’ doll?” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours. His thumb brushing your lower lip while his other hand slid down the fabric of your jacket to rest on your hip.

The respect he showed for your boundaries was always so endearing. Anyone else would’ve just went straight for the bare skin on your waist. It would’ve been so easy to slip his hand beneath the open jacket and squeeze the soft flesh like you knew he wanted to. But he didn’t.

“I’m thinking this is a real bad idea Ani.” You said quietly, even though you were actively inching closer.

“Probably.” He agreed, allowing you full control over the situation. He was itching to give you that kiss you so desperately wanted, but knew it wasn’t his choice. You had to decide.

“Mom would never forgive me.” You mumbled. Knowing that it was true, she turned a blind eye once in hopes of it being a horrible rumor spread by someone at your school. But if word got out a second time around? Game over.

“Mmm no. She wouldn’t.” Anakin whispered, his lips parted and he watched you tilt your chin up.

“It’s just gonna hurt us.” You whispered, your lips centimeters from his. It was taking every bit of control in his body to keep still.

“Like hell.” He agreed, his mouth practically watering as your lip barely gazed his.

“I was just getting over you.” You lied, a last ditch effort to right this wrong before it came to fruition.

“No you weren’t.” He breathed out, hot breath fanning over your wetted lips.

“No. I wasn’t.” You confirmed.

You stay there, your lips so close. Hovering just out of reach, your noses pressed together. The anxiety of waiting for your next move was getting to Anakin and he was trying. He really was trying to behave himself, but fuck you made it so hard on him.

You held your breath and dove in. Lips meeting in a searing kiss, hot and heavy from the very beginning. As if there were no other way to survive, as if you stopped you’d simply crumble to pieces.

Anakin let out a desperate groan and slipped his tongue into your mouth, past your smooth lips to massage your eager tongue. He hummed at the taste of you, having craved it for so long. Like an addict he was doomed the moment he felt your lips again.

Anakin was usually gentle, rough enough when you needed him to be, but right now? You’d never seen him so fucking feral.

He was breathing like he was gasping for air, hot breath from his mouth and nose as he tore the jacket off your shoulders and clumsily grabbed your chin to tilt your head back farther. Practically fucking your mouth with his tongue he walked you backward to his work bench. Cradling your head with one hand and his other was sliding up the back of your sports bra to sit heavy between your shoulder blades.

Your ass hit the wood of the table and he lifted you up and sat you down roughly, the legs scraping across the floor until it was pushed flush against the wall. Anakin’s hands were tight on your hips as he adjusted your angle so that you were perfectly lined up with the big throbbing bulge in his jeans.

He pressed against you, groaning when he realized he could feel the heat of your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts. The delicious ‘mmm’s, ‘mph’s, and ‘uh’s of his relentless mouth on yours was dizzying. He was always so vocal and it was always so fucking hot. You swallowed those gorgeous little noises and returned the favorite with a whimper when he ground his cock against your core.

“Missed you baby.” He mumbled, his sticky kisses trailing down your jaw.

“Missed you Ani.” You parroted back in a breathy escape of air.

Your brain short circuited from the polar opposite contrast of his viscous lips, teeth and tongue on the sensitive skin of your neck, and the gentle caress of his rough hands on your sides and back.

“Please?” He asked, his index finger running back and forth across the waistband of your shorts.

You nodded, attempting to help him pull them down but he got impatient. So impatient that he grabbed his pocket knife and flipped out the blade quicker than you could blink. A loud *skrrrip* of the fabric left you bare. He’d even managed to get rid of your panties without you even realizing. You were too busy feeling your cunt contract around nothing as you gushed fresh arousal at his eagerness.

“S’fucking taking too damn long.” He grumbled, gently but firmly pushing you back to lie down on the table, his other hand flinging random tools, bolts and screws across the garage as he carelessly cleared a place for you.

His knife dipped under your bra at the valley of your breasts and sliced through it easily, allowing your tits to spill out for him to feast on. Anakin must’ve read your mind, because when he latched onto one of your nipples, tossing his knife aside to tweak the other, he mumbled. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

You would’ve laughed had you been capable of breathing correctly. He left your tits to grab your neck and firmly squeeze it, his tongue trailing down your stomach, circling your navel and then wasting no time at all with suctioning his pretty pink lips around your puffy little clit.

He whined and moaned like he was on the receiving end, the way he got pleasure from your pleasure was beautiful. Never had you seen anything like it. A man who loved pussy, correction: your pussy so much that he could stay buried there for hours. Like it was mutually beneficial, he’d rutted into your mattress for over an hour while tongue fucking you into oblivion once. When he finally relented he sat back on his heels to reveal white sticky smears across his thighs and lower stomach. He’d humped himself to orgasm just about as many times as he’d lovingly forced you to endure cumming for him.

This was different. This was pure unfiltered hunger. Both hands under your ass now, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart so he could slurp and lick and destroy you as quickly as possible. He was moaning as if he’d found an oasis after days alone in the desert.

“C’mon baby.” He panted. “Give it to me. Give me what I need.”

His deep rumbling voice flowed through every fiber of your being and snapped the coil in your stomach before it could even finish winding up. He shoved two fingers in your mouth you silence your screams and you swore you could feel the man’s cocky little grin against you as he licked you clean.

“That’s it.” He panted, standing up and licking his lips. He pulled his sweat soaked work shirt off his body and wiped his mouth with it.

“Turn over sweetheart.” He commanded, eyes on fire as he whipped off his belt and dropped his grease stained jeans down around his thighs.

You quickly complied, your toes barely touching the ground as the dull edge of the table bit into your hips. Anakin grabbed both asscheeks and jiggled them. You heard him groan right before a loud *smack* echoed in the garage, a stinging slap that would surely leave a red mark.

You cried out, not in pain, but in need. He knew you loved that and he loved to watch what happens after he spanks you. He pulled your asscheeks apart and watched with his tongue folded over his top row of teeth, the tip hiding behind his top lip as your pussy leaked creamy slick down to your puffy folds.

He bent down, hands still firm on your ass to kiss your dripping hole gently before spitting a fat blob of saliva there for good measure. You heard a rustle of fabric before his sweaty tshirt was tossed over your head and forced into your mouth as a gag, Anakin’s big strong hand gripped the two ends together behind your head like reins.

Without warning he shoved his cock into your tight little pussy and pushed down on your lower back with his forearm to keep you still as he pounded into you.

“Sorry doll.” He panted, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs in a sweaty sticky mess. “Gotta make sure no one can hear you sing for me.”

You could hear the grin in his words, you could feel the unbridled lust seeping into your skin from his closeness. His cock bullying your soft gummy walls, he’d gotten you off. Now it was his turn, and he was going to use you until he burst.

“Missed this so much.” He breathed out, his voice hoarse.

“Thought about you every day. Not just the sex.” He admitted. “You. Just you baby. I love you.”

“Fuckin’ love you.” He grunted, huffing and gritting the words out through his teeth.

“Love this pussy.” Each syllable punctuated by a deep and brutal stroke.

“Mine.” He groaned, his hips stuttering. “Mine. I don’t give a fuck.”

“You hear me?” He asked, pulling on the gag to lift your head. He grabbed a hand full of hair along with it and nodded your head for you. “Yeah ‘course you do princess.”

“Don’t care what anyone says.” He whined, his hips snapping faster.

“God damnit.” He panted heavily, his forehead dropped to the dip under your shoulder blade, a hot breathy open mouth kiss placed there.

His fore arm left your lower back to brace himself against the wall, without the weight of him holding you in place you were helpless to the onslaught of rough thrusts, the table swaying and creaking under the force of his cock drilling into your poor abused cunt.

He’d fucked you stupid, you felt delirious, your head spinning as though your were drunk. You supposed you were, cockdrunk that is. You couldn’t tell up from down, or left from right. The only thing on your mind was Anakin.

You moaned it, screamed it, cried it out with big salty tears soaking the drool and sweat stained shirt caught between your teeth. He was right. He was fucking the living daylights out of you and it would’ve been a real shame if someone had called the cops in worry that you were being murdered.

“Fuck sweetheart. You hear me?” He laughed. “Poor thing. Fucked you senseless huh?”

Had he been talking? He’d been speaking to you and you hadn’t heard a word. You were too busy trying to hold onto the very thin string tethering you to reality.

“Sweet little hole’s been leaking down those pretty thighs of yours. You’re cumming and didn’t even know it baby.” He teased. “Does it just feel that good?”

“So good you can’t tell what’s what? All just one big orgasm huh?” He said, the authority in his tone mixed with condescension was so so sweet.

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you went limp again. Oh shit, he was right. What the hell had he done to you? Your body felt on fire, your cunt almost numb from the onslaught of relentless forced orgasms. No wonder you were so completely out of it. He really had fucked you senseless. You could finally hear yourself, truly hear yourself now that Anakin had brought you back down to earth, and god were you loud.

His hips stuttered, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got closer and closer to the finish line.

“Where do you want it huh?” He asked you, not really expecting an answer. He was gonna fuck his cum into you regardless.

“On this juicy ass?” He asked, squeezing it hard, you frantically shook your head.

“No? Where then?” He taunted. “Your mouth? On those pretty lips? Your hair? No… couldn’t be that baby, you hate that.” He laughed. He was enjoying this power trip way too much.

You whined and squirmed under him your words muffled as you helplessly begged for him to please just cum inside.

He must’ve gotten sick of making himself wait, because the next thing he said was, “Oh I know… you want it riiiight there huh?”

He panted, as he held his hips flush against you, his cock unloading rope after rope of hot cum. He gently released you from the gag, a breathy laugh escaping him when you lazily collapsed on the table.

“C’mon sweetheart, let me clean you up hmm?” He said, his voice deep as he tugged up his jeans.

You tried to hop down from the table but every square inch of you was exhausted and throughly used to the point that you were boneless. Anakin stopped you with a soft kiss on your spine, spreading your cunt open again he thrust his tongue deep inside, sucking his cum and your juices from your spent hole.

That’s when you heard gravel crunching under tires up the length of your driveway.

Part Two

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @bunnylovesani @offthethirlwall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee

@sweetcheesecakesblog@rga11 @luvskywxlker

@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag list

802 notes · View notes

foone · 1 year

Text

You know what I hate about modern mice? how pointlessly anti-repair they are. I have had plenty of mice break over time, and often it's just that some fluff or skin-flakes got wedged in the mouse wheel or under the buttons. You just need to open them up and clean them. Except.. where are the screws?

OH THERE THEY ARE. under the little skid-pads, which cannot be put back on once you take them off, because the adhesive has been ruined! You have to buy replacement pads, if they're available, and maybe cut them down to size, as well as clean off the residue of the previous pads.

You know how this problem could be fixed? JUST DON'T PUT THE PADS ON TOP OF THE SCREWS!

Then you'd have no problem. Easy to disassemble and clean.

But then it'd look 5% uglier because apparently people are scared of seeing screws, and also people might not just throw it out and buy a new one!

It's the terrible sort of weird planned obsolescence that happens as an almost accidental side effect of improving the product. Like, ball mice? They were designed to be disassembled. You didn't even need a screwdriver! Because you had to clean them regularly, or they'd gunk up too fast. Modern optical mice? They still get gunked up, the buttons and wheel still die eventually. They can be cleaned and repaired. But now that it's not required for all of them to be cleaned regularly, that function has been removed. they're designed to be disposable.

The same thing happened with TVs way back when. If you open up a TV from the 50s (or just look at the back, honestly, many of them were designed to be always-open), you'll find a schematic showing where all the tubes are and what models they are. Was this because the 1950s was a golden era of reparability? NO! it's because they burnt out all the time and you had to replace them! As soon as TVs got reliable enough that replacing tubes was no longer needed, the schematics became hidden behind paywalls and for authorized-service-personnel-only.

It would be only a minor change in aesthetics to make your mouse repairable/cleanable. Hell, most of the time when it's not simply fixed by cleaning it, it's because one of these broke:

This is an Omron D2FC-F-7N microswitch, used in a bunch of mice. It's designed to last about a million clicks. With a soldering iron and some solder (like 25$ on amazon) you can trivially replace it. New switches cost between like 10 cents and 2 dollars, depending where you buy it and how many you want. A couple bucks of parts and half an hour's worth of work, you can repair a 40$ mouse that's "died".

But they make it unnecessarily hard with the slide-pads being unreplacable. You have to find ones that match, you have to carefully clean off the old residue with IPA, or the new ones you just bought will fall off. All to make it look SLIGHTLY better (how often are you looking at the aesthetics of the bottom of your mouse, exactly? (no furries are allowed to answer this question!)) and maybe, just maybe, to push it over into "not worth it". You could do all that, but you have to buy new switches, new slide-pads/mouse-feet (SHUT UP FURRIES), and can you remember where your solder even is? you last used it when you were trying to fix that keyboard...

Basically one thing that is maddening to anyone with the very basics of electronic knowledge (seriously: the amount of skill you need for this is the kind you can get in less than an hour from watching a youtube tutorial) that we're surrounded by all this electrical nonsense that will break and have to be thrown out, but is mostly breaking in ways that could be fixed in a very short amount of time with relatively little work.

It's infuriating to go on amazon to buy another damn mouse and it pop up "hey you last bought this in 2021, you fool" and you're like I KNOW, IT SHOULD STILL BE WORKING TODAY!

I have computer parts from the 80s in my room right now that are still working when stuff made in the last 5 years is already dying! There's no reason it should be this way. It's an endless waste of time and money and resources and it's just to make some logitech or whoever executives slightly richer.

It's deeply bullshit. The modern day is going to be identifiable as the geological layer where most of the trash was generated. We're living in the middle of the quisquiliarumferous period: the layer of garbage.

#electronics #right to repair #planned obsolescence #ranting #I'm not actually mad at furries #it's a joke #I am a furry

3K notes · View notes

safination · 2 months

Text

Partners in Death…and Life

Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself

| Part 1: Radio's Not Dead |Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should be Trusted| Masterlist | ao3 Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Hello, I’m back :D This was supposed to be published yesterday, but I got busy. Anyway, thank you for all the likes so far. It motivated me to really finish this chapter. Also once again, I have everything planned out, it really is just a matter of writing it down. *Updated 28/02/2024 Just added some stuff that I thought made sense*

Flick…

Lights flicker above you with a slight buzz. You drape an arm over your eyes when the gleam of the bulb blind you.

The hardwood floors chill your skin, but it’s the sensation of casual loose clothing on your back that warrants your exhale in peace. Just a second. You just need a moment on these hard and chilling floors to ground you… just… one … single … moment to…

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

A stray feather pricks into your arm. The vane tickles, but the barb digs your skin. You’ve called this body ‘yours’ far longer than your human one, yet the feathers that grow on your skin still astound you. You twirl it around your fingers, and wave it in the air like a wand—it’s a proper animalistic feather.

Your nose scrunches into a hard scowl, and you jump up, stomping into the kitchen toward that untouched coffee mug on your counter. Grabbing it, you splash the contents down the sink, letting it flush down the drain.

The sponge is rough against your hands as you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub a̵̯͒n̴̤͝d̶̫͌ ̶͚̇y̶̤̎o̷͔̓u̶̢͐ ̸̓͜s̵̪͗c̸͎͂r̷̀ͅṳ̴̎b̸͖̀ ầ̷̩̯͍̙̳̍͗͘ń̵̰̞̰̕d̴͇̻̮̫̝̓̎̈́ ̶̡̬̬̮̺͗͒́̌͑y̴̙̘̻͇̿̉̐͆ǫ̷͉̟̍̅̑̏ŭ̸̖͓ͅ ̴̛̝͇̭̥̌́́̂s̸̠̑̽̏́c̷̥̺̃̾̊r̶̲̯̈́̈̄͆͊u̵̼̝͕̼̇̍̈́͘b̶͍͖͖̐̾͝.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

You rinse the mug, slamming the cupboard door shut when you drop it next to your own clean one. Fingers run through your feather-hair…hair-feather, or your ‘whatever that grows on your scalp’. Some questions you’ve stopped asking.

An audible grumble… well, uhhhhh…. grumbles from where your stomach is placed in this body, and you munch on your lips to keep the inhumane screech from erupting into the kitchen and breaking all kinds of glassware and little knickknacks that Alastor filled your home with.

(These days, the old trinkets collect dust on your shelves. There haven’t been any new ones in years.)

Chopping Hell’s equivalent of carrots calms you. (It’s honestly the use of some type of razor-sharp object that calms you. You’d prefer a different razor-sharp object, but a sharp knife is a sharp knife, no matter the size.) You chop until there’s enough food to make a proper and decent meal that your stomach will accept.

You crash on the couch, dinner secured on a plate, and flip the television switch. Light flashes into the room when you do.

Ad about some impish business—Not interested.

‘Yeah, I fucked your sister, So what?’ — Boring.

Cooking Venison with Vox— Lame.

Settling on the lifestyle network, you munch on your food. Some poor slimy creature flashes across the screen, and it's her home that will be remodeled because of…something. You’re not sure what that something was. You don’t care enough to find out.

The sounds from the television swap with the silence of your living-room as you take each bite. It’s one of the sadder habits you’ve picked up since purchasing this noisy picture box.

Your eyes wander to that half-filled coat rack, while your ears listen in on the show and that woman did not just say that pink would go with brown. Only your singular coat drapes on the hinge, when this particular design was made to hold two.

A commercial plays for some-thing called the Hazbin Hotel.

Your eyes are stitched to the screen until the final note of the song plays, and a different advertisement takes its spot. You take a sip of your drink. Just ą̷̖̯͈͂ ̷̡̧͚̤̩͎̙͇̞͓̟͈̤̝͉͉͉̘̉͐̓́̆́̇̍̐̿̈̄͜͜͜͝͝s̶̨̢̛̥̣̻̱̰̬̩̹̥̞̟̳̝͔͓͙̗̗͕̟͇̆̉̿į̴̡̢̠͇̱̤͔̙͎͕͛̑̓̒̀̔͆̓͂̃̚͘͘͠ṗ̶̡̢̨̳͙̦̮͍͓̻͎̲̪̲͕͛̔̐́̐̈́̒̒̉̎͛̆̈́̈́̉̔̑̃̕ͅ.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

You blink, and you find your keys locking your front door. Already, your legs are trekking down the garden stones. A flower snarls at you as the gate locks with a click.

Another blink.

Huh…you’re on the bus.

The sign says it’s headed into the city. Living on the outskirts has always been beneficial for you. Not today, though. Today, the one-hour commute makes your feathers bristle.

You read the barely eligible address scribbled on the note, and pat your hair, smoothing the flared feathers sticking out. It seems…

Hmmmmm.

It seems you did not think this through. H-how…How are you going to get to the hotel?

Tagatha calls you a fossil for using one of those flippy telephones. You considered purchasing those fancy telephones with the lights and screens, and loud robotic voices telling you where to turn left, but learning to use a flip-phone brought enough stress for two lifetimes. You’ll happily stay a fossil.

Turns out, you don’t even need the address.

The Hazbin Hotel sticks out. It’s a humongous building with its name written across what you call the sky in blinding neon lights. Your vision zooms in, and you see that the hotel rests on a giant hill at the other edge of the city. Three large neon-lit arrows point to a crudely attached radio tower. Below it, a wooden ship hangs to the side. Circus light bulbs flicker with electricity.

The Hazbin Hotel is an eyesore – it’s exactly what Alastor prefers.

You reach the dinged-up metal gate on the bottom of the hill and reset your hand on the rusted latch. Trekking through the city took a lot, and you were already here. So, why are your legs frozen to the cement? Why does your heartbeat thump in your ears?

“Excuuussseeeee me.”

A snake towers over you. It’s your first time seeing such a slithery specimen as large as him. His hat rests on his hold, and it blinks at you. His hair … or was that skin … puffs out with two red sets of red eyes.

“Can I help you?” you say, warily. Sinners are in hell for a reason.

“Yessssh,” he says, his tongue slithering out. His flaps stick out, all four eyes staring right into your own. “I’d like to be a guessst at this hotel!”

You glance at the eye-sore that’s called a hotel. “I don’t work here.”

His flaps droop. The snake takes a deep breath, and slides the gate open, slithering in with determination in his … er… snake body.

You follow in silence.

The snake matches your pace. “Will you be a guest at this establishment as well?” he asks you. “Or were you given the same sssssuper secret mission?” Just like before, his tongue slithers out—what a funny little odd man.

Bangs grab your attention. When you focus your vision, you see an inky shadow servant striking a nail into broken wood. “Not at all,” you say slowly. “I’m just here to visit someone.”

His flaps open, and three pairs of eyes and a hat meet yours. “I am the great Sir Pentious!” he says with a proud hand on his puffed-up chest. “Inventor. Architect of destruction. Villain extraordinaire!”

You give him your name “….Doctor.”

“It is only the coward who attacks a battler of health.” His flaps droop as he sinks into himself. “You cannot be my rival, I’m afraid.”

“I guess that makes you brave,” you say, humming. The decorations for the hotel are rather dull. Drawn on the middle of the hill, a giant pentagram is etched on the ground. The flowers dwindle on the cliff edge, and do little to combat the grayness surrounding you. “What a shame to hear—I rather love good rivalries.”

The eyes on Sir Pentious’ hat brighten at the same time his own do as well. “Ssssso do I!”

One of the inky shadow servants waves at you.

You wave back.

Light streams from the glass doors. You blink a few times, adjusting to the sudden change of brightness. Circus-themed stained glass decorate the front entrance. One of the less tacky – but still tacky – designs of this hotel.

Sir Pentious taps the glass with the tips of his finger, clinking with each tap, and his eyes water in excitement. His nose crinkles when he takes a deep breath. You weren’t aware he even owned a nose. Sir Pentious fiddles with the flap of his hat, and bangs on the door.

Your smile strains after a minute of banging.

A young lady with long, white hair creaks the door open. You recognize her from the commercial.

Sir Pentious’ flap open and close with each word as he says, “Why, hello, my dear –”

A punch to the face is his reply.

“Oh dear!” you screech. Sir Pentious drops to the ground, and you kneel next to him, a steady hand on his slimy shoulders. “Have you no manners?”

This insolent girl points her spear and stomps a foot on Sir Pentious. She snarls, and her glare hardens.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Sir Pentious’ tongue slithers out as he holds a peace-sign. “I come in peacccccceeeee”

“What are you doing here?” Her spear inches closer.

“Vaggies,” another voice calls out. A blonde with a red pantsuit and a bowtie pokes her head, eyes in a squint. O-oh! You know this lady from the commercial. The Princess of Hell … Cady … Char …Charlie Morningstar! “What’s the problem?” Charlie’s eyes widen when she spots you and Sir Pentious, an honest smile drawn on her face. “Oh, hello again! And hello to you as well!”

“Can you please tell this insolent girl to get her food off this gentleman,” you spit, tilting your nose into the air. Your feathers sharpen when you bristle. “And your weapon away from my face.”

Vaggie takes her foot off Sir Pentious. She holds the spear close, but it’s away from your face.

Sir Pentious straightens into a stand, and the group prattles on.

No one bothers to help you. A huff escapes, and you brush the dirt off your skirt. Absolutely no manners. Insolent and ill-mannered. Would Alastor stay in such a place?

You’ve never laid an eye on someone as unique as this Vaggie. Her hair patterns are similar to wings. It’s almost unheard of to see such a prominent ‘x’. Her flared eyelashes resemble a bird. It strikes you silly. Almost everyone in hell resembles a human body with animal characteristics hidden somewhere. This insolent girl doesn’t appear to have any of that – only miniscule feathers made to appear native to Hell.

“Absolutely!” Charlie exclaims to who you think is Angel Dust. (The porn-star, not the drug. Obviously.) Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile on his face. There’s a squeak every time he bobs his head. That hat of his looks nervous. “This place is about second chances and who deserves one more than this…slithery…slippery…special little man.” Charlie takes a peek at you. “Oh, and this feathery…sheddy… and round-eyed woman.”

You do not shed.

You smile at Charlie, and give her your name, “…and I expect it to be used.”

Angel Dust whips to Vaggie. “Aren’t you supposed to protect this place?” he says and turns to you. “How are we even sure we can trust this lady – no offense, toots.”

“None taken,” you say, dryly.

Charlie’s eyes water when she turns to Vaggie, who easily relents with a sigh.

You’re thrust through the apple and circus-themed doors, squinting at the chandelier. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the design—it reminds you of those old rolled films. Charlie leads you and Sir Pentious further down the hall, all but pushing you in. Vaggie and Angel Dust lag a few steps behind.

Charlie waves her arms to go into an enthusiastic point. “So…this is our bar,” she says. Husk drops his drink, a scowl on his face, “and the bartender. This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after Sir Pentious broke the last one. And this is—”

Vaggie calms her down.

The bar clashes with the red wallpaper of the hotel. It’s almost as if someone just dropped it there, and etched it to the very wall. The wood is firm underneath your touch and feels exactly like what wood should feel.

You turn towards the bar and take your seat. Husk focuses on his drink. “Hello,” you say with a gentle voice that should not be mistaken for kindness. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”

Husk chokes and splatter out his drink, but you only smile at him. He coughs and his ears droop low. “Uh…yes,” he starts. “Good to see you as well.”

“There’s no need to be nervous.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.”

You run your finger across the skeleton wrapped around the bar post. A memory tickles your brain. This is one of the many specimens you owned. It took one whole month to strip the muscle off its tight hold on the bones, and another month just to clean, bleach, and wire together. The heads above the bar sign were a gift to you, and the skeletons were your gift back.

The neural spine pokes your finger as you tap each one. “I see you’ve set up shop here.”

Husk scowls, taking another swig of his drink. “Not much of a choice.”

“And tell me,” you start, “how long have you been here?”

Husk doesn’t answer you.

Charlie calls your name, and waves you over. “Over here,” she says pointing to where Niffty plays with some kind of one-eyes cat, “we have our maid—Niffty!”

Niffty hops on Sir Pentious. “The bad boy is back!” she exclaims, pulling him closer, eyes wide and shaking. A bead of sweat drops from Sir Pentious’ hat. “Never leave me again.”

“We’re about 80% sure she’s harmless….” Charlie prattles on.

“Hello, Niffty.” You smile at her.

She jumps off Sir Pentious, landing with a small ‘humph’, and strides to you with her pointy short legs. She calls out your name.

You squat, meeting her eye. “It’s great to see you again—Is Alastor forcing you here?”

Her eyes shine with an innocent type of glee. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She claps her hands. “I get to chase all the bugs here.” Nifftly leans closer to you, giggling. “Can I be strapped to your table again? I love it when you slice me open.”

“Maybe next ti—”

Charlie grabs your arm, hauling you forward. “Oh! Uh, Alastor! Our gracious facility manager! You've met our newest guest Sir Pentious…hehe…,” she tells him. Charlie keeps pulling you, only stopping when you stand before a grand staircase. “These two will be our special wonderful guests!”

Alastor does little to show you what he feels, there’s just that same empty grin.

He bought a new coat, you note. This new one has white streaks on the new collar and less stripes. Guess some things were more important than others.

You slip out of Charlie’s tight grasp. “I think you’re mistaken, my dear,” you say. “I’m not a guest— just a visitor.”

You hold your husband’s gaze and greet him.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“It’s good to see you,” you say, a smile drawn on your lips. “How are you doing on this wonderful morning?”

Alastor turns to you, drops an item into his grocery basket, and blinks. “I am amazing!” he says. He grabs your hand with his gloved ones and shakes it. His hands are warmer than you expect them to be. “Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure.”

You chuckle at him. “Yes, I’m aware of who you are.”

“Oh, how lovely!” He waves his fingers. “ are you on of my many fans?” His smile strains, and there, you see it, on the corner of his cheek. His nose flares and his smile takes the appearance of a snarl. Maybe it was the other way around.

“A bit,” you admit, adjusting your hold on the basket. “How are your stitches, Sir?”

His eyes widen—brown eyes, you note. “The good doctor!”

“I think you mean the good nurse.”

“Oh yes, yes,” he hums and inches the basket away from your gaze. “I’ve been taking my medicine, and replacing my dressing every three days, just like you said.”

“Good—that’s great to hear. No more accidents?”

“None!” He laughs. “And if one does happen, I’ll be sure to present you with an injury that is only hours old.”

A giggle slips through your lips. “That’s even better to hear,” you say. You clear your throat, tightening the hold on your basket. “I’d hate to take even more of your time. I’ll let you go on with your day.”

A firm grip on the basket handles keeps your feet planted on the glossy floor of the general store. “Not so fast, my dear. I think you still owe me,” he says. Your teeth bare into what you hope is a polite smile. “You promised to show me your marvelous embroidery the next time we meet! You’re not the type of lady to go back on your word now, are you?

“You sure do know how to put such ladies into a tight spot.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light. “I assure you; I don’t mean to. I tend to get very excited about art

“Well, with you holding my integrity hostage, and the addition of such lovely enthusiasm, I find myself having trouble refusing.” You reach into your purse and pull out a clean handkerchief. “Sadly, I wasn’t expecting the general storm to be an art gallery, so this will have to do.”

And there it is again, that same breathy and light laughter. “They really do have everything in here

Alastor takes your handkerchief with steady enthusiasm, studying each stitch carefully. It’s one of your simpler designs—tiny flower bouquets scattered across the fabric. Your eyes are drawn to the contents of his basket: rope, strong acids, latex gloves, rolls of plastic wrap, and other such interesting items.

“You have such beautiful handiwork.”

“You can keep it if you wish,” you tell him. “I have thousands back home, and I’m always weak to such flattering compliments— a real boost to my ego.”

“Splendid!” Alastor slips the handkerchief into his coat. “I love receiving gifts from fans.”

You smile at him to hide your frown. You are not some fan-girl. “Of course.”

Alastor is following you.

The conversation ended several beats of silence ago, but he trails behind your every step. You skip the aisle where they sell produce, stop to grab some eggs, ask the butcher for 50g of chicken liver, and smile back when he smiles back. You sigh and lead Alastor to the end of the general store, and into an aisle.

You snatch a glass bottle of chemicals off the shelf—they really do have everything here. “Going for a hunt soon?” you ask, and read the label.

His smile brightens as he says, “Why yes! There was this wonderful prey that I spotted the other day, and I’m just dying to have his head hanging on my wall.”

You offer him the bottle. “You have a lovely coat. It would be a shame for it to be ruined by stains,” you say. “This always does the trick when dealing with the redder parts of my job.”

He takes the bottle from you.

“Take this as well,” you say and reach into your basket. “It’s the last bottle of 12% hydrogen peroxide in this store, but you need it more than I do. A ratio of fifty-fifty of this and a bit of hair developer in a bucket of water should brighten up your bones. Just let it soak for a day. Oh…and just in case, those two chemicals are safe to mix. You should avoid doing so, but an accident wouldn’t hurt you.”

Alastor offers his basket, and you drop the bottle along with the other hazardous substances. “You sound certain.”

“That is because I am.”

Fate has granted you a humorous shopping companion, and you decide to stop fighting it. Alastor follows you to the bread aisle.

You point to the top shelf. “Can you…?”

He drops the bread into your basket, and stares at you with what you think is curious tenacity.

“My father works as a butcher,” you say, sighing. “He prides himself on catching the venison he sells. We don’t believe in wasting a precious body, so we use it until there is nothing left to give. He came back from his own hunt and wanted to add another antler to his display

Alastor hums. “Won’t you need these then?”

“There’s still a bit leftover sitting in his workshop. I just came to get an extra bottle.”

Alastor continues to follow. “Do you often aid your father in his work?”

“Not as frequent as when I was a teen, but I still aid him when I have the time to do so,” you say. “It’s how I got to be so normal around a knife —the sharp ones are the best, they cut right through the skin, and with enough force, the bones as well. I keep a little collection of bones at home.”

“Such interesting hobbies you have.”

You pick up two coffee bags and hum. “Thank you.”

His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him and reach out to straighten it. Alastor jerks away and spins to reach into the shelf behind you. “I rather detest owing favors, and you have done me two,” he says, offering you an entirely different brand of coffee beans. “I suggest you try this one. It’s flavors are far richer.”

You offer your basket and Alastor drops it right in.

You eye his basket once more. “Will that be all you’re purchasing?”

He nods, smiling at you.

You smile back.

Well, isn’t this just lovely? Well-dressed gentlemen really are your favorite.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Charlie whips her head, mouth wide as she stares at you and then at Alastor. Angel Dust has an arm on his hips, his brows furrowed and mouth quirked to the side an awkward but rather cute frown. Sir Pentious’ hat squints at you with what you assume is confusion—you can’t really tell. Sir Pentious’s tongue sticks out of his bewildered and crooked frown. “Oh! How nice,” Charlie says after a beat. “So, you two know each other?”

“Partners,” you say

“Friends,” Alastor says

Your smile strains as you say, “To be called a friend by the Radio Demon is quite the honor.” Alastor wipes his monocle with a proud puff.

Angel Dust whistles, leaning on the railing with the first set of arms crossed, and the second propped on his hip. “Didn’t think Freak would be the type to have friends.”

“Neither did I!” You say with a loud laugh. “Well, that’s what I am – a f̵̼̎r̴͔̃i̶̦̍e̶͕͠ṋ̸̀d̶͚̋.” You smoothen your puffed-up feathers. “Apologies.”

More introductions are done. Charlie insists on giving Sir Pentious his first lesson on apology. It goes about as well as you think.

Charlie winces a bit “….Ooooookay,” she says and inhales to plaster a huge smile. “Why don’t we… uh… take a look at the kitchen!”

Angel Dust takes one look at Charlie’s enthusiasm, winces, and says he’s getting a drink.

Charlie’s death grip on Sir Pentious stays firm as you trudge to the kitchen. She stalls at every painting to explain its history, and introduces every crack on the wall, showing it off with an enthusiastic glee. Even the water-stained wallpaper gets its own special moment during the tour. (Where is that ill-mannered girl when you need her?)

You lag a few steps behind. “Alastor…”, you say as a greeting.

Alastor matches your pace, using his microphone as a cane. With the very tip of his fingers, he plucks a stray feather off your hair with a coy smile that reaches from ear to ear. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering how I’ve been fairing these last few years,” he says, spinning that microphone of his and waving his hand like some kind of street performer.

“Has it really been that long?”

“Yes, I know I’ve been absent for some time,” he starts. “It’s nothing serious; I assure you. It’s nothing I cannot handle as well.”

“My goodness, and here I thought you were occupied at work.” Your teeth flash when you smile. “But in any case, it’s quite… kind… of you to soothe what little worry this friend might have for you.” Alastor and his microphone laugh at you, but you hum with satisfaction when his eyes narrow into a glare.

Charlie and Sir Pentious wave their hands, calling you from across the hall, and you hasten your steps.

The kitchen intimidates you. So many large and metallic machines. You’re sure it would be a living hell should you ever need to operate such an unorthodox set of appliances.

Copper-red tables fill the space, and similar colored cabinets stick to the wall. Such peculiar stoves they have in this establishment. There seems to be no space for the gas tank, nor a gas burner, just some flat glass with weird markings. You prefer the appliances stashed at your home.

“This…,” Charlie starts, winding her arms to a point, “…is the kitchen!”

Sir Pentious’ flaps extend, his arms rocking with excitement. “Such lovely metallic inventions.” He slithers to counter with a dip that appears to mimic some kind of skin. There’s some type of yellow liquid. “This bubbly torture deviccceeee is my favorite.”

“Uhhhhhh…I love that you love the kitchen appliance,” she says with an honestly gentle smile. “But that’s actually an oil fryer.” Charlie crosses her arm into a big ‘x’. “But no torturing is done here, no siree.”

“What a peculiar shape for an oil fryer to be,” you say, taking a look. Alastor glances over your shoulder to take a peek as well. “And there’s so much metal around—did you run out of paint, perhaps?”

Charlie frowns, her shoulder dropping low. “I’d love to add different colors to the machine, but Vaggie says it would take up too much money and time.”

Her frown lasts a second before she’s smiling again.

“Oh oh oh! You should take a look around. See if there’s anything you might want to add.” Charlie drags you towards one of the cabinets at the back. “We each have a shelf dedicated to our own snacks, but I always love to leave cookies on the communal snack pantry.”

Charlie prattles on, introducing each section of the cabinet. You watch Alastor warily when he shows his teeth. He wiggles his fingers across the air, reaching towards the shelf where Charlie just mentioned Vaggie storing her personal snacks. You slam the cabinet door before he reaches them.

Soft static fills the kitchen air.

“Go on,” Charlie urges. “Take a look around – I know some species of Sinners have specific dietary needs.” She props a hand on her chin. “Like Angel! He can’t seem to be able to have any milk—I wonder why? But he just keeps drinking it anyway for some reason.”

Does the Princess of Hell not know what Lactose Intolerance is? Maybe because she’s never lived as a human. It’s quite humorous, you suppose. A hell-born trying to guide a human, with little to no insight about humanity. Could this be the reason why she’s so naively optimistic?

Sir Pentious’ smile widens, and so does his flap. “You’re… giving…me permission to poke around?”

“Er…yes?”

You open a random cabinet door, and huh…

On the shelf, towards the back, you have the same set of spices in your own kitchen. One of the bottles here has its label stained and fraying at the edges. Another bottle is nearing empty, and the corner of the cap has been chipped off. There was a time, when your own set of spices was stained with oil, and its label frayed because of the constant picking to the edges.

Yesterday, you threw out a set of unopened bottles of spices, its seal still clinging to the caps and brimming with unused flavor, and replaced it with the same set of sealed spices. It’s a waste of your money to keep throwing out something that you never use, but…but…you find it in your grocery basket every single time.

Alastor closes the cabinet with a gentle click.

Your smile fades, and he holds your gaze.

“You are shedding all over my kitchen floors.” Alastor presents you with a bundle of your feathers bunched up on his palm. His grin mocks you.

You turn away, heading where Charlie and Sir Pentious converse. You do not shed.

Alastor pops out of your shadow, towering over you as he inches closer. “Long day?” he says with a hum, that smile still on his face. “You don’t usually start molting until the mid-summer.”

“Oh yes,” you say with a hum, that frown still on your face. “This day has been quite long. How very generous of you to check up on this friend of yours.”

He holds the feathers he’s collected, examining them with a careful eye. “With this rate, you’ll be able to gift a whole pillow.”

Your frown deepens. “Lovely,” you murmur. “I’ll make sure to do so.”

Alastor twirls his microphone and lands it with a soft thunk. He studies you for a second. “Rosie’s last husband got eaten by a shark,” he says. “Not even a loan shark—just a proper dead shark. She swore vengeance on the creature for taking a bite before she had a chance to.”

“What?” you say, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Is that what happened to him? She would be so vague about it when I ask.”

Alastor draws a line along his face, mimicking a smile with his fingers. “Much better, indeed.”

Charlie insists on showing the view from the top of the Hotel. Her arms cross around your own as she chatters about everyone and everything. It’s refreshing to meet a soul as honest as hers.

The elevator ride is painfully slow. The music strains your ears, and this battered metal death box jerks with every floor.

Sir Pentious and his hat scowl at the ‘absolutely inferior ssssmmelting of this handle, Charlie’ and ‘this piss poor wiring. The endsss are not aligned to the proper sssssafety guidelineeeesss’ or something.

Charlie listens in on every word, nodding to indicate that she hears each and everyone. It makes you smile. Alastor picks at your stray feathers with the tip of his fingers, preening the areas you have difficulty reaching.

Moments too late, the elevator doors open with that heavenly ding.

“The view up here is helltastically a-mazing!” Charlie informs the group. “Alastor, you often hide up here or inside the radio tower. It’s really good, right?”

Alastor switches his hold on the microphone, swinging to catch it. “Quite helltastic indeed!” he says. “ I get to see the whole city underneath my very feet.”

Sir Pentious nods. “I, too, would love to sssseee the city underneath me!”

Alastor swings a door open, gesturing for the group to enter like a gentleman. Charlie whispers an audible ‘awww’ at the sight and saunters right in. Sir Pentious follows along, slithering behind her.

He shuts the door when you take a step forward, separating you from Charlie and Sir Pentious.

There’s still that never ending smile on his lips as Alastor strides to the other end of the hallway, playing with his microphone. You follow behind in silence. Alastor opens a different door, and this time, you step through.

Alastor closes the door, leaving you and him together, alone, on this flimsy balcony. He beams at you, taking a step forward—

You slap him.

Radio static glitches from his microphone. There, on the corner of his cheek, you see the strain in his smile. His eyes harden into a glare, his nostrils flare, and his smile takes on the appearance of a snarl.

The air around you starts to gray with static. Symbols carve themselves into the space.

You slap him again, staring down at him.

“Is that all you came to do?” Alastor says to you with a low snarl, but the symbols dissolve and his antlers shrink.

You turn towards the view, propping a hand on your chin. “Such harsh words for a friend,” you say with a sarcastic smile. “It’s a wonder why you don’t have more with such a dazzling personality. At any rate, it’ll be impossible to find yourself a wife.”

His eyes twitch, and Alastor strikes the ground with his microphone. “Well, consider it an honor,” he says, inching closer, mimicking your smile. “Not many can say such words to me, much less be able to strike my flesh

“Maybe they should—someone certainly has to.”

Alastor still has a smile—he always has a smile. You watch as his eyes morph into radio dials, and the absolute audacity of that man to look at you like that.

Your feathers sharpen and crack at the sight. “D̷̝̈́o̷̞͊n̷̟̂'̷̗̏ť̵͔ ̴̱̀f̷̳̓u̴͍̓c̷̛͕ḳ̵͝ ̴̲̽w̸̞̑í̵̞t̴̼̐ḥ̷͝ ̵̫͌m̸̻̔e̸̡͘!— you never have, so don’t start. Don’t test me—not today, my deerest,” you say, hissing at him.

“What is it that you want, exactly?” he says, glancing down at you. “Unless you are a child, I expect you to use your words.”

“You know I’m not just some friend — you do not allow yourself to make such connections. We’re partners,” you tell him, and you don’t know why you remind him when he should already know. Was it in fear that he forgot? “But you left without as much as a word.”

“Was it that I left? Or was it that I left you?” Alastor says with casualty as if to show you such dismissal, and oh…yes, your husband can be a cruel man, indeed. Time and sweet smiles made you forget.

You rub your hands on your face, taking one deep breath. “I want what I deserve—an explanation,” you say. “That’s all I need as your wife.”

It’s his silence that makes you turn away.

“I see…” Your face falls. “Perhaps, it was a mistake to seek you out. A fool’s errand.”

You study the sinners below. The whole city really can be seen from underneath your very feet. (You ignore the trembling of your fists. You’re a doctor, for fucks sake. Your hands don’t tremble…at least, they never have before.)

Hesitant, but gentle touches pick at your feathers. Alastor preens you with warm hands. “You are not a fool, my love,” he says. “I would not be yours if such were the case.”

You harden your heart for you cannot let this man see the cracks. “This is not what I wish to hear,” you say, voice steady.

Alastor does not answer you.

“Will you just stay silent every time?”

“Yes.”

Finally, you meet his gaze. You hold it as much as he holds yours. “ There is not a thing in this world that you do not do without reason,” you say slowly. “However, I’m not sure if your silence is because you cannot or if it’s because you will not explain yourself to me. Which is it?”

There is nothing on his face that you can read, just a small steady smile that tells you nothing. “I will not.”

“I know you, my deerest, and I know that you’ve never once led me astray.” Your grip on the railing tightens painfully. This day has been long. “Then all I need is your word that you will return to me with that smile of yours when you’ve accomplished what you need to do.”

Alastor smiles at you, twirling his microphone. “We can even shake on it.”

You shake your head. “This is not a deal,” you say. “This is your wife demanding that you do so.”

“Then it shall be done,” Alastor says, inching close enough for his warmth to spread. He turns to you and pokes his cheeks to indicate a smile. "You look much more radiant with one."

You bare your teeth at him, giving a dry smile. “Much better?”

“Indeed.”

You study the sinners below once more, but this time your hands stay steady next to Alastor’s own. Well, Charlie was correct, the view is helltastic. The entertainment district blinds you, but only for a second. And when you sharpen your vision, you can faintly make out acid clouds forming on the outskirts of the city. You should have grabbed an umbrella on your way out.

“I heard you on the radio today,” you say.

He glances at you, his smile widening ever so slightly with smugness. “And you came all this way for me?”

“Well, that is what good friends do for each other.”

Alastor points his nose to the air with a huff.

“I only jest, my deerest,” you say, chuckling at him. “ I came all the way here to see if I’ve been widowed a second time, or just dumped like a common rag.”

“Is that so?”Alastor hums with dissatisfaction. “I’m sure you mentioned something about not noticing such a long disappearance.”

You hold his gaze, inching your hand to cup his cheek. You stop inches above his skin, and your palm hovers enough for Alastor to feel the warmness you hold on your hands. “Don’t pout, my deer,” you tell him, softly, oh so very soft as you caress the air. “Of course, I noticed your absence.”

You clap your hands together with the brightest and most innocent smile you can muster.

“But if I told you that, my deerest,” you start, “I feared that big head of yours would implode if I fed your ego.”

Alastor laughs, and his real voice bleeds in as he does. “That humor of yours has been my most wonderful companion all these years.”

You smile with satisfaction. “My, my, you make such fine compliments.”

His smile relaxes. “I do, indeed!”

“Just as you say that my humor makes a fine companion,” you say as you laugh, bright and heavy, “that smile of yours has been mine.”

A knock breaks the moment.

The door swings open, slow and hesitant. Charlie pokes her head, and her hair droops to the sideways. Behind her, Sir Pentious waves at you. You wave back.

“Oooooooohhhh….yikes,” Charlie says, shrinking deeper into the door. “Am I interrupting? I could just go an—”

“Not at all my dear,” you say. “Come right in. You have such a lovely view, and things like this are better when shared.”

Charlie swings the door wider, sauntering right in, and grabs your hand, squeezing it. “You could live here as well!” she says. Behind her, Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “We accept everyone.”

You flicker your gaze to Alastor. “I already have a home,” you find yourself saying. “And this place is far too close to the city. So much honking and blasting aren’t good for my ears.”

Charlie pouts, but she doesn’t press you.

The view is better when shared. Charlie points at every detail and explains everything you see. The sky darkens to a red, and too soon, it’s time to leave.

There’s a warm, but firm, hand resting on your back when you walk out the door, down the hall, and into the elevator. Alastor keeps his hands steady, even when you reach the common room.

Vaggie is the first to greet your group—well, it’s more appropriate to say she greets Charlie, and you just happen to be there. There’s a bag by her feet. “I was able to find the costumes you need for the exercise,” she says. “Even the giant lollipop is here.”

Charlie squeals. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Her excited gaze filters to you. “I have this wonderful game in mind, and then we could fo a bit of some of that good ol’ roleplay.” Angel Dust quirks a smile from the couch. “You should totally sta—”

“I’m afraid not,” Alastor says, drumming his fingers on his microphone. “I think it’s time for our visitor to head home. She’s had quite a long day.”

“Oh, of course. No worries!” Charlie says, giving you a bright smile—a real genuine and honest smile. “Feel free to come by anytime. The Hazbin Hotel’s doors will always be open should you change your mind.”

Vaggie scratches her face. “Before you go, I want to apologize for this afternoon,” she says. “It wasn’t right of me to be so hostile—I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, my dear. I understand,” you say quickly, ignoring the static behind you. “You were protecting something you cared about. I find great value in those who do.”

Vaggie smiles, and maybe she’s not too bad after all. “Thank you.”

From the couch, Angel Dust props his legs and waves at you. “And you’re welcome to open these doors any day.”

Alastor leads you to the door. You wave back at Niffty and Sir Pentious, whose eyes water as he frowns. Alastor’s hand stays firm as you trudge down the hill, past the rusted gate, into the city, and to the correct bust stop.

“You sure know how to find the most interesting groups of people, my deer,” you say. “Charlie and that hotel of hers are wonderful.”

Alastor adjusts his monocle. “Well, you know me. I see potential, and I follow it wherever it leads.”

“Should I be worried?” you say, chuckling. “The last time you saw potential, it ended with us married.”

“Not at all, my love.”

“You should continue to stay at the hotel,” you find yourself saying. “There’s just something about it—I think you’ll pick up quite a lot from your time there.”

His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him, and reach out to straighten it. Alastor inches closer. The fabric is smooth underneath your touch. There’s stray lint on the shoulder of his coat, and you brush that away. You grab the lapes and adjust its fit, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingers.

“Much better?” he asks.

“Indeed,” you say, softly.

“I will see you soon,” he says, and you hear the unspoken promise and question hidden beneath his words.

“Good.”

Alastor tilts your chin with the tips of fingers. (And oh…oh. His gloves are off, and his hands are warmer than ever) He presses his lips on your cheek.

That blasted bus arrives too soon. You step inside, but turn to your husband and say, “Next time, when you disappear for several years, I expect to be informed and not just left with a vague note,” you say with a huff. “And when you return, I also expect to be the first to be informed.”

“Of course.”

“See to it that you keep your word.”

The bus door closes, and you take your seat. You smile to yourself and lean back on the crusty bus fabric. Patting your pocket, you take out a single gold band, slipping it on your finger.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

That habit of recklessness in moments of excitement was something your father hoped you’d grow out of. Thinking things through never really was one of your many strengths when such an exhilarating opportunity presents itself.

You scold yourself for not double-checking for gloves. Measure twice, cut one, and all that. But no matter, you’ll push through as always, clawing and digging to unearth the treasure left behind.

Your scalpel fits into your palms. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You sigh, breathy and exhilarated, and begin.

‘First, do no harm’

But this…this does not harm a single living being.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

If you guys know who Olivia and Stolar are, that's what I imagine when I think about the reader's hair. Also, maybe some of you noticed, but I'm very relaxed when it comes to formatting my writing. Its why I use quite a lot of ellipses and em dashes and utilize italics and spaces. But the one thing I was very strict about was not to use the word, "miss". So there are no "You miss..." and "I miss..." But the words are there and spoken beneath actions and thoughts, hidden and unspoken, but known. My inbox is always open because I'd like to know what your favorite unspoken "I miss you" is/are. I have my own favorite ones as well.

#alastor x reader #Alastor x wife!reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #Hazbin x reader #Hazbin Hotel imagines #Hazbin imagines #Hazbin Hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x wife reader

459 notes · View notes

gummydummy19 · 3 months

Text

The bear and his honey

Summary: How grumpy Sy won your heart and you won his :))

Content Warnings: Fluff, sunshine x grumpy trope, smut (oral, fingering, piv, creampie, pet names, praise, hint of a size kink)

A/N: Look at that! I wrote another Sy fic! @omgkatinka sent me this: After that fic today I kept thinking about first dates with Sy. And how either epic or awful it would be if your first date was getting stuff from ikea and assembling the stuff together. I feel like that would either forge an unbreakable alliance or doom the connecton right away. But I really like the idea. and I LOVED IT so I included that in here as well :)) It's not their first date but I hope you still like it <3

Word Count: 4k+ (holy shit)

Like a little girl seeing a big teddy bear at the fair, you were sold when you first met Sy. There was something immediately comforting about him. He was quiet and a little grumpy, but he always treated you with respect. A real Southern gentleman, as they say.

It took a long time before he asked you out. You kept running into him at get-togethers, always being drawn to him from the second you walked in.

In the beginning, you worried you were coming on too strong, always sticking to his side, asking him questions, flirting with him...

One night your entire friend group got together again for a cookout and drinks around the fire. Everyone was perfectly tipsy and content, and when the conversation started taking a more juvenile turn, you heard something that made your cheeks feel warm.

"Oh come on, everyone knows Sy's got it bad for you!", Cory boomed, swinging around his beer.

"Shut up, Cory", you hushed him, dismissing it quickly. You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered at the idea of Sy being into you, but when you saw him blushing, (yes, blushing) on the other side of the fire you felt your heart swell.

After that night, you started getting more confident. You loved teasing him, always poking the bear. You tried to get a rise out of him every chance you got, knowing he had a soft spot for you.

Admittedly, you were having a fun time pushing his buttons, but after almost two weeks of flirty comments and hanging under his arm whenever you could, he still hadn't asked you out.

So after another night of teasing, flirting, a couple of debatably too-strong martinis, and what Cory called "canoodling" you finally hit your breaking point.

"Are you planning on asking me out? Like ever?", you blurted out.

Okay, those martinis were definitely too strong.

"Ya want me to?"

Is he joking?

He chuckled and you realised you said that last bit out loud.

That Friday he showed up on your doorstep at exactly 6pm, on the dot, and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

You could tell he really made an effort. He was wearing a button-up shirt and what looked like a fresh, new pair of jeans.

"Oh Sy, these are beautiful!", you squealed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his fuzzy cheek, 'Let me go put them in water, and then we'll be on our way!'

He didn't say much, he just grumbled as you skipped about your apartment in your pretty little dress, like you didn't know exactly what you were doing to him.

He took you to the most expensive restaurant in town, where he briefly told you about his job and his family before casually shifting the conversation back to you.

You let your foot wander up his leg while you innocently told him about yourself, loving the way he startled when the waiter showed up.

Afterward, he walked you home and gave you a kiss on your cheek, just as innocent as the one you had given him before. You were a little disappointed when he didn't come in, but you decided to deem his chivalry as charming.

A week and a half later, he took you to the drive-in for your second date. They showed some old James Bond movie, the perfect combination of action and steamy romance as you cuddled closer to him in his truck.

During a particularly spicy scene, you let your hand wander up his thigh, but before you got to his crotch, he stopped you.

You looked up at him with a frown, but to your surprise, his eyes were still glued to the screen.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thinking maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he just wanted to be friends? Maybe that's why he didn't kiss you last time? Why he didn't wanna come upstairs with you...

The nasty thoughts kept pouring in and you felt yourself spiral down. You shuffled away from Sy's embrace, gently moving to sit as far away from him as possible, half debating just getting out of the car completely.

'What's wrong?' Sy asked as he looked at you, sitting against the door of his truck.

"If you don't want me you can just say that Sy," you said bitterly, staring out the window.

When you heard him chuckle, you angrily snapped your head back to see if you were actually hearing it correctly.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" you spat.

You tried to open the door. You wanted to leave. To get as far away from him as possible, but the door was locked, and before you could protest, he wrapped his big arm around your waist and swiftly pulled you back against him.

You had no time to wriggle yourself out of his grip, because he moved his bearded face down to your ear and whispered, "You can't always get what you want, sugar."

You didn't know what to say. His actions had already confused you and now his words confused you even more.

He grinned at your puzzled look, grabbing your chin in his large paw.

"What do you want?" he asked calmly, looking straight into your eyes.

"You."

"You have me," he stated, making butterflies erupt in your stomach

"Doesn't fucking feel like it." you dared, keeping your voice low and your eyes away from his.

"Bratty little thing, aint ya?," he grinned, secretly a little proud at your ballsiness, tho he'd never admit it.

His grasp on your jaw tightened, making your eyes snap back at his.

"If you want something, you gotta ask nicely, sugar." he drawled, leaning in a bit closer, "Now, what do you want from me."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your eyes darted from his gorgeous eyes down to his plush lips and back before you spoke, "A kiss, please."

A cheesy grin spread over his face and he loosened his grip on your jaw, moving his hand to cup the side of your face, gentle but firm.

He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, "Such a polite girl," before finally attaching his lips to yours.

That night you realized Sy wasn't as soft as you thought he was, in fact, he had quite the mean streak...

Another week of sweet texts and teasing phone calls later, you knew you were in deep.

Your third date wasn't even supposed to be a date. He took you for a walk in the park. You started holding his hand about halfway through the walk, with little intention of ever letting go.

It was meant to be a short stroll, just to get some air, but soon the sun started setting and your stomach started rumbling.

'Ya hungry? I know a good place nearby', he stated, pulling you closer against his side.

'Sy...I'm really not dressed for anything fancy...', you replied, knowing Sy's definition of 'a good place' when it came to you.

'Don't you worry sugar, you're dressed just fine', he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

20 minutes later you were standing at a food truck, being introduced as 'his girl' to one of his old army buddies wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron.

While you munched on your greasy food, Sy told you the truck had been there since last summer, after their last tour. He was there every week.

It wasn't hard to notice the way Sy shifted when he talked about his work. You didn't push or pry, you just listened, letting your thumb trace over his hand as he opened up to you. Funny, how this thing with a man you had only kissed once already felt like the most intimate relationship you'd ever been involved in.

Two weeks after your first kiss, you got Sy to join you for a trip to Ikea. You needed a new bookshelf and your car was too small to fit it, so you convinced Sy to bring his truck. Getting to stroll around with him through the hallways with your hands linked was simply a bonus.

When you first walked in, you could tell Sy was a little uncomfortable. This wasn't exactly his area, fluffy rugs, decorative pillows,...he felt so out of place. But seeing you with a big smile on your face, dragging him around to show him which wineglasses you liked, made it worth it.

You made him feel at ease, but nervous at the same time. The whole thing felt so domestic, so innocent. So, why was the only thought on his mind pushing you onto one of those beds and fucking you six ways from Sunday?

Aside from that kiss in the car and a couple steamy messages, not much had happened between the two of you. It's not like you didn't want to, you just wanted to take it slow and Sy was trying to be a tease gentleman.

By the time you got to the storage place, he was a lot more relaxed. Maybe it was the fact that there were no more soft blankets or colorful couches. This part of the building was definitely more his vibe. Though, being able to show off his strength when it was time to carry the boxes may also have something to do with it...

You were almost at checkout, Sy was pushing the cart, half his view was blocked and he was trying not to crash into anything when he heard you squeal loudly.

"OH MY GOD!"

"What? What happened?" He peaked past the mountain of cardboard. He was worried something might have happened, but when he saw what you were holding, he grinned in confusion.

"He looks just like you!" you exclaimed happily, holding a big, stuffed bear with dark brown fur. "I'm taking him home with me."

Sy tried to keep a stern look but failed miserably, chuckling while he pulled you into him.

"What, am I not enough for you anymore? Should I be worried?", he joked.

"Don't you worry, baby. You will always be my big bear. The little one is just for when you're not around", you explained.

"Well if I'm your bear, you're my honey", he mumbled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. God, he always smelled so fucking good... "Oh! I can spray some of your cologne on him!"

You kept babbling happily as you dragged Sy to the checkout. He didn't even know how long he had been smiling, but somehow he just couldn't stop. Fuck, what are you doing to him?

45 minutes later it was your turn to try and suppress your laugh. You were sitting on your couch, sipping a glass of white wine, and watching your man try and prove just how manly he is.

"Sy, honey, I really think if you just looked at the instructions..."

"I don't need no damn instructions, it's a fucking bookshelf", he grumbled.

"Alright, suit yourself...", you sighed, turning the page of your magazine.

Barely a second later you got startled by a loud bang and a string of curses. You looked up to see the damage and were met with a fuming Sy clutching his thumb.

"Not a word", he said.

"M'not saying anything!", you chuckled.

Another ten minutes passed in silence, aside from the occasional grumble coming from the bulky man you were rapidly falling in love with.

You finally dropped down the magazine next to you and put down your wine.

"Would you just let me help?", you asked, standing in front of him.

"I don't need-"

"Yes, you fucking do! Stop being so damn stubborn, Sy! It's not a sin to look at the manual! It's what it's fucking there for!", you finally snapped.

Sy looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened himself, towering over you.

"You don't scare me, big guy", you dared, crossing your arms.

He raised his brow, tilting back his head a tiny bit as he peered down at you.

"Alright", his voice was calm and collected. A beat of silence passed and the tension could be cut with a knife.

You were starting to get a little confused, not entirely sure what the vibe was anymore but then, without an ounce of effort, Sy picked you up and swung you over his beefy shoulder.

"Sy! What the hell are you doing? Logan??"

A squeal left your throat when you were dropped down on your mattress. You barely had any time to process what was happening before Sy was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as his body covered yours.

"You and that damn mouth of yours", he groaned, "always running ain't it? See what happens when you poke a bear?"

"He finally wants to taste his honey?" you spoke softly.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea", he said before he captured your lips with his.

You tried to wriggle your hands free to touch him, but he wouldn't budge, chuckling into your mouth as he felt you struggle.

"What have I told you about asking for what you want, hmm?"

"Sy, please...", you started begging.

'Please what? Use your words"

"C'mon....just lemme touch you, Sy, s'not funny anymore...", you whined, desperately trying to get closer to him, but you were no match for his strength.

Admittedly, feeling how much bigger and stronger than you he was made you drip right through your panties, but that didn't mean you weren't still desperate to get your hands on him.

Sy finally took pity on you and released your wrists. Your hands immediately clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer as you pulled him in for another breathtaking kiss. One of his big hands semi-gently held your cheek while the other pawed at your body, wherever he could.

It didn't take long before clothes went flying, both yours and his. The sound of his belt unbuckling ran in your ears as your blood pumped faster.

"Fuck, I want you so bad...", you mumbled under your breath, your eyes raking over his furry chest before landing on the tent in his boxers.

"I want you too, baby, so so bad". Blood rushed to your face at the realization that he had heard you. He still had a grin on his face, but this time it was different. Less mean, more dopey.

"Wanna taste you...", he mumbled as he pressed kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.

"Fuck, Sy..."

The first lick between your sticky folds already had him moaning into your pussy. "Sweetest honey I've ever fucking tasted...", he groaned before burying his face back in between your legs.

He ate you out with vigor, swiping his tongue around your clit just enough to drive you crazy before dipping it down to lick long stripes up and down your slit. With all the pent-up tension (and Sy's insane cunnilingus skills), it didn't take long at all before you felt that familiar heat pool down in your belly.

You arched your back off the bed, one hand digging into Sy's scalp as the other frantically grabbed at your pillow.

"Oh fuck, fuck...", you moaned as you felt yourself starting to creep closer to the edge. Sy focussed his full attention solely on your clit now, sucking and nibbling on it while he pressed two of his thick fingers inside you. He curled them up, finding your spot almost immediately and you screamed.

"AH shit! Please please please, don't stop...m'gonna cum!”, you babbled with an unsteady voice.

Usually you don't like to tell your partner when you're about to cum, because for some reason they always seemed to take that as a sign to start doing completely different shit, but you trusted Sy. He clearly knew what he was doing, and to your delight, he kept doing it exactly like that until your thighs were trembling on his shoulders.

You felt the waves of your orgasm roll through your body, your hips mimicking the movement as you bucked against his face. He didn't seem to mind one bit.

He kept his fingers inside you, perfectly stimulating the spongy spot they were nestled against while his lips nursed on your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire as you waited for Sy to stop, so you could finally breathe again. But to your surprise, the big beast between your legs didn't even show signs of slowing down.

"S-Sy...fuck fuck stop...stop stop stop...", you tried to squirm away from the sensitive feeling, but he kept you firmly in his grip.

"fuck..shit..sensitive...too sensitive..Sy, FUCK!" you moaned when the pain suddenly turned into overwhelming pleasure. The only thing you could do was scream for him. With every knock of his fingers against your spot you felt a pressure build, and when his strong arm pressed down harder on your belly, you swore your vision went white.

You wailed as you came again in a manner that could only be described as violent. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you felt yourself gush all over Sy's mouth and fingers. Your brain was too fuzzy to be embarrassed about it. He helped you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he finally let up.

"Fucking hell...", he spoke up first. Your eyes blinked open and you sat up a bit to look at him. You were still finding the right words, trying to piece your brain back together, and then you saw it. The drops in Sy's beard, the wet spot on the mattress...oh my god...no no no no no.

It was as if Sy could read your mind, either that or the horrified look on your face was more obvious than you thought it was.

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life", he stated.

"Really?"

"Absolutely", he promised.

You looked at the twinkle in his eyes and you knew he wasn't lying. God damn, where has this man been all your life. Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him forward by the neck and smashed your lips against his, not caring one bit about the wetness of his beard.

He groaned when you pushed him back on the bed. "My turn", you grinned as you straddled him. You gave him one last peck before peppering kisses on his neck and across his chest.

"Fuck, honey...", he mumbled, gently moving your hair out of your face and keeping a gentle hold of it.

You finally shimmied down his boxers. His cock sprung free. Hard, throbbing, and all yours. You grabbed him by the base and pressed a few teasing kisses along the length of him before licking up a stripe and finally taking the head in your mouth.

A low rumble could be heard deep in his chest as you took him deeper, determined to fit him entirely. To your disappointment, you started gagging when he was barely halfway. You wanted to try again, but Sy gently tugged on your hair. "Not necessary, sweetheart"

"But I wanna make you feel good", you pouted.

"You are, feels so good princess, doesn't have to be all the way to feel good", he reassured you.

You took him in your mouth again and gently bobbed your head up and down, glancing up at him to see his eyes droop. You would have kept going for hours if it meant getting to see him like this. Sadly, he pulled you off his dick way too soon for your liking.

"Wha-but you haven't cum yet!", you whined.

"That's 'cause I'm gonna cum in this pretty pussy.", he stated before flipping you over, leaving him on top of you once again.

"Been wanting to fuck you for so long, you know that? Always skipping around in those damn skirts, teasing me...", he kissed you before you could reply. His rough hands traced about your body, squeezing and kneading at your flesh wherever he could.

You let your knees fall open next to his thighs, opening up for him. When the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You okay, baby?" he asked when he noticed your sudden nervousness.

"Yeah..."

"That doesn't sound very convincing", Sy spoke, sitting up a little. "We don't have to go any further, you know that right? I'm perfectly content just arguing with you over a bookshelf", he grinned and you felt yourself relax.

You gave him a sweet smile and tugged him down for a kiss. The kiss was slow and meaningful, different than before. When he pulled back, Sy's eyes found yours, "What's going on, hmm?" he asked, his tone calm and caring.

"Just been a while...", you stated shyly.

"Been a while for me too, honey, a long while", he admitted.

"How long?", you asked curiously, making him chuckle. "Seven months.", he replied, "and I can wait another seven if you want me to." It was your turn to chuckle, "Luckily, I don't want you to", you kissed him again.

"Since Cory's pool party...", you mumbled against his lips.

"Hmm?"

"Cory's pool party, when I first met you. Don't know how long ago that was exactly, but that's how long it's been for me".

Sy stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't read his expression, but after a few beats, his eyes softened. He leaned in closely, his cock still stiff between your legs.

"Seven months", he whispered, "that's how long that's been."

His words and what they meant hung in the air for a couple seconds and you couldn't figure out what to say, so you settled for, "Fuck me, Sy. Please?"

He grinned and reached in between your trembling bodies to grab his cock, pushing it between your folds. "I'll go slow, sweetheart. Trust me. If I don't, this s'gonna be over real soon".

He slid inside with ease, the stretch was there but bearable. His head dropped to your shoulder when he was fully in, hot breath and scruffy beard tickling your neck. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to urge him deeper somehow.

After what seemed like a century (not that you were complaining), he dragged his hips back, sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in. He repeated his movement a couple times. Your whines turned into moans, getting louder as his thrusts got rougher.

"Fucking hell...best pussy I've ever had", he groaned, pumping into you at a faster pace. He hiked up one of your legs higher over his hip, making him hit inside you deeper while grinding on your still-sensitive clit.

You moaned loudly. Your nails scratched over his biceps and he groaned in your ear. Neither of you was gonna last long and you both knew it.

"Mine", he growled and you almost came on the spot.

"Yours, Sy! Only yours!", you kept babbling while he absolutely destroyed your body, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum for me, baby, fuck..."

Your final orgasm of the night consumed you. "Cumming! I'm cumming...fuck please cum inside me Sy, OH!", you moaned so loud you were sure the neighbors heard you, but you didn't care. Sy grabbed your hips roughly as he chased his own release, following suit before yours was even over.

He looked godly. His hairy chest was all sweaty, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut...you swore you got another tiny orgasm just looking at him and feeling his cock throb inside you.

"Shit...", he groaned breathlessly, "I swear I usually last longer...", he started but you stopped him right away. "Sy, you made me cum three times in the last 45 minutes. I don't think I would have survived any longer."

He chuckled as he fell on top of you, squishing you in the process. You hummed happily, stroking his back while his cock was still buried deep inside you. You could barely breathe but you didn't care, if this was how you met your end, it seemed like a good way to go.

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1 @luxeydior @peyton-warren

#gummydummy19 #fanfiction #fluff #smut #captain syverson #smutty thoughts #henry cavill #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson fic #henry cavill fanfic #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson x you #grumpy x sunshine #grumpy bear #grumpy sunshine trope

988 notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

Text

Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.

Word count: 2,072

Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years

Master list link:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.

Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.

Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.

"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"

Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.

"Yes, we will." she confirmed.

"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."

"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."

"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."

Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.

"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."

He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.

"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.

"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"

"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."

"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.

"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"

Alastor's grin widened.

"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."

"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.

Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.

"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.

"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"

"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.

"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.

"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.

He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.

"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"

He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.

"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."

Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.

"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."

"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.

"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"

"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.

----

"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."

Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.

"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.

The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.

"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"

Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.

Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.

"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"

"Yeah?" Husk grunted.

"Where did you say she was again?"

"I didn't."

Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.

"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Husk sighed.

"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."

"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.

"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."

"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."

Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.

"Alastor, ju-"

Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.

"Best of luck, chums!"

"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.

Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.

Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.

Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.

"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.

"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.

"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"

With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.

Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.

There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?

----

Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.

Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.

The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.

She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.

"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."

Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.

"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.

"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.

"Get your ass out here!"

"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"

"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.

If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.

"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."

----

Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion

557 notes · View notes

ruh--roh-raggy · 5 months

Text

Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Pt. 1

Hello hello! So, I'm fully insane about this man rn. I can't help it. The brain rot has taken over my life and here we are lol. I wanted to write something that really focuses on the domestic fluff side of Reader's life with William, of course there will be some smut thrown in there too because I simply can't help myself 😂😂 Reader and William have just bought their first house together. This story follows their week long escapade of unpacking, making their home perfect, and going down memory lane. Lots of super cute stuff, chapters containing smut will be updated with proper warnings. If you enjoy this story and would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MDNI, 18+ CONTENT AHEAD, smut marked with divider, age gap (reader in 30's William in 40's/50's), some swearing, face sitting, cockwarming, size kink, a singular (1) spank to readers ass, slightly dom! William, praise, Will just wants to give his wife some tender TLC after a long day of lugging boxes around (if I missed any please let me know!

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 3,538

Part 2

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I want to paint the living room green, I think it would look nice with our couch.” William drove down the road, a soft smile on his face as he listened to you ramble on about all of your plans for their new house. Business at the pizzeria had skyrocketed, which meant that he could finally give his pretty little wife the front porch, white picket fence house of her dreams. You should be pulling in about a half hour before the moving truck is scheduled to arrive, allowing the two of you time to empty out his trunk. You stood at his side with a giddy smile on your face, William thumbing through his key ring to find the new shiny gold addition to his collection. He slides the key into the lock, chuckling at your excited squeals as he pushes the door open. He grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from running inside ahead of him.

“Isn’t there some old wives tale about carrying your wife over the threshold of a house?” He mumbles out the vague details he could remember. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle.

“It’s for good luck. Why? Do you want to carry me inside?” You smile coyly up at him.

“Well I’m not going to be the one bringing bad luck into our house.” He proclaims proudly, jabbing a finger into his chest. You let out a shriek as he scoops you up in his strong arms. You press a kiss to his scruffy cheek as you pass through the door. “Well, Mrs. Afton, welcome home.” He smiles down at you.

You spun around the empty living room floor, broom in hand as you did a quick sweep before the furniture got brought in. “Oh, Will, I'm so happy. Our own house.” You beam up at him. Your husband breathes out a chuckle, sweeping you up in his arms as he places a kiss to your forehead. Both of your attention was drawn to the windows as the moving truck rumbled into the driveway.

“Don't lift anything too heavy.” He orders with a firm point of his finger. “I hired movers so you don't have to struggle, if I see you doing too much you're going to be in big trouble later bunny.” You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you place a kiss to his chest.

“I promise I won't work too hard.” You fidget with the hem of his shirt. “I just want everything to be perfect.” You sigh with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

“I promise it will be, we have the whole week to get everything exactly how you want it.” He smiles, his thumb rubbing languidly across your waist. You excitedly threw open the front door, directing the movers inside before clamoring out to the truck yourself. William trailed after you, keeping a close eye on your excited figure. Your husband loved how passionate you were about everything you did, but you also had a tendency to overwork yourself. He sighs as he sees you struggling with a box, gently taking it from your hands and propping it against his hip. He glances around the trailer. “Here.” He nudges a box with his foot, one he had made a subtle marking on to signify it was one he packed light enough for you to easily carry. “Take that one, we’ll go put these in the bedroom.” He hops down from the back of the truck, taking your box from you and wrapping his hands around your waist to lower you safely to the ground. You practically skipped up the porch steps, scooting past the movers as you raced up to the master bedroom. Your mattress sat in the middle of the room. The white, sheetless bed was a stark contrast to the nearly black hardwood.

“We’ll need to go get a bed frame.” You sigh, setting down the box before collapsing on the mattress. William groans as he lays down by your side.

“I’m sure we’re going to have to get a lot of things.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “We’ll take care of everything, doll, don’t worry.” You spent the rest of the afternoon sliding furniture around downstairs while the movers brought in the rest of the boxes. The sun had already set by the time everything was brought in. You collapsed onto the couch with a tired groan, finally kicking your shoes off as you sank into the worn leather of the cushions. William sits beside you, lifting your feet only to drop them back in his lap. You let out a pleased hum as you feel his strong hands knead into your aching muscles. “Day one is officially over.” The two of you exchange a sleepy high five. A soft smile spreads across your lips as you take a moment to look at your husband. His gold, wire framed aviators sitting low on his nose, his large calloused hands massaging your feet with the utmost care and delicacy. You were William’s entire world.

“Honey,” he perks up at your soft voice, calling out to him, “how about I throw something together for dinner so we can get to bed.”

“I don’t think we have any groceries bunny.” He rebuttals with a chuckle. “Are you up for a drive? We could go pick up some pizza.”

“But it’s so cold.” You pout.

“I’ll go grab you one of my coats, sweet girl.” He cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you. You let out a soft hum as you buried your face into the soft fabric of your husband's coat, the comforting smell of his spicy, musky cologne, machine oil, and cigarettes filling your nose. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle into his side as he drove up twisting back roads. The radio crackled softly, whatever song was playing was barely audible over the car's loud blower. You rested your hand on his thigh, William glancing down quickly, the sight of your wedding ring glinting in the soft light bringing a smile to his lips. He loved the fact that you were all his, his pretty wife, his little bunny. He loved how sweet and delicate you were. He had been hardened by years of working in his workshop and other strenuous jobs he had throughout his life, he barely registered this evening was brisk let alone cold. But he definitely wouldn't complain about you cuddling into his side for warmth, how your cheeks and the tip of your nose dusted pink from the chilly night air, how your fingers trembled as you tucked them under his thigh. He shuddered softly as you pressed your lips to his neck, the buzzing, yellow light from the pizza shop's sign illuminating the cab as you and your husband exchanged a look filled with need.

“Hurry back.” You shoot him a coy smile as he stumbles from the car.

The smell of warm crust and greasy pepperoni filled the car, the pizza nicely heating your lap. William’s arm draped over your shoulder, you allowed the rumbling car ride to rock you into his side. Your eyelids grow heavy as you try to keep yourself awake, a sleepy smile crawling across your features as you pull into the driveway. You sighed as you looked around at the mess of moving boxes, your dining table tucked away into a corner that would be too much work to get to. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch doll, I’ll be right back.” William’s hand quickly slips into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as he passes by. You flop back into the cushions, letting the pizza box rest next to you. Even with the short amount of time you’ve spent in the house you could tell how different it was from your old apartment. You and William had moved to the middle of the woods in Hurricane, your nearest neighbor at least ten minutes down the road. There were no sounds of your neighbors talking quietly through the walls, no footsteps of the dog that lived upstairs. The house was completely silent, outside completely pitch black. You jumped as William’s feet started to thud down the stairs. He pushes into the living room with a groan, dragging your mattress behind him. He drops the bed in the middle of the floor with a dull thump, twisting side to side in order to stretch out his back. “I’ll go grab some pillows and blankets.” He smiles at you.

“It’s just like our honeymoon.” You laugh as he pulls you up from the couch. He tilts your chin up with his finger, capturing your lips with his.

“Oh, trust me,” he starts in a sultry tone, “I wish I could spend this entire week in bed with you.” You dropped down onto the mattress, a soft sigh falling from your lips as he massages your shoulders. You smile at him as you watch him disappear upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a box full of your bedding and some pillows. Deciding you weren’t up for the challenge you left the sheets in the box. You piled your comforter and a few throw blankets onto the bed, you crawled in before your husband joined you with the pizza. You two sit side by side, your head falling to rest against his shoulder.

“It’s no Freddy’s.” You grumble at your lackluster pizza. William chuckles in response to your pouting.

“How about we swing by and see Henry tomorrow, I’m sure I can sneak you a piece.” He winks with a lopsided grin.

“That sounds perfect.” The two of you chat quietly as you eat your dinner. Your new house feels too big for just the two of you. You laid on your back, staring at the exposed wood ceiling, you blinked a few times to adjust to the all consuming darkness after William had turned off the light. You felt the blankets shift as he crawled into bed next to you. His silhouette outlined by the soft, pale light of the moon that streamed through the window.

“We should get a dog.” He suddenly whispers, making you giggle. “I don’t want you to get scared all by yourself.” He teases.

“Maybe that’ll get you out of that workshop earlier.” He playfully rolls his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist.

“You know, there’s nothing stopping you from coming to visit me.” He argues with a slight shrug.

“Except that everytime I do I end up sprawled naked on your workbench.” You smirk at him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft material of his tshirt.

“Occupational hazard.” He responds quickly. You both laugh as you cuddle into his chest. He cards his fingers through your hair, his lingering gaze studying your features. “You’re so beautiful, bunny.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush over yours.

His hand paws at your thigh, dragging your leg over his waist as he crushes you against him. You cup his face, deepening the kiss, his beard tickling your palm as you melt into him. Your legs lock around his waist as he rolls on top of you. His large, calloused hands wrap around your sides, pushing your hoodie up and over your head in one swift motion before his lips connect with yours again. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your naked body. He practically purrs at the sight of you, his lips hovering over your neck. Your fingers slid into his hair, a small squeal escaping your lips as he bit down hard on your sensitive skin. You bite your lip, letting out a soft hum as he pushes his hips into you, his already growing bulge noticeable through your thin shorts. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off me today, could you rabbit?” He smirks against your skin. You practically drooled over the sight earlier. William had a box resting on each shoulder, his skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. He paused as he caught sight of you leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest as your eyes raked over him. He smirked, knowing that playful glint in your eye. He smiled as he noticed your cheeks reddening from your position laying below him. He hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts, placing featherlike kisses down your stomach as he eases them down your legs. You moan softly as you feel him nip at the skin of the inside of your thighs. Your back arches off the bed as he brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit, a broken moan leaving your lips. With how busy you had both been due to the move it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate. Your skin was already on fire from the small touch alone, William smirked as he watched your reaction closely. Your hands fisted in the blankets as he tossed your legs over his shoulders, his hot breath bouncing off your already soaked core. His arms slip around your hips, holding you firmly in place as he dove into hungrily lap at your folds. You moan out his name, already attempting to squirm away from his assault. He growls, dragging you closer to him. His fingers dig into your thighs with a bruising force, sure to leave marks behind. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit through your lace panties. He ate you out like a man starved, your soft gasps and quiet moans echoing in the empty room. You whined, tugging on his hair. “What’s the matter bunny?” He pushes your panties out of the way with his fingers, his skin growing slick with your arousal.

“I need you.” You whined, looking down at him with pleading, teary eyes. William gives in immediately with a soft chuckle, never one to deny you what you wanted. He tugs down your panties, placing soft kisses to your legs as he removes your final article of clothing at an agonizingly slow pace. He slides an arm under your back, pulling you on top of him as he collapses into the mattress. Your hands landed on either side of his head as you lost your balance, you blushed as you realized you were sitting on his broad, strong chest. He brushes your hair behind your ear before both of his hands wrap around your thighs.

“Come sit, bunny.” He coos, your face burning at his casual command. William absolutely loved whenever you sat on his face. However, he was well aware he would have to warm you up to the idea whenever he suggested it. You were always worried you were too heavy, you hadn't shaved, or you hadn't showered, and your husband always reassured you that none of those things were going to pose any problems for him. His beard tickled the inside of your thighs as you hovered over his eager mouth. His hands squeezed at your hips, groaning as your soft skin squished between his fingers. You cry out as he pushes you down onto him, his tongue lapping at your clit before he shoves his way in between your folds.

“Oh, fuck! Will!” You moan, your hips moving on their own. You let out a soft sob everytime his nose bumps against your clit. He growls, pressing hard into your hips as you try to wiggle away, his assault on your already sensitive cunt threatening to push you over the edge mere minutes after he starts. “Baby, it's too much.” Your voice shook as you tried to plead with him, years slipping from your damp eyes onto your cheeks as the coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter. William’s eyes were hazy as they met yours, his face smothered in your thighs as he greedily sucked your clit into his mouth. You tug his hair, making you groan against him. “I'm gonna cum.” It was all too much for you to handle, your body losing its rhythm as your climax threatened to rip through you. William let out an affirmative hum below you, knowing you were close by the slowing of your movements. He decides it's time for him to take over, determined to make you cum on his tongue. His fingers dig into the curve of your ass as he gradually increases the pace of your hips. You yelped as one of his hands suddenly connects with your skin, the mixture of pleasure and slight pain causing your soaked cunt to throb. Broken moans and whines rumbled effortlessly from your mouth, the fine tuned roaming of his hands paired with his expert tongue knowing just how you wanted to be touched to fall apart in his hands. William never got tired of making you finish. The way you would fall absolutely silent and still for a moment, mouth hanging open as no sound dared escape, your body taking time to catch up to the immense pleasure you were feeling. Now was no different. William felt his cock twitch at the sight of your eyes rolling back in your head, that brief moment of absolute silence making his ears ring before you screamed his name. He forced your hips to keep moving, never allowing your pace to slow as he felt your thighs shaking against his cheeks. You practically collapsed as he finally pulled his mouth off of you, a firm hand on your lower back keeping you upright as you shakily moved yourself back onto his chest. William reaches up to caress your cheek, wiping away tears that streaked down your skin. Your eyes felt heavy, you struggled to keep them open and on your husband as you came down from your high.

“Do you want to lay down?” He asks in a soft tone. You nod, collapsing into the mattress with a happy sigh. You hear the soft shuffling of William getting undressed before he gets under the blankets with a groan. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved closer, his fingers ghosting over your waist before your pulled back against him. You can't help but giggle slightly as you feel his erection pressed firmly against your back.

“You want some help with that?” You press yourself into him, his breath catching in his throat at the contact as he tries to stifle a growl.

“You can't even keep your eyes open bunny.” He chuckles, you smile as you feel it rumble in his chest. You let out a dismissive sound, giving him a slight shrug. “How about we compromise?” You glance over your shoulder at him, curiously raising an eyebrow. Your eyes slide shut, letting out a soft hum as you feel his rough hands roaming over your skin. His fingers dip in between your thighs, gently coaxing them apart. You gasp as you feel his member prod at your entrance. “I could always fill you up before we go to bed.” He offers with a smirk, your face instantly flushing at the thought of cuddling up with your husband, trying not to squirm too much as he impaled you on his thick cock. You give him a nervous yet excited nod, the sight of you looking at him so sweetly as you chewed on your lip making it hard for him to not flip you over and pound you into the mattress. William assisted you holding your legs open, one massive paw wrapped around your thigh to allow him room to attempt to fit inside of you. You gripped tightly onto the sheets as he slowly began to push inside, the stretch from making it barely past his tip intense due to the lack of prep. “That's it sweetheart, just relax.” He purrs in your ear, pressing his lips to your shoulder. Another roll of his hips makes you whimper, feeling him slip slightly deeper into your fluttering cunt.

“Fuck, ‘s too big, ‘s not going to fit.” Your words slut as you tried to focus enough to speak. His pace was agonizing, you could feel every inch of him and every thick vein sliding over your velvety walls. You let out a shuddering breath as he finally bottoms out in you, the tip of his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. You felt like you would break in half at the smallest wrong move, even your slight shifting as you cuddled up with William had the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

“Such a good bunny, taking all of me so well.” His lips trail over your neck, you feel him smirk as you clench around him, repeatedly kissing and teasing what he knew was a rather sensitive spot of skin.

Your fingers intertwined with his, his strong arms wrapped protectively around as you're held flush to his chest.

“I love you.” You say quietly, feeling sleep trying it's hardest to pull you under. He gives your hand a soft squeeze.

“And I love you, sweet girl.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)

466 notes · View notes

unreliablesnake · 1 year

Text

Pregnant (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: You find out you're pregnant, and this little piece of information soon reaches Vincent as well.

Note: Part of the Vincent takes a liking to you series. Find it here. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warnings: afab!reader, pregnancy

It couldn't be. It must be the stress from the wedding, you kept telling yourself, although you stopped believing it hours ago when you went to the pharmacy to pick up a pregnancy test. With each passing second it was getting realier, the possibility that you were pregnant.

Marrying a man like Vincent was one thing. You could always get a divorce and live the rest of your life free of him. But giving birth to his child, his heir, was a completely different matter. It made you feel uneasy, and you didn't know what to do to calm down a bit.

“Is everything okay in there?” the employee of the pharmacy–who kindly let you use their bathroom–asked worriedly.

By now, as you were sitting on the cold tiles with two identical tests in front of you, you were already sobbing. You didn't want them to be positive. No, they couldn't be. That would be too much to handle right now.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Give me three more minutes, please,” you called out, trying your best to sound calm.

The time displayed on your phone seemed to have frozen some minutes ago. It couldn't take this long to get the results, you'd been sitting there for what felt like at least half an hour. But according to the clock it had only been three minutes, and by now you'd already been through a nervous breakdown.

It must be a new record.

Then the alarm went off, and you finally got yourself to take a look at the tests lying in front of you. They were positive. They were fucking positive, meaning you were pregnant with the child of a man you weren't even sure you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Sure, sure, a few years of marriage sounded like fun, but the whole 'til death do us part thing wasn't something you wanted. Fun's fun, but who needs that in the long run? You sign the divorce papers maybe five or seven years from now and get on the first flight to New York.

Now your plans have begun to slowly slip away. You could never be able to leave your child behind, but you were also sure Vincent wouldn't let you take his only heir away from him. There would either be a nasty custody battle he would win with the army of lawyers he could afford, or you would be stuck here with him at least until the kid is old enough to go to college.

With a heavy sigh, you picked up the tests and tossed them into your purse, then looked in the mirror and took a few deep breaths. You were okay. Everything was okay. You couldn't let anyone see that you were upset, especially not the driver who was waiting for you outside.

If he noticed something was wrong with you, he would immediately report it to Vincent, and you hadn't figured out how to tell him the truth yet. You didn't even know how he would react, after all you couldn't just waltz in and start the conversation with it.

The drive home wasn't helping you. He knew. The damn driver knew something wasn't right, and you didn't miss the way he kept looking at you through the rearview mirror.

By the time you got home, you knew your dear lover would be there as well. And just as you expected, he was waiting for you outside, opening the door of the car to help you out of it. He didn't let go of your hand, and he didn't even say a word. He was just watching you with a quizzical look and waited for you to explain yourself.

“Mon amour?” he asked with an expectant look.

“Yes?” you replied, playing dumb.

Shaking his head, he swept a strand of stray hair behind your ear and said, “Something's wrong, I can tell.” But you remained silent, and the only reaction from you was a small smile as you looked up at him. “You do know you can be honest with me, right?”

Sure. Just not about this. “Of course I know. But there's nothing to worry about,” you lied. Oh, if you only knew. He would be livid, you were sure about that.

So you moved past him and walked inside, hoping he would finally stop bothering you with this. You had a lot to think about now, preferably somewhere away from. So you put your purse in the bedroom, then went to take a long, hot shower to clear your mind.

Things would be okay. First, you needed to see a doctor to find out how far along you were into the pregnancy, and to make sure the baby was okay. Everything else came after this. You had time to figure it out. You hadn't had any symptoms yet apart from being a little nauseous, so he sure wouldn't notice.

After you put on your super soft robe, you walked out of the bathroom as you dried your hair with a towel. But you came to an abrupt halt when you found Vincent sitting on the edge of the bed with the two positive tests next to him.

“Care to explain these?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

You were mad. You were really, really mad at him right now. “You seriously went through my purse?” you asked angrily.

He took a deep breath that he let out slowly, his green eyes never leaving your face. You couldn't read his expression, you had no idea if he was angry or happy or totally indifferent. It was hard to tell what was going through his mind and what he was about to say or do.

But after long minutes of deafening silence, he finally looked down at the tests and spoke up. “I was told you went to a pharmacy. I was worried about you so I sent someone to find out what you bought. When I heard you bought these, and that you used their bathroom to do the tests, I asked my man to check the trashcan in there. And what did he find? Nothing. I guessed you had them with you.”

Vincent signaled you to come closer, and you did as he wanted, taking enough steps in his direction to close the gap between you. He reached out to take your hands, pulling you between his legs. You didn't dare to speak up, instead you just watched him cautiously and waited for him to say or do something.

“You should have just told me, love. What did you think? That I would be mad at you?” he asked, his voice sickeningly sweet all of a sudden.

“I don't know,” you admitted.

Suddenly he let out a laugh, then pulled you down so your faces were on the same level. “We're getting married, and now we're starting our own family. Why wouldn't I be happy?” He placed a soft kiss on your lips while he waited for your reaction. “Are you happy too?”

What were you supposed to say to this? You were many things, but at the moment happy wasn't one of them. Confused, scared, uncertain. These words were better at describing your current feelings.

“Listen, I'm here by your side. I'll keep you safe. I'll keep our child safe. There's nothing to worry about,” he assured you before pulling you into his lap. “We're gonna be happy together, I promise you that.”

You rested your forehead against his, and he absentmindedly drew circles on the skin of your thigh. You believed him. You always knew he would protect his child, but he said you first. He really must have loved you.

Maybe him finding out so soon after you was for the best. You weren't sure you could have lied to him for weeks, making it look like everything was okay when it wasn't. But now that you knew he was happy, you knew things would get easier.

Maybe he would raise security whenever you went somewhere, but it would all show you that he truly cared about you. You could handle that. You could learn to handle that.

#vincent de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont #john wick 4 #john wick chapter 4

1K notes · View notes

hello-eden · 8 days

Note

I have a whole diner Au planned out

Danny owns a diary for the dead, the liminals, and other magical creatures

It started off as a way to feed weaker ghosts ectoplasm so they would be able to succeed being in the infinite realms and then after a while just turned into an actual diner to feed the people

Like demons ,fae, gods or goddesses they all go to Danny's restaurant

At Phantom's Dinner you can pay for your meal with physical money, diamonds, runestones, anything even including soul contracts that's how Danny ended up getting all of Constantine soul contracts

I want Constantine to find out in Justice League Dark growing up there to demand by Constantine's soul

After busting and every being there finds what they did very disrespectful so Justice League have to wait to get a table get seated at that table

Only server that's would like to actually serve them is Klarion and he wears a diner uniform that's always changing different colors in a pair of roller skates he's the only one that's willing to deal with the Justice League

And why he's doing so he's also got to bring with the regulars about like their humans and stuff like talking about the new Bruce Wayne rumor like they're all just gossiping with each other about the human world

After a while Dr Fate demands to see Danny and they find out that Danny is like the 17 year old boy who decided to open up a diner for the Dead, The Liminals, and The Undecided

I just find the idea of Danny owning a diner and then hiring Klarion and the rest of his friends to help him run the diner also the fact that he immediately as soon as he gets Constantine he sometimes asked him to be busboy when work service is really high and they need dishes clean

I hope you like my idea I love your Talia as Danny content so much

╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

I love Klarion working there. Sam probably works with sourcing ingredients. half of the Justice League probably thinks Danny is an Eldridge being with an undetermined age and the other half thinks he's a kid with good intentions.

I love the idea. Thank you :)

#dc x dp #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton #dc x dp crossover #klarion bleak #klarion the witch boy

350 notes · View notes

sneepseverus · 2 months

Text

This is a reupload of a one-shot I had on my old account. I’m hoping that by reuploading I’ll finally get the spark and inspiration I need for newer stuff :p I ended up making a lot of edits, though hehehe

Original Request: Snape teaching something to you and there's some sexual tension between you two (decide yourself if you want to turn it into a smut or not, I'm fine with both).

Warnings:

NSFW (MINORS DNI)

Hard dom!Snape x gender-neutral reader

Reader is NOT a student, but they role play

Use of the word “daddy”

Oral (M receiving) (like sucking dick and cock! Like oh my god…)

Word Count: 1.3k

"You know, I always thought you being a professor was so sexy," you commented after what felt like an eternity of silence in his office.

"I have to disagree with you there. It's definitely not a job to be romanticized," he replied, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he continued to glide his quill against the piece of parchment centered on his desk.

You started to think about how he must possess such a great ability to lead and command his classroom. "I bet you're so alluring when you teach."

"My students would strongly disagree," he simply remarked, eyes still fixed on his desk. "Half of those idiots barely pay attention, and then they wonder why they can never receive anything higher than a 'Poor' on their assignments."

"Wait! I have an idea!" you exclaimed with a bit of a mischievous smile.

"And what might that be?" he replied, a little bit annoyed as there were few things more important than what he was currently occupied with.

Although he had been teaching at Hogwarts for about fifteen years already, Snape was still nervous about the next day. It would be his first time teaching as the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, a position he had wanted for so long.

"You're planning for tomorrow's lesson anyway, right? Why don't you practice on me?" you suggested.

"Practice?"

“Yeah! Pretend you're in the classroom and...just say everything you were planning. Besides, it's been a while since I took the class, and our professor wasn't exactly the most fun. I'll probably end up learning something from you."

He finally stopped his writing and glanced at you. "Okay, well, I was going to begin teaching nonverbal spells tomorrow—"

"No, don't tell me; just do it," you said, motioning for him to start.

He slowly stood up and cleared his throat awkwardly. How silly it must be to pretend to be a professor when he already has to suffer through that every day, he thought. However, he eventually walked over in front of you and placed his hands behind his back, getting himself into character. "Before we begin, I must remind you that this is a N.E.W.T-level class. I am astonished that you all managed to achieve an O.W.L in this subject, but I would be less so if you found yourselves incapable of keeping up with the coursework," he began as he paced back and forth.

Wow. Of course, you knew how strict he was, but it was one thing to hear it from his colleagues and students and another to actually see it right before your eyes. After being together and knowing how gentle he was deep inside, it was like you were seeing a new side to him.

"The Dark Arts," he continued, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal…"

He went on and on with his introduction (which included something about the Cruciatus Curse and some type of kiss). You found it so difficult to focus with how mesmerizing, how attractive his voice was; no wonder students were never able to pay attention. You couldn't help but giggle at his scowling yet seductive expression.

"Do I make myself clear?" He stared at you with a piercing gaze as he waited for your response.

"Yes, Daddy—I mean, professor," you mumbled.

He crossed his arms in front of him and lifted an eyebrow suspiciously. "Well, it seems to me that something has distracted you, L/N. If you are finding yourself incapable of paying attention, then I will have to ask you to leave."

"I'm sorry," you said as you sat up straight. "I'm paying attention."

"Good. Now, I assume you have had no prior experience with nonverbal spells. Can you tell me what the advantage of a nonverbal spell is?"

Your eyes wandered all over his face, and you found yourself biting your lip.

"No? This is the second time you have distracted yourself. It seems that my warning was not enough to make you focus. I will now have to give you a more severe punishment for your misbehavior. Come over to my desk. Now," he demanded.

He sat down in his chair and turned to face you. "Get on your knees," he instructed. He leaned back and spread his legs. "You must do as I say. Understand?"

You nodded, excited about where this was going.

He pointed to his groin. "First, take them off."

You looked at him and proceeded to unbutton his trousers. You slowly slid them off, leaving his underwear over his hardness. "Seems like I wasn't the only one distracted," you commented smugly.

"I don't remember asking you to speak. You should have already removed my pants, too. Do I need to spell out every single little instruction for you? And wipe that smirk off your face."

"I'm sorry…sir" you muttered as you proceeded to grip the waistband of his underwear. His leaking, throbbing cock sprang out, ready for you to touch him, as you swiftly pulled them down to his ankles, licking your lips at the sight.

"I don't need you making any more of your snide comments, so use your mouth."

"What else would have I done?" you wanted to ask, but you kept your "snide comments" to yourself this time. You wrapped your hand around his firm length, slowly pumping up and down before swirling your tongue all around his tip. You closed your eyes blissfully, letting out a series of moans as you savored the taste of his pre-cum.

"Stop this teasing and shut up," he ordered. "And look at me."

You followed his command and sped up your pace this time, looking for any signs of approval in his deep, glittering eyes.

Once he was satisfied, he gripped his hands on the back of your head before bucking his hips towards you, forcing his cock deeper down your throat. Moans escaped his parted lips with each suck. He knew there was a chance others could hear him from outside his office, but right now, he was more concerned with disciplining you.

You cupped his balls with your free hand, fondling them while maintaining your rhythm. "Yes, just like that. Oh, you're doing so well," he let out between shaky breaths before letting his head fall back. "Don't even fucking think about stopping."

"Yes, professor," you thought. "Anything for you." You could feel your own arousal building up, but you ignored it to focus on pleasuring your professor and hear him praise you between groans. Oh, you so desperately wanted to pull away and tell him how much you loved the feeling of his long cock deep inside your mouth, but you had to maintain this perfect pace if you wanted to keep him content.

With the way his hips were moving, it was as if he was fucking your face. You made sure every inch of him was covered in your saliva, letting him know how "apologetic" you were for not paying attention to his little speech he must had spent time rehearsing. But if acting up meant that you got to have his legs spread widely for you in the middle of the day, of course, you'd do it again.

You could tell his orgasm was approaching with the way his body began squirming involuntarily. Neither of you had any intention of moving away from this current position. He yelled out a booming, "FUCK!" with his fingers digging deeply into your skin as cum shot into your throat.

Once you were certain you had milked every last drop of his seed, you removed yourself from his length, gasping for air. You licked your lips to get a good taste of any remaining droplets and waited patiently for his next instruction.

"I hope you weren't expecting to be done so soon," he stated. When he finally regained all his energy, he stood up and put his bottoms back on. "Go to my room and take your clothes off—all of them. I'll be there momentarily."

#lol @ my old writing #i changed some of the sentences #they seemed too abrupt #i hope you enjoy it!!#snape #snape smut #snape x reader #snape x y/n #snape x you #snape fanfiction #snape fanfic #severus snape #severus snape smut #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape fanfic

221 notes · View notes

ham1lton · 8 days

Text

summer came like cinnamon (so sweet)

pairing(s): logan sargeant x reader. oscar piastri x reader.

warnings: mentions of mental health, dieting, fractured friendships and constant mention of jim’s ice cream parlour. also different povs, it goes through the minds of all three of the main characters.

summary: after their rookie season, in a bid to repair their friendship, the two drivers decide to take their new paycheques and go explore the sun, sea and sands of greece. what they didn’t anticipate was to bump into you.

wordcount: 5.6k

author’s note: this is my first semi-interactive fic, please give it some love <3 any major issues in travelling and stuff like in terms of logistics? please ignore. also let me know who you’re planning on choosing. team oscar or team logan?

— wanna be updated on the next parts? join my taglist! —

— part one of the summer lovin’ series. —

[ i ain’t a kid no more / we’ll never be those kids again ]

logan didn’t know why he was so overwhelmed with anxiety, when he knocked on oscar’s door on that rainy thursday night.

this was his oscar, the oscar that had practically grown up with him. the one who knew how he liked his toast and that he was fond of a burger with all the extras. that he had a scar on his left ankle from when he was a kid and wrestled with his brother after watching too much wwe.

ever since he had signed to williams and oscar had been a mclaren driver, they had hardly talked in comparison to their pre-formula one days. when he had crashed out during a race, he half expected oscar to text him or come knocking on his hotel door.

he didn’t. logan pretended he wasn’t surprised.

fuck it. bite the bullet. he lifted his hand high and knocked on the door. three quick taps in succession.

“one moment!” oscar called from inside. logan would wait, even if that old lady from room 135 kept looking at him like he was an intruder. maybe he was. he hadn’t been in oscar’s room for a while.

oscar opened the door with messy hair and a shirt that had been clearly shoved on before he opened the door.

“logan? hi.” oscar swallowed. the awkwardness in the space between the two of them felt heavy. “you okay mate?”

“yeah! yeah.” logan fake laughed, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. “just wanted to come see you.”

“i’m here.” oscar grinned, with no teeth, at his own joke. “wanna come in?”

“sure. kinda awkward talking in the hallway anyways. that old lady is about five minutes from calling the cops on me.”

“oh that’s just brenda.” oscar said after leaning out and getting a glance at the woman, who waved at him. he waved back. “she’s harmless.”

logan followed oscar into his room. it was bigger than his and he didn’t know if feeling jealous was appropriate. he had felt many emotions when it came to oscar; happy, sad, angry, and others. he didn’t want jealousy to join the list.

“sorry, my room is a mess. i wasn’t expecting company.” oscar laughed with no heart behind it as he sat down on his unmade bed. “take a seat logan, you’re giving me anxiety just standing around.”

logan immediately sits down on the desk chair.

“so, what are your plans for the summer?”

“mine?” oscar thinks to himself. “probably just to go see my family and my friends back home.”

“i was thinking maybe we could, i don’t know.” logan bites his lip anxiously. “do something together?”

“like what?” oscar is curious now, his eyes focused.

“maybe go on that european holiday we always talked about? we have the money now and no parents to tell us no like last time.” logan speaks in a rush. “but obviously if you say no, dude that’s totally fine.”

logan looks at oscar, who’s actually considering it? he thinks to himself for a moment before turning to logan.

“how many days?”

“as long as you’d like.”

“where would we go?”

“anywhere you’d want.”

“make a decision, logan. i’ll say yes or no.”

“we always wanted to go to greece? how about there? maybe for three weeks?”

“we should go for a month. we can travel.”

wait. so that means? oscar’s face is still impassive. he doesn’t say yes or no, but he is still considering it. that’s a positive.

“that’s fine. i’m flexible.”

“i’ll plan it.” oscar nods.

“so is that a yes?”

“obviously.” oscar finally smiles, open and dazzling. logan grins too, allowing himself to bask in the approval. he was almost 67% sure that oscar would say no. he’d already done the maths, but it wasn’t his strongest subject anyways.

“i’ll text you the details.” oscar nods and logan gets up, running a hand through his hair. giddy with happiness that he’ll finally win his best friend back. this’ll be the trip that heals them. that heals him.

-❀-

oscar gets stressed when he’s not in charge. everything has to go through him. the plans, the schedule and especially the driving. he’s never liked being in the passenger seat. his hands get fidgety and he doesn’t know how to calm them down.

he’s lucky that logan is all too happy to sit in it, his eyes focused on making the perfect road trip playlist. for some reason, they’d decided to drive from london all the way down to munich.

they’d already driven down from london and through the eurotunnel and took a break sightseeing in france - which oscar had already scheduled for. they ate their weight in croissants. they ate steak and frites. logan had bought them matching ‘i ♥︎ paris’ t-shirts and oscar rolled his eyes but packed it neatly in his suitcase anyways.

they hadn’t talked about anything other than surface level topics. logan talking about his favourite sports teams, them both discussing the grid and plans for the upcoming season and the usual small talk about their family’s wellbeings.

they didn’t talk about how they ignored each other unless a camera necessitated a conversation. they didn’t talk about logan’s bad season. they stayed up till stupid hours watching badly dubbed french movies and ordering takeout.

they drove to germany, dropped off their rental car and then got a plane from munich to athens. it wasn’t very long at all but logan still curled up against the window and tried to sleep. they were both connected to the spotify account on logan’s phone - logan using his headphones and oscar with his airpods. their road trip playlist still playing.

oscar didn’t know why he didn’t take them out, even when the playlist inevitably repeated itself.

-❀-

they’d been in athens all of two days when they met you. logan had gone an insanely bright red when he’d forgotten his sunscreen had ran out. oscar laughed at first but then ran to the nearest pharmacy to grab emergency sunscreen and aloe vera for the both of them.

after slathering themselves, they’d decided to seek refuge in a small ice cream store. despite the hot weather, the store was almost completely empty besides the two of them and you. you were fiddling with your phone in the corner as you attempted to hook it up to the speakers.

“fuck’s sake!” you shout quietly, frustratingly trying to make it work. “i can’t do this shift without any music. my thoughts’ll drive me insane.”

“um?” oscar breaks the awkward silence. you jump and turn around. the first thing that they both notice is that you’re pretty. really pretty. even in the unflattering oversized neon green work t-shirt.

“sorry! sorry! i apologise. i didn’t think anyone was in the shop. please forgive me.” you look flustered as you move to quickly wash your hands and dry them. “what would you both like today?”

to be honest, logan hadn’t been thinking about the ice cream. oscar didn’t need to think, he was going to get his usual order.

“can i get two scoops of mint chocolate chip?”

“oh that’s disgusting. i forgot that you eat that.” logan shakes his head in shock.

“it’s good. you’re just a hater.” oscar rolls his eyes. “stick to your boring vanilla.”

“it’s a classic!” logan turns to you and asks for two scoops of vanilla and one scoop of mango. you smile and begin to start their orders.

“you guys aren’t from around here, are you?” you ask.

“nah. the accents give it away?” logan laughs as he slings an arm around oscar’s shoulder. oscar rolls his eyes again but makes no move to push him away.

“yeah. a little bit.” you pinch your fingers together as you say it. “i’m not really from here either.”

“no?” oscar replies this time, curious.

“international student. this was one of the few places that’d hire me with my insane schedule. i’m lucky i have the next month off, thankfully.”

“aren’t you going back home?”

“i could if i wasn’t scheduled to work here practically every day for the next month.” you finish logan’s order and move on to oscar’s. you shrug. “and i need the money. the job could be worse really, i just wish the speaker fucking worked and the air conditioning. luckily i stand close to the ice cream.”

“what do you study?”

“archaeology.”

“best place for that is probably here.”

“yes. i don’t know why but ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to come to greece and study here. this is the less glamorous side of it but i’m here doing what i love.”

“that’s all that matters right?” logan chimes in. you nod as you scan their orders into your till.

“that’ll be €7.62.” you say. “cash or card?”

“cash.” oscar says as he pulls out his wallet. he’s infinitely glad he’d prepared and went to the cash exchange in london before he’d left. logan doesn’t even bother to offer, he picks up his ice cream and starts to eat it.

oscar hands you the cash as logan moves to a booth right by the open door to take advantage of the breeze. you count back the change and place it right in his hand. his heart doubles a beat as your hands touch for a moment but the moment is broken as your phone suddenly decides that now is the time to work.

the speakers start blaring natasha bedingfield’s ‘pocketful of sunshine’. you curse, close the till with your hip and turn to fiddle with the playlist.

oscar thinks he’s a little in love.

-❀-

logan knows that oscar likes you, which is a problem because he likes you too.

this road trip was supposed to be about finding themselves, not finding you. yet, when they find themselves back in your ice cream store the next few days, it’s no coincidence.

“you’re back again! the american and australian.” on day four, you’re not alone this time. you have a colleague, a girl who’s slightly older than you. she smirks at the two of them like she knows a secret they don’t know. “i’m not the only international one here!”

the speakers seem to work normally today, playing elton john as you hum along with it. your colleague decides that it’s time to take her lunch break, slipping off her apron and leaving the three of you to it.

“same thing as every day? or are we changing it up?”

“what do you recommend?” logan asks earnestly. he’s not losing oscar to you, maybe if he charms you enough, you’ll pick him. he doubts you will.

“everything is good here but if you really want my opinion? the chocolate fudge is a real crowd pleaser.”

“i’ll take two scoops of that and oscar’ll just have mint chocolate.” logan pulls out his wallet, opens it to find a mix of euros in there. he takes a moment to pick at the right change when you shake your head at him.

“no, it’s fine. it’s on the house today. i’m in a good mood.”

“why?”

“a lot of reasons. you know what? i forgot that i didn’t even introduce myself. i’m y/n.”

“we know.” oscar is amused.

“how? are you psychic? i used to know a psychic once and i also watched that’s so raven. great show.”

“your name badge.” logan nods at your shirt as he eats a spoonful of ice cream. you were right, it’s amazing. not too sickly but just the right amount of chocolate.

“oh.” you bite your lip in embarrassment as oscar takes his ice cream.

“i’m oscar and the american is logan.” logan smiles and waves his free hand at you. “is the shop always this empty?”

“no. it’s really busy after school and at peak times. you just always come quite early. lucky. it’s hell in here when it’s busy.” you seem relieved for the topic change. “you both here on holiday?”

“yeah. a break from our jobs.”

“lucky. my best friend is back home and i wish she was with me. she’s planning on coming up at some point thankfully. i hate being here without all my friends.”

“i can be your friend.” logan says. then he immediately regrets it. what if you think that he’s a weirdo? but when your face lights up, he realises that regret was a fleeting feeling.

“i’d love that. let me take your number. one of the guys from my class is hosting a beach party tonight if you both wanna come.”

logan looks at oscar who shrugs as if to say ‘i don’t mind if you don’t’. logan turns back to you, who is the middle of unlocking your phone and grins.

“we’ll be there.”

he types his number in your phone and sends a message to himself to save yours.

“i’ll text you the details.”

the speaker interrupts the moment that you have as it starts to malfunction. you curse again and throw your hands up in annoyance.

“stupid fucking speaker! so stupid!”

-❀-

the party is already well underway, when oscar and logan arrive. logan didn’t bother with buttoning up his shirt. he wasn’t necessarily the most confident man in the world but he was comfortable with his nakedness in a way that oscar didn’t think he’d ever be. oscar was in a undershirt with a loose overshirt.

you finally make your way over to them, panting slightly. you’re wearing a plain white bikini with an open oversized orange and yellow patterned hawaiian shirt. your hair is free from the bun they’ve seen you in work with. you smile, easy and happy.

“my two favourite customers!” you sling an arm around the two of them, hugging them so close that they can smell your perfume. “come on, let me introduce you to the five other people i know.”

you lead them down to the bonfire, where three girls and two other guys are crowded around. they cheer when you arrive with the two of them.

“guys, this is oscar and logan.” they wave politely. “oscar and logan, this is anya, jerome, alex, sienna and jaya.”

the group all cheer and welcome the two guys. it’s clear that everyone is already buzzed. oscar has never really been a big drinker so he declines a beer when offered. logan shotguns it, the residue dripping down his face. you laugh and attempt to wipe it off his face. logan goes lax in your touch and oscar can’t watch anymore.

the speaker that someone played is playing shakira as the two of you giggle in your own little world. oscar turns to jerome? or was it alex? and starts a conversation. talking about some footy game that they were watching earlier. oscar is about as into football as the next guy, but he really needs to focus on something else besides the two of you.

oscar knew that logan had always harboured some sort of inferiority complex when it came to the two of them, but logan had something that oscar doesn’t think he’d ever have - being genuinely likeable.

oscar knew he’d have to win because no one would support him as a loser. logan is just likeable regardless of what position he’s in - an underdog if he loses and a force of nature when he wins.

likeable gets the girl.

-❀-

you decide to walk the two of them to the end of the beach. the night is inky black and the only light is the remnants of the bonfire you’d lit earlier. logan is buzzed, oscar is distant and you’re still vibrating from the fact that logan made the two of you run into the cold water with him in the middle of the night.

“tonight was fun! i’m glad you were both able to make it!” you lean in and hug them both goodbye. logan swears you’d lingered a little longer while hugging him. “i’ll see you both at jim’s ice cream?”

“what is that?” logan asks bluntly. oscar elbows him lightly, not hard enough to cause damage but just enough to wind him slightly.

“the ice cream parlour she works at dumbass.” he turns to you. “we’ll see you there”

“well, i do work there. so yeah.” you laugh. all twinkly and bright. then you’re waving and jogging back to your friends. oscar watches logan look at you and sighs.

“come on man, let’s get you back.”

-❀-

logan wakes up with a hangover the next morning. oscar is a good friend and runs to the continental free breakfast and sneaks him out some waffles, croissants and eggs. he walks to the pharmacy again, paying for some ibuprofen (at least he hopes that’s what it is) with his cash and runs to the corner store to grab some extra snacks.

logan’s eyes are wide with both joy and disbelief. joy that something is there for his splitting headache and disbelief that oscar would do that for him. oscar feels a little ball of guilt unravelling inside. how bad had he let their friendship become?

they spend the day inside for the most part. watching television together. then they go outside to the pool, logan immediately jumps in but oscar sits on the side. he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the texts that he’s been ignoring. the ones from some friends, his mum, and you?

it’s not a coincidence right? that you spent the whole evening with logan and text him the next day?

he holds the phone close to his chest. he doesn’t want logan seeing this. he doesn’t know why that is. he quickly texts you back. then logan shouts.

“hey oscar! come in! the water is gorgeous.”

oscar grins and slips into the water, keeping his shirt on.

-❀-

the two of them end up at the steak restaurant together that night. they’re both dressed as nicely as possible. oscar in a nice sweater and logan in a dress shirt. the maître d’ smiled knowingly at the two of them and led them to their table.

“he thinks we’re together.” oscar whispers to logan.

“are we not?”

“we are in the literal sense. i meant in the romantic, relationship sort of sense.” logan laughs and bats his eyelashes all coy.

“oh no! oscar are you breaking up with me?”

“obviously. i’m leaving you for my secretary.” oscar’s deadpan voice just makes logan laugh harder.

“i knew it, that skank! i’ll get him fired.” oscar laughs too, breaking out into an easy smile that comes easily when logan’s around.

the sounds of the restaurant move around the two of them as they peruse the menu for a long time. it’s been a while with no conversation when oscar bites the bullet and brings it up.

“hey.” logan looks up. “i’m sorry.”

“for the secretary? don’t be. i’m running away with the pool boy.” oscar shakes his head, smiling.

“no.” oscar says. “for what happened. letting our friendship fall to the sidelines. i didn’t mean it but it didn’t excuse it. i really do like being your friend logan. i wouldn’t jeopardise that.”

logan is silent. oscar wonders if he’s crossed some unspoken line. he bites the inside of his cheek and looks at the wall of the restaurant’s decor. it’s all dark in here. would it kill them to buy some light bulbs? he understands its for ‘ambiance’ and that shit but he’s worried that he won’t be able to find his steak in the darkness.

“i was gonna say i was sorry. i thought it was my fault. that you didn’t want to be friends with,” he cuts himself off, laughing awkwardly. “a loser.”

“no. that wasn’t it. you’re not a loser, not to me.”

“i am. that’s a fact. it’s okay. you’re very nice for that but, it’s just not true.” logan swallows thickly. “now, should i get potatoes or fries as my sides?”

oscar doesn’t comment on logan’s facial expression, that he looks like he’s holding it together by a thread. he knew emotional vulnerability took a lot out of him but it was harder on the person who admitted failure.

“potatoes.” logan grins and nods before calling over the waiter.

-❀-

the next time you saw the two guys was two days after the bonfire party. they came in laughing at a joke that had happened way before they had even walked in. you find yourself standing up as soon as they enter.

“hi! y/n!” logan’s smile is always wide and happy to see you. oscar’s smile is muted but it’s still sweet. “what would you recommend for me? i liked the chocolate fudge.”

“hmm,” you think, running your hand along the counter. “we have a new flavour, chocolate covered raspberry? it’s quite popular. i think you’d like it.”

“i trust your judgement, ice cream girl.”

you crack a smile at the nickname, the smile so big that it momentarily hurts your face for a moment. you turn to oscar.

“and what about you?”

“same as usual, two scoops of vanilla.”

you nod, getting to work on the ice creams. you even offer to pay for them but they argue, threatening to shove it all in the tip jar anyway. oscar pays and when your back is turned, logan shoves twice the amount into the tip jar.

“wanna sit with us in the booth today y/n?” logan asks, taking a spoonful of his ice cream. “it’s not like anyones here.”

oscar looks up at you with his wide eyes, not really eating his ice cream. he just swirls it, until it turns into a sort of thick soup. you shrug and slide into the booth across from the two of them. you don’t have anything else to do and if a customer does decide to walk in? well, you’ll just slide back behind the counter.

“so, what’s your plan for the future?” logan grins. “and i know it’s the worst possible question to ask any young person but i’m curious. what’s the goal? is there one? it’s okay if there isn’t.”

“dream is to become an archeologist and backup plan? i don’t know. work in an office or something? maybe teaching. i haven’t thought that far ahead just yet.” you bite your lip and look out the window for a second. the day is hot, and you’re stuck inside. “what about you two? what do you do?”

“we uh, we drive.” logan looks at oscar.

“oh like uber? cool.”

“yeah, isn’t it?” oscar smiles at you.

“i still haven’t gotten my licence just yet. taxis aren’t too expensive and public transport is decent. also everywhere i need to be is pretty much walkable.” you smile at them. “have you visited all the touristy places yet?”

“not everywhere but we’re here for a while. we’re going to travel to santorini, mykonos and corfu. i’ve already planned them out.” oscar swallows his bite of ice cream. “scheduled to the exact moment we get there and get back.”

“an exotic european vacation.” you grin, waggling your eyebrows. logan laughs despite the joke not being very funny. “i’m jealous.”

“you could come with us.” oscar blurts out, his cheeks pinkening. “you’re probably busy though right? don’t worry about it. it’s weird.”

“no, no. it’s not. it’s very sweet and tempting.” you look outside the window again. “i’m not free for the whole time, but, definitely i could join you for a week? jim won’t care.”

“jim’s a real person?” logan asks, eyes wide. you laugh.

“yeah! he’s british actually. came over here when he retired and bought this place. he was one of the few people that’d hire me. my mum’s british.” you nod. “it’s a pretty decent job. if you ignore these hideous uniforms.”

you pull on the neon jim’s ice cream parlour shirt, face crumpling in disgust.

“you look good.” logan says, shyly, as he tongues the last of his ice cream. “this is good too. the ice cream. i knew i trusted you for a reason.”

-❀-

santorini is exactly like the instagram photos. well, despite being slightly too hot, a little less vibrant and he’s here with you and logan. logan has kept his shirt on this time, a loose linen blue one with a pair of shorts and flip flops. you’re dressed in a white skirt, a cropped tank top with a massive handbag.

oscar wants to do something crazy, like reach out and hold your hand or put his arm around your shoulders. he doesn’t because he’s not insane but he thinks about it for a solid moment. thinks about the way you’d curl into him or the way your shampoo would smell. he shakes his head.

“you don’t like it?” the two of you turn to look at him. fantastic. now he looks weird. his eyes widen.

“no, no! i love it. it’s lovely.” he reaches into his pocket, shaking hands grabbing his phone as he takes a picture. “i was thinking about the best angle to take this picture for my mum.”

“i’ll take a photo of you against the backdrop? maybe the both of you. your mum might like that. logan said you two were childhood best friends right?”

oscar nods. at least you bought his story. he stands against the barrier and smiles, awkwardly. he’s sure that all the other tourists are looking at him and thinking ‘what a weirdo, his crush on her is so obvious. she wants his best friend clearly, why even try?’

after a moment, logan stands next to him. logan dissipates the awkwardness with a wave of his hand and the two of them fall into an easy grin. when logan leans in and tells a joke, oscar finds himself laughing loudly with the click of your camera as background noise.

he sends it to his mother later on, when he’s in his hotel room with logan snoring in the room across from him. she texts him back quickly.

-❀-

— from mum.

well, it looks like you’re having fun honey!

— to mum.

yeah, i am.

-❀-

it doesn’t even feel like a lie when he messages her back in the cooling heat.

-❀-

it’s three days into the trip and two weeks into knowing the guys that you realise that you have a crush. it’s only a small inkling but you know it’s serious because no matter how much you try to dissuade it, it keeps popping up.

when you’re eating, when you’re brushing your teeth and even when you’re picking your outfit with him in mind. does he like blue? is he more of a yellow guy? or is it pink that’ll catch his eye?

the three of you head to a restaurant that night. it’s a seafood place, the three of you laughing and joking about something you’d seen earlier. they look good. smell good too. they even argue over who’s going to pay for the meal and look at you like you’ve got three heads when you offer to pay.

“it’s fine y/n, you’re a student.” oscar says, smiling as logan gives up. he pays quickly, all cash with no fuss. “we can get it.”

“ubering must make you a lot of money.”

“yeah. something like that.” he smiles again. this time with no teeth as he gets the receipt.

-❀-

logan goes to bed early that night, citing something about his family being desperate to check up on him. it leaves just the two of you outside in the corfu evening air.

“want to go for a walk?” you ask, looking at him earnestly.

“yeah. sure.” he’s trying not to be too eager. not to scare you off. the two of you start walking down the street.

“i always like to go for a slow walk after a big dinner. i feel like it probably helps with digestion.” you speak quietly, as if not to disturb the silence of the street. he likes your voice and is willing to listen at any volume you decide.

“i think it does. i try not to eat too much.” oscar responds, shoving a jittery hand in his pocket. “i can’t gain any weight for my job.”

“yeah, logan said. that’s weird. what kind of uber driver has a weight limit?” he shrugs and smiles. “do you miss australia?”

“sometimes. i’m used to travelling though. i’ve done it for so long.” he looks at you. “what about you? do you miss your home?”

“eh, i wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. i wanted to remake myself. i was gonna do it all y’know? a name change and everything.” you look up at the stars for a moment. “i didn’t go through with it. even if i changed my name, i’d still be y/n really. inside.”

“i get that. i think.” oscar looks at the gorgeous landscape in front of him. he ignores all the people milling around the two of you. to him it’s just you, him and the view. “so, y/n-“

your phone interrupts him. a loud, obnoxious ringing noise. you mouth an apology at him when you look at the caller id.

“sorry, it’s my best friend. she wouldn’t call me if it wasn’t important. she’s more of a texter anyways. do you mind?” you point at your phone. he shakes his head with a smile. you disappear to take your call and he finds a bench to sit on. he leans back, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

what was he thinking? asking you out? thank god the world or fate or god or whoever is in charge, stopped him before he made the biggest mistake of his life. you liked logan and he didn’t blame you. he really, truly didn’t.

when you come back, you ask him what he was going to ask. he shrugs. it wasn’t important anyways, he says. he asks what happened with your friend and listens you chatter all the way back about your friend’s current work drama.

-❀-

the next morning, logan and you head down to breakfast together. it’s a continental breakfast that the hotel offer. it’s good, with a wide spread of toast, pancakes, omelettes, cereal, fruit and sausages. you load up your plate, happy to get food for free even though technically you paid for it.

logan’s plate is smaller. you think about what they said earlier about weight limits and feel a pang of sympathy. i mean, your job was not very well paid but at least it gave you freedom in your spare time to do and eat whatever you want.

“is oscar not coming?” you ask, forking a fluffy piece of omelette and hash browns in your mouth. it’s gorgeous and you’re hungry.

“nah. he’s not feeling too good. i’ll bring him some breakfast in a bit.” logan methodically goes through his breakfast. slow, small bites and chews it for as long as possible. “wanna go for a swim later? it’s hot as hell outside. i feel my skin melting off.”

“you are going a little red.” you tease. he smiles again, shyly. his face does go red when you lean forward and press your cold cup against his cheek. “a little better?”

“it’d be better if you’d go swimming with me.” he smiles.

“of course i will. can’t leave you by yourself. who knows what’ll happen.” he laughs this time. “now wanna try some of this omelette?”

he sits politely as you lean over and feed him a forkful of the spinach and cheese omelette. for a moment, the two of you look into each other's eyes as you feed him. he turns away as soon as it’s okay and chews the bite.

“good?”

“yeah. yeah. it’s good.” he smiles at you. “let me just get some more water for us, be back in a moment.”

“is it getting too hot for you?” you tease.

“a little.” he sheepishly grins again. “let me cool down.”

-❀-

it’s your last day with the two of the guys before they drop you back off at the bus stop to go back to athens. your heart is still pinching at the thought of leaving, but you decide your last day can’t be in vain. they’ll be going home soon so it’ll be the best time to admit what you already knew. what you had known for the whole time.

you’d been on the phone with your best friend who had helped you to write a pros and cons list.

— pros - you could be a girlfriend to a great guy. you would be happy. you would have a rich boyfriend (your bff added that). you could touch them in any way they’d let you. you could sleep together. you could also sleep together (bff again). you would have a great time. you would have fun. would it improve your life? potentially.

— cons - they could say no and you’d have to jump off a cliff. they could be dating each other and you’d be embarrassed that you didn’t figure it out. they could laugh at you. they could be disgusted. they could be nice about it and gently let you down. they’re not even from anywhere close to greece. it’d be a long distance relationship. could you even deal with that?

you shake your head and lift your hand up to his bedroom door. the wood is cold under your knuckles. the world still moves around you, tourists laughing in their rooms and people walking around. their voices murmuring.

as your hand hovered there, you thought for a moment. about how this could change everything. was it too soon? too risky? then you remembered, it’s now or never.

take the plunge and with that, you knock.

liked by anyaaaa, alexjohnson and 183 others.

yourusername: this summer is going well. made two new friends, spent half of my savings and made some new memories and isn’t that what life is all about?

anyaaaa: when are you coming back? miss u girl!!

-> yourusername: soon! i just need to figure something out first.

-> anyaaaa: you’ll figure it out. you always do. can’t wait till you come back <33

taglist: @decafmickey @nichmeddar @casperlikej @purplephantomwolf @cuteskz @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @alexmarie29 @luckyladycreator2 @23victoria @molten-m122 @evie-119 (want to be removed? or wondering why you weren’t tagged? check your tag settings or send me an ask!)

289 notes · View notes