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shootingmorningstar · 2 months

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Hiii!!! Would it be ok to request hcs of Lucifer, Husk, Vox with an affectionate s/o please?

Absolutely it is .ᐟ.ᐟ When the gender of the reader isn't specified in a request I default to gn, but if that's not what you were looking for, let me know .ᐟ

LUCIFER, HUSK AND VOX

WITH AN AFFECTIONATE READER.

LUCIFER.

He adores it. Absolutely adores you and every single sweet thing you say to him, every touch you give him. However it may be you usually show you affections, put him on the receiving end and he is absolutely melting. He is so, so sweet to the people he loves. Seriously.

Reach out to take his hand while the two of you are out on a date .ᐣ He is swooning -- especially if you're so excited to be spending time with him you swing your hands together.

The first time you gave him a gift simply because it reminded you of him, he really and truly almost teared up. He is the King of Hell -- he could have anything and everything he ever wanted, but most days it feels like he has nothing.

Nothing that really matters, anyway. What's the point of all the power he wields if he can't use it to be happy .ᐣ Of course, Charlie makes him so, so happy, but even after the pair reconcile, Charlie is a grown woman. She has a happy relationship, wonderful friends and perhaps most of all, she has a cause.

She doesn't have all the time in the world to spend cheering up her lonely father. Living in the Hotel helps, but as soon as she leaves, he finds that empty feeling crawling right back up his spine.

That's exactly where you come in -- a rare blessing in his long, long life. His wonderful partner who came home with a gift wrapped especially for him .ᐣ

The gift has him weak in the knees. It doesn't even matter what's in the box, the fact that you love him enough to think of him even when he's not around means more than you could ever know.

All of your gestures are priceless to him. They're one of the things he loves about you the most.

He goes out of his way to return the thought and care every single time. Please let him spoil you. Let him feel like he's finally using all of that power and money for a good cause because to him .ᐣ There is no better cause. Your smile when he gives you an outfit you'd had your eye on and takes you out to your favorite place to eat is all the thanks he'd ever need.

Your affection has been one of the driving forces that gets him to realize the good in his people he'd been too ignorant to look for was right in front of him all along. If someone as wonderful as you can wind up in Hell, perhaps he's judged his realm too harshly.

You could never, ever be too affectionate to Lucifer and he wants you to know it. Be unapologetically yourself, that's when he loves you best. Never feel like you're smothering him with your love. Your kindness is putting the King back together piece by piece.

HUSK.

Similarly to Lucifer, Husk is a character that could really use your affection. He may not be quite as outwardly sappy about it as the King, but that doesn't make him any less appreciative.

Someone sweet and loving makes for a really good partner for Husk, actually, and on a deeper reason than just the timeless grumpy and sunshine dynamic duo. Someone like you would do good to help bring him out of his shell, bring a little light to his life.

Words of affirmation and acts of service hit him particularly hard. Hearing that he matters from his partner and that he's worth something even now would do wonders for his psyche, as would a simple meaningful gesture, even something as small as cleaning the glasses behind the bar for him. Anything to make his work load just a little bit easier.

Overhearing you tell another resident of the Hotel just how much you adore him may just stop him in his tracks. Not only are you incredibly affectionate to him, you're sharing your love for him with others .ᐣ You care about him that much .ᐣ He's whistling behind the bar counter for the rest of the day and nobody can figure out why Husk of all people is in such good spirits.

One of his favorite things about you is the way you comb through his fur. You're so gentle in the way you touch him for no other reason than not wanting to hurt somebody you love. You work through each snag caught on the brush slowly so as to not hurt him and he is so, so grateful.

Ask him to look up something for you and he's surprised to see his own face staring back at him as your lockscreen. Even moreso when he unlocks your phone and finds the homescreen a picture of the pair of you. Even when you're not meaning to, you're still finding a way to knock the air out of his lungs.

Right before leaving the Hotel for the day you like to stock him up with his favorite snacks behind the bar, something non alcoholic to drink and painkillers if he takes it a little too heavy on the booze.

Husk has a lot harder of a time being so outward with his affections and so replicating it is a little difficult for him, but he will never let you think he doesn't appreciate what you do for him. Just be patient with him.

He will, however, always let you know that your emotions are safe with him, that he will never judge you or your love languages and that the two of you have each other no matter what.

VOX.

To be completely honest .ᐣ I think Vox is a little baffled. How he found himself in a genuine relationship in the first place is still beyond him -- and with someone so loving, at that. Despite the image he tries to sell on social media & television, it's not too hard to figure out that he really isn't that good of a person.

You both are in Hell and most sinners fall for good reason, so despite the fact that making the assumption that a powerful sinner soul being corrupted is easy to make, the large majorities of Hell probably just doesn't have it in them to care.

You're different, though -- you're a shining example of the fact that not all sinners are innately evil, or just too far gone. From the moment Vox had met you, he had seen that you were good.

Why in Hell had you taken a liking to him .ᐣ He's not upset about it per se, just confused. Initially a little frustrated at best. Before you came along, he thought he'd be content, no, happy with the way his life was for eternity.

What didn't he have .ᐣ He had power, he had money, he had allies. What else could he possibly need .ᐣ Relationships were not for him. The strange fling he had going on with Valentino was romance aplenty for him.

That is, of course, until you came along. You had been interested in him from the very start, and you weren't afraid to show it. At first, he saw you as just another sinner to manipulate.

Apparently being kind and loving doesn't equate to a pushover . . . . .ᐣ News to him.

You asked him on a date and were nothing short of wonderful during it, listening to what he had to say with great interest -- but at the same time, you refused to let him speak over you or order you around.

His curiosity is what made him call you back for a second date. And a third, and a fourth.

He's absolutely loathe to admit it, but by the fifth date that excuse grows worn. He's not just curious about you, he's grown used to your presence. Even sort of misses you when you go. How annoying.

Maybe it's refreshing to have someone support him without secondhand motives, or maybe it's an error .ᐣ He usually can't stand being disrespected. Either way, he grows used to having you around, having your support and love.

He will NEVER bring you to the Vee's meetings. Not after he's come to consider you his. He doesn't want to risk Velvette's cocky attitude being contagious and he will absolutely never leave you around Val. He doesn't mind Val being .... the way he is, but to you.ᐣ Absofuckinglutely not.

Having a partner is seeming to do wonderful things for his image, and he comes to love you in his own very Vox-y way, so continue on with your doting and affections. Keep memorizing his favorite drinks and especially don't stop fixing his bowtie and kissing his cheek before he leaves for work.

Congratulations, you've fixed him . . . .ᐣ Kinda sorta .ᐣ Pet trained .ᐣ Who knows. But you're happy and he's happy, and that's all that matters.

I hope these were to your satisfaction .ᐟ I have a hard time imagining any sort of relationship with Vox as being overly healthy because we all saw the kind of person he is. With that in mind, I tried to do my best for a workaround to keep it in line with both the prompt and his character.

Let me know how I did .ᐣ Hearing back from you guys keeps me motivated to write, as always ~ .ᐟ

#hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #husk x reader #husker x reader #husker #vox #vox x reader #hazbin vox #admin kitty

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whore-ibly-hot · 11 months

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Yan!Cage-Fighter x Fem!Reader

'Paying bills ain't easy'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Toxic behavior, traditionally masculine roles, power dynamics, violence, murder, jealousy, subpar spanish, cursing, mentions of sex, description of unsafe neighborhoods.

(AN: I know I said I was working on the part two for the fae fic, and a fashion designer piece, but the idea for this guy hit me like a train. Apologies for any Spanish mistakes, I'm coming along in my learning!)

The sound of raucous cheering rings out throughout the crowd of the 'Dog Pit' Den, Harlem's most prolific underground fighting spot. Fighters from all over the city come here to try and earn a living wage. Backbreaking, degrading work, boxing, kicking, and spitting in the no-rules ring. A crack, a cheer, and the sound of a collapsing body, before the announcer yells that Matias Lopez has taken yet another challenger down. A sweaty, tanned man hops back and forth on his feet, arms raised in the air as he celebrates his victory.

"Ladies and gentleman, Matias 'The Mayhem' has taken down yet another challenger! You know what that means! Make some noise!" The announcer yells, and the room shakes with boos and cheers, the stomping of feet making the ground tremble. "Matias Lopez has won the 500 dollar Rookie Fighters Championship prize!" Another round of yells, and Matias spits on the ground. He makes his way out of the cage, kissing the rosary his mother always makes him wear, even when he's cracking skulls in an illegal cage-fighting circuit. To be fair, she doesn't know. He sighs, tearing his fist-wrappings off and running a hand through his sweaty locks. He changes out of his outfit, switching into a casual gray hoodie, a pair of sweats, and some slides. After reapplying deodorant, he hears someone outside. One of the guys who runs the 'Dog Pit' has come to give him his check.

"Yo, Matias, my man!" He greets, slapping a hand on Matias's toned shoulder. "Me and some of the 'execs' as we've taken to calling ourselves are gonna hit the club', you in?" Mattias, clicks his tongue, and shakes his head. "Nah man, not tonight. I gotta get home n' see my girl. I was supposed to be home earlier." He glances down at the floor. "Shit, alright man, here's your check. I'll see you later." Mattias nods as the man heads out, stuffing the check into his duffle bag, before sliding out the alley exit.

Matias and you have been dating for a little over a year now. Both of you met in a pretty rough part of town, he was working a day-job at a gas station, and you were a cafe worker. He'd come in occasionally, claiming that the gas station coffee just wasn't up to his standards. He scared you, at first. Mattias has a very tough exterior, tattoos and muscles, but an even tougher interior. He was kind of stoic when you first met, and you couldn't quite get a read on him. He wasn't outwardly flirty or affectionate, which is why it took six weeks of him stopping by the coffee shop for him to pull you aside and ask what he was doing wrong, and why you weren't picking up on his advances. You had explained, and shortly after that you began dating. It was only a month or so into dating when you had learned of his cage-fighting career, but he assured you that he was tough, and no guy was gonna hurt him. You both needed the money on the side, so you reluctantly agree. That's what leads up to where you are now, passed out on your couch, waiting for him to come home.

He heads towards your shared apartment as quickly as he can, taking the subway about 8 blocks east, before running up the fire escape to the flat's balcony. He knows you deadbolted the door any time past 8:00, and doesn't blame you. It's kind of a dangerous neighborhood, and he feels bad enough leaving his girl home alone as much as he does.

"Pobre mami, espero que no me haya esperado." (Poor mami, hope she didn't wait up for me.) He pulls up the window, making sure to slip in quietly, in case you had already gone to sleep. As he places one foot on the floor, the wood barely creaks beneath him, when he hears a soft groan coming from the couch.

"Matty?" You mumble, sitting up from the plush couch and rubbing your eyes, trying to make out his large silhouette. He sighs, tossing his bag to the side as he stretches "Hey, hermosa, did I wake you up?" He asks, looking at you with his usual hooded gaze. "I guess, I don't think I was asleep that long..." You run a hand through your hair. "How'd it go?" He smiles softly, chuckling. "You know me, baby, I don't lose." He sits on the arm of the couch. "Gotchu' five hundred dollars, gonna' get you something real pretty with it." You sigh, and shake your head. "You've got me plenty of gifts, what we should be doing is saving up for somewhere else to live." You explain. He shrugs. "Yeah, you right, you right. That's my bad." He puts his hands up in surrender. "Well, if you aren't gonna let me get you somethin' pretty, you outta lemme' take ya to bed." Before you can react, he scoops you up in his arms, causing you to squeak.

"Don't scare me like that, God!" You smack his chest, but your hand only bounces off his firm pecs. e chuckles. "Gonna' have to hit harder than that, mami." He flicks off the living room light as he carries you to your shared bed. He lays you down, gently this time as opposed to the times he throws you on the bed, usually to pin you down and tickle you, saying things like '¿Qué pasa, bonita? Solo empújame, no es tan difícil...' (What's wrong, Pretty? Just push me off, it's not that hard...). Sometimes though, his manhandling isn't that innocent. As you snuggle down into the bed, Matias strips off his hoodie, and you blush at the way the light coming in through the blinds hits his chest. He lets out a soft groan, as the plush mattress and soft bed sheets soothe his sore body. Matias bites his lips as his eyes trace over your sleepy form, and he rolls over onto his side, tucking an arm around your waist.

"Mmm, no Matias... m' too tired tonight." You whisper, your face scrunching up. Matias was never a very soft guy. Playful and devilish, sure, but soft? No. His hands were calloused from years of bruising skin and bloodying faces, working and scrounging every penny he can get to get a better life for himself. Deep down, he couldn't imagine placing these damaged, dangerous hands on something as soft and sweet as you. He could snap you in half if he desired, and the thought terrifies him.

"What, no baby... I'm not tryna' smash at-" He looks over at the clock. "Shit, 1:00 am already? Jesus Christo..." He turns back to you. "Just wanna hold you, mami." He presses his long torso up against the curve of your back, pressing his face into your curls and inhaling your scent. "You feeling okay?" You ask. He knows he doesn't. He knows he should have been home for you sooner, and it didn't help that he had to make a stop on the way back home.

He feels a sense of dread in his stomach. You won't ever know about the stop he made, you were asleep. Besides, he comes home late all the time. What you will learn about is your bloodied new co-worker being found with his skull smashed in, just a few blocks from the cafe. Due to the graphic scene he left behind, it's sure to be on the morning news. Matias hadn't expected your new friend to be working the late shift, but he was still on an adrenaline high from the fight, and god... he couldn't stand the idea of that bitch getting to spend more time with you than him. He wants to be home for you more, he does, but he can't. Still, that doesn't mean he's going to let any other guy fill that void. Hell no.

"I'm fine, Hermosa. Just sore from the fight, wanna' hold my baby." He whispers, placing a chapped kiss on the shell of your ear, making you flinch. "That tickles..." You giggle. He smiles, and squeezes you gently. "C'mon, stop being silly. Necesitas descansar, especialmente después de quedarte despierto para mí." (You need to sleep, especially after staying up for me.) He scolds. You roll over to face him, and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "Love you, Matty." You sleepily coo, before drifting off in his arms. He freezes, his breath labored for a minute as he looks down at you. Even now, after dating for so long, he can't process the softness of you juxtaposed with the beatings he both takes and gives every other weeknight. It's a transition he sometimes struggles to handle. He feels a smile creep onto his face, and he curls your small form into him, practically cradling you against his broad chest. God, he'll take on an extra five challengers next time, all for you.

"Gonna get you a penthouse baby, real nice neighborhood too. Somewhere safe, somewhere that makes me feel better about leavin' you all alone..." He whispers, knowing you can't really hear him. "Better not have anyone but me over, no fucker's from work, aight'? I'll kick the shit out of any of em' just for you..."

#yandere #yandere fanfiction #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #x reader #yandere content #yandere oc #reader insert #yandere boy #yancore #tw.violence #tw.fighting #yandere boxer #yandere cage fighter #oc x reader #oc Matias #tw.jealousy

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cordeliawhohung · 5 months

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WAIT ✋ YOU SAY THAT SHy!READER IS A WAITRESS? Well i just KNOW simon books a table in a dark corner in that very restaurant you work at for one person (himself) and he sits there for your whole shift sipping on some whiskey and watching you as you run around working and making sure his girl is safe <333

i was actually thinking more of a hostess! so like, someone who greets guests and manages the seating chart for the wait staff, maybe manages take out orders, etc. i think shy!reader would have a much better time with that than having to actually serve and talk and sort of entertain customers lmao.

but!!! doesn't mean he still doesn't keep an eye on you <3 he's sipping on his whiskey, maybe orders some appetizers (and tries to sneak some to you even though you told him that you get free food during your shift!). at first your shift manager was a bit annoyed. "you've got this guy hanging around you like a dog." but then when someone got up in your face over some miscommunication about reservations, and they weren't listening to your manager when she told them to get out or she'd call the cops, Simon took care of them, and ever since she's never once complained about him lurking around lmao.

also! imagine how the waitstaff would fight over who gets to serve him. Simon is very much aware he's being a little over bearing, but he's always so kind to the waitstaff and he tips BIG (because while he loves fucking with the upper class pricks, he has a soft spot for anyone in the working class) and they want that money lmao. you have to seat him in different areas every time he shows up otherwise you'll get complaints. <3

he keeps telling you that you need to quit your job at the restaurant and work as a bartender at John's club. (he just wants to see you flustered in a skimpy outfit lmao) think of the tips! and he'd be right there to watch over you <3 you tell him you'd rather stub your toe than work in a place as busy and scary as that so, alas, Simon is stuck helplessly watching you as he nurses a glass of whiskey in the back of your big chain restaurant ):

#core responds #mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

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goobyngreedy · 1 month

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Introducing my Hazbin Hotel Au where Angel Dust is an overlord! The main differences mostly have to do with these 4 so I did a little drawing to show their respective character changes!

1.) the first and biggest difference is that Angel Dust is an overlord, and the vees arent. Angel Dust still made a deal with Valentino, but when he became friends with Charlie, she told her dad all about Valentino and he "disposed" of him. It wasn't hard for Angel to gain power after that using the skills he learned in the mafia.

2.) Eventually without all their additional income and power they had from Val; Velvette and Vox soon make deals to keep some sort of power, and that just so happens to be Angel they made a deal with. Vox outsmarted Angel a bit by making him think he was getting a better deal only owning his soul half the time.

3.) Husk also ended up making a deal with Angel rather than Alastor (which Angel actually won by cheating the whole time)

4.) Angel owns a club in place of the Voxtech tower, called "The Angel's Wing" and it is by far the biggest and most popular club in the pentagram. This club has a lot of different schemes and business practices going on behind the scenes.

5.)Husk is a bartender there at night, and was tasked with playing rigged card games with drunks at the bar to rack up cash. In fact the entire staff is compiled with scam artists. Angel will do anything to make money.

6.) Velvette has quite a few jobs, always with a headset on and by Angel's side as a sort of assistant. She also makes the outfits/costumes for some of the staff at the club. She always seems to appear right at the right or funniest time, which quite annoys Husk, but they are kind of friendly.

7.) Now Vox's whole deal is a lot different than the others. Since he has a looser contract than the other 2, Angel has to compromise on some things, and one of them is how Vox uses his surveillance. Vox usually works in the surveillance room, with a mic to assist the staff on what is going down, who is ripe to be scammed, and sometimes even let them know exactly what to say to get new clientele. However Vox also has a tendency to Pester another overlord, Alastor and Angel ends up having to clean up messes for him, and suck up to the other overlord, which makes him harder on Vox than the others.

8.) Just so you are all aware I AM IN NO WAY MAKING AN AU WHERE ANGEL IS AN ABUSER. He still has his trauma with being owned by someone and because of this he is one of the more remorseful and less violent overlord. He mostly deals in hustling/scamming, and prostitution where the doesn't mistreat the workers.

That's all!!

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #overlord angel dust #hazbin au

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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WIBTA for telling someone i can't be friends with them and returning a gift?

buckle up gamers, this is gonna be a long one. so i (22nb but i present fem) was out at the bars the other night just kinda hanging out, and a girl (26f) came up and started talking to me. she didnt really seem...super present i guess? and i talked to her to be nice and she had a cool outfit on. well i was a little drunk and ended up giving her my phone number and meeting her husband (39m) and they walked me home. the whole time she was talking about how she doesn't have any friends and her ex friends just wanted to get with her husband. she told me she was bi and i was like hey me too but im not interested in sex so that was cool. she ended up walking me home w her husband bc it was late which was nice, but they seemed really shocked i lived in such a nice apartment(i do, its expensive but my parents pay for it. im really privileged to be able to do that).

i saw her again today because she kept texting me about wanting to hang out, so i went for ice cream with her bc it was in a public place and i wasnt super comfortable going back to her apt with her. i paid for her ice cream bc she said her card wasnt working, nbd bc my parents have money and her and her husband aren't really well off. i said she could pay me back sometime, buy me ice cream or whatever another day, but she really fixated on it. she told me her husband thought i was cute which made me a little uncomfortable but i laughed it of, and then she kept talking about how she was bi and would date a girl and how she approached me not to date but to be a friend and then 'see where it goes.' she also told me she did porn online to make money which is fine w me, that she's on disability but that the money isnt really enough to live on, and that she'd been raped in the past and drugged which yanno a little overshare-y considering ive known her for three days but she really seemed like she needed someone to talk to and im good at listening. well her husband showed up out of nowhere bc he apparently tracks her phone and we all went back to their apartment bc i couldn't say no(im a doormat. i know) and she ended up giving me two pieces of jewelry in return for buying her ice cream which felt a little like overkill. i tried to refuse but she said she wouldn't ever wear them again so it would be fine. it was really kind of her but now i kind of feel i owe her back for them. the whole time i was there they seemed really eager to get me to move in nearby, and while its true that area is definitely cheaper my parents are really fine paying for my expensive apartment bc my tuition is a lot cheaper than my sibling's. she and her husband walked me home again, mentioning they might be going on a cruise in november if they could save up the money and that they could bring a friend. i said id almost definitely have school which they seemed to accept. they kind of seemed to want to see my place, but i told them it was really messy(it is) i have anxiety around having people in my space(i do) and that maybe they could come up another day and i could make dinner, and she told me she didn't like people cooking for her bc she'd been drugged in the past and that i could go over to their apartment again instead.

my parents think theres some really big red flags going on and i should try to break this off sooner rather than later. i pretty much agree. im not gonna ghost her and they dont think i should either, but that i should somehow return the jewelry in a kind way and tell her i cant really be super close friends. my mom had the idea to draw myself wearing the jewelry and then say i still have a memory of it but to return it bc i cant accept such a nice gift which i could try to do.

to be clear i am shit at communication and setting boundaries, im very aware of that, and most of this can be solved by telling her hey i can't accept this gift and im really busy for school a lot and im sorry i cant be as much as a friend as you need. but i still kinda feel like tah for leading her on almost and then breaking it off like everyone else in her life. ive been under a lot of stress bc of school and my stepgrandmother passing and trying to take care of my grandfather so trying to be friends with someone that seems kind of high maintenance is not really tenable for me.

so, wibta if i tried to let her down gently?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lizzy-bonnet · 1 year

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I love Jane Austen's work and I love podcasts, so naturally I follow several JA podcasts (please drop recs in the tags). I'm enjoying Live from Pemberley from Hot and Bothered, but a comment from literally the first episode of the series has been circulating in my brain since I listened to it several months ago: one of the hosts expressed surprise (and disappointment?) in the fact that when we first meet Lizzy, she is "employed in trimming a hat". This comment literally comes right after a conversation about how Austen tells us so much in the very short space of Chapter 1; without wasting any words, we know exactly who Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are (lightly toxic relationship), understand their family situation (need to marry well), meet the main driver of the first act (rich man in the neighbourhood), and understand a social dilemma (girls can't meet him if Mr. Bennet does not make the first overture). So what is Austen telling us when we meet Lizzy in the employment of trimming a hat?

We so often read a sort of modern girlboss feminism into Lizzy because she is smart and stands up for herself, but I think that's something that really gets embroidered on to the text. Lizzy trimming a bonnet is telling us several things about her:

She is frugal - new hats and bonnets are really expensive (my casual hobby is shopping for reproduction bonnets and this remains true), because the straw is braided by hand, the bonnet shape is assembled and blocked by hand, feathers have to be gathered from real (living or dead) birds, ribbons and flowers are hand-finished, the whole situation is fuck expensive. Lizzy is most likely putting new trim on a straw or wool bonnet she already owns to make it work better for this season's fashions, or a new dress, and possibly recycling trimmings from other hats. Contrast this with Lydia's spending all her pocket money on an ugly hat in Chapter 39, just so she can reduce it to parts, even though she acknowledges she'll also have to buy some extra satin too, to finish the project.

She cares about fashion - we don't get a lot of information on sartorial choices in Austen's work, and when characters are discussing fashion, it tends to be a framework for explaining something about their characters; Miss Steele's need to know how much Marianne's dresses cost (rude, crass); Mrs. Bennet's loving description of the lace on Mrs. Hurst's gown (shallow); Catherine Moreland's agonizing over what to wear to the Assembly (young, a bit flighty); Bingley wears a blue coat (has probably read The Sorrows of Young Werther, is fashionable). The fact that Lizzy is trimming a hat tells us she is fashionable, but paired with the fact that she will get a petticoat muddy in order to see her sister, and does not spend a lot of time worrying after fashion like Lydia tells us that she does not live and die on fashion.

She is creative - I've trimmed various hats and bonnets over my years of interest in historical fashion and honestly it's not easy. It's quite fiddly to get a nice ribbon edge, a ruched lining takes forever, and getting sprays of florals and feathers to be nicely shaped and all in a complementary palette is quite fussy. Getting a nice looking bonnet requires some thinking and planning. But it's also great fun! The Regency era is, in my opinion, a particularly good period for hats.

She is normal - I think Austen wants the reader to understand that Lizzy is a young woman with normal cares and concerns. She doesn't have cash for a new bonnet, she wants to look nice, she knows how to put an outfit together, she's not frivolous like her sisters, and she engages in the typical pursuits of someone who is not yet one and twenty who does not have a specific occupation.

A lot of modern readers are expecting Lizzy to be striding around the countryside unconcerned with "girly" things, or reading a clever book because we have come to think of her as proto-feminist in a way that suggests she might be a bra (corset) burner, but I think that comes from an outdated feminist lens that still wants to tell us that girly things are bad, or at least, a bit weak, and I don't see that in the text at all (I think some of this trickles over from the adaptations). Lizzy walks enthusiastically, she enjoys reading (but not to the exclusion of other employments), she dances very well and plays with mediocrity, she cares deeply about her friends and family, she has excellent manners, and dammit, she trims hats.

#jane austen #pride and prejudice #lizzy bennet #regency fashion #bonnets #characterization

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oizysian · 3 months

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I. VICTORY ROYALE

All Eyes on Me masterlist

Word count: 1.7k

•

"You're kidding. Brie Larson? The Brie Larson? The Oscar winner Brie Larson? CAPTAIN MARVEL Brie Larson?!"

"Yes, yes, yes - a million times yes." I laughed as my best friend went on and on about my big news that I finally had the time to tell her about. "That Brie Larson."

"No way." She was quiet for a moment. "And I wasn't mentioned in the tweet at all?"

I felt bad for Claire. We had a joint Twitch channel together and we also had our own separate ones. I had been working on my channel longer than she had so I had more time to grow, and it seemed that my hard work was paying off and I was starting to leave her behind.

"No," I answered sadly. "But that doesn't mean you can't join in." I tried to be optimistic about it, hating that my best friend in the whole wide world was upset.

"Nah, I'm better off just watching the stream. But," I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was smiling. "Do you think she could hook me up with one of her celebrity friends? Maybe Scarlett Johansson?"

"I doubt that. Plus, she's got two kids now. Are you really ready for that responsibility?"

"Yeah, no, nevermind." She laughed. "Well, what about that Olsen girl you've got a crush on?"

"No, you cannot have Lizzie." I replied quickly.

"Oh no? You called dibs?"

"I think her husband already did that." I couldn't even pretend to hide my disappointment.

"Pfft. Husband or not, you've got dibs."

This wasn't exactly a conversation I wanted to have, especially when I was about to make a connection to someone so close to her.

"Whatever. Maybe she'll hook you up with one of the new Marvel girls; Florence or Hailee."

"Oh hell yes, Hailee for sure."

"If it gets you off my back about my crush on Lizzie, I'll talk to her for you." I chuckled, knowing very well I would do no such thing.

"Yeah, right. I know you too well to believe that."

"Worth a shot." I shrugged to myself, checking the time before mentally cursing myself. "Shit, I gotta go. The stream is in a few hours and I still gotta get things set up with Brie."

"Well, okay. Good luck and I'll be watching so don't say anything stupid!"

"Same to you. I know you'll be active in the chat."

"Damn right. Later."

I shut off my game and took off my headset, sighing as I got up and made my way over to my computer. I had a lot of work to do before the stream, mostly setting up Brie's camera and microphone so that she could be seen and heard while we played.

I was still in awe of the fact that I was going to be hosting a live charity stream with a celebrity. It was scary and surreal and I couldn't pretend that I didn't get a heady rush from it. I made all of this happen. I was finally someone. My past be damned.

I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I didn't even realize nearly two hours had passed, and that I had multiple notifications on my phone, the most recent one being from Brie.

"Shit." I muttered to myself, loading up Discord on my computer and video calling my new friend.

We had been texting nearly every day since I sent her the message with all the charity information, but we had never spoken, so this would be our first time face to face.

She answered the call quickly, her face popping up on my screen, taking me by surprise. She looked so down to earth, but still beautiful in a casual outfit and her hair up in a messy bun.

"Hey, Y/N." She greeted me with a bright smile and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, hi, Brie." I finally spoke, my cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment at my nervousness.

"You ready for our twenty-four hour stream?"

"Twenty-four hours?" I laughed. "Maybe twelve. I'm not sure about twenty-four."

"Aw, c'mon. It's for charity."

We spoke for a while before getting ourselves hyped up to start the stream. Once we decided on a game and double checked that all the stream settings were perfect, we went live.

@y/n_gaymergod LIVE 🔴 with @brielarson raising money for The Trevor Project!

We decided on Fortnite, a game she was familiar with and one that I was pretty rusty in, which made me a bit nervous due to the fact that my character skin was Scarlet Witch - someone she knew. I loaded up the game and invited her, ready for the influx of comments mentioning my big, embarrassing crush on Elizabeth Olsen.

She joined my game and I silently watched her reaction. Nothing. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and turned my attention to the chat.

"Hi, everyone! We just got started and already we've got $15 donated! We didn't even start playing yet." Both Brie and I laughed, interacting with the chat as we started up a game of duos.

y/n is playing as the love of her life

big gay crush on fruity lizzie

y/n your gay is showing

I blushed a fierce red as I read the comments, hoping Brie didn't notice. It seemed that she was too busy trying to snipe some guys from across the map to pay any attention to the chat at the moment, which I was insanely grateful for.

"Nice shot, Y/N!" She exclaimed as I saved her from being downed.

"Thanks. You're not too bad yourself, Larson."

She smirked at me and I dropped some items for her in-game so she could recover from the fight we were just in.

was that flirting

y/n don't cheat on lizzie

y/n is flirting with brie larson i cant even

what about ur waifu for laifu lizzie y/n?

I ignored them.

"We've got this dub for sure." I assured her and she nodded and started cheering us on as we ran through the storm.

"Number one victory royale, baby!" She yelled as she ran into an unsuspecting duo, blasting them both with her shotgun.

Our first win of the stream done, we returned our attention to the chat and donations, now having received nearly $130.

"Wow, guys!" I couldn't believe it. "We're doing great so far. And we got a win! This is going really well." I directed the last part to Brie and she smiled, nodding at me.

A large donation flashed on the screen and my jaw dropped at the message attached to it.

"Brie, introduce Y/N to Elizabeth Olsen. She's in love with her."

I could feel my cheeks burning, tears building up in my eyes as she, obviously, read it. I was so fucking embarrassed.

"Thank you for the donation, but please don't say things like that again." I swallowed roughly. "We respect Elizabeth's marriage in this house." I tried to joke, the hurt surely evident in my voice.

Brie looked at me through the screen with an expression I couldn't quite identify before speaking again.

"I could make that happen."

My eyes went wide, my attention completely gone from the game and on my new friend. I got myself shot at and I cursed under my breath, trying to recover from the assault we were currently under.

"If we win this game, I'll see what I can do."

"Brie ..." I started to speak before she cut me off.

"You've gotta get more kills to catch up to me, Y/N. Keep up." She gave me a crooked smile, probably realizing that by saying that the chat would lay off me about it.

I made a mental note to thank her later, pushing down my awkward feelings from the chat and the last donor and focusing completely on the game. Even if it was just talk, I was determined to win.

Which we did. And many more after that.

We streamed for nearly twenty hours, with small breaks in between. We played a few different games and even played with viewers for a while. Our final donation total was a whopping $5,450, which surprised the hell out of me, but I was proud of our efforts. We did really, really good.

"So, about meeting Elizabeth." Brie started as we sat in a video call after the stream, just chilling and talking about how much fun we had.

"Brie, don't worry about that. My chat often busts my balls like that trying to embarrass me."

"It seems like they care about you." I was silent. "It sounds like you admire her."

"I just think she's cool, that's all. She seems like a nice person." I tried to cover my ass, but I'm sure I was very transparent.

"She is a nice person, and I think she'll like you a lot." She looked down at her phone for a few minutes before looking back up at me. "There's going to be an invite only party in LA in a few days celebrating the release of the new Doctor Strange movie."

I swallowed roughly, listening to her with bated breath.

"I want you to come with me as my plus one."

"I'm in New York, not LA, Brie."

"We can fix that. We have time to get you a flight and hotel."

I bit my lip in thought.

"Would it really be okay?" My voice was small and unsure.

She smiled brightly at me.

"Yes, of course it would! It's gonna be so exciting to hang out together in person."

I smiled, now excited myself and nodded in response.

"Okay, I'll do it. I'll come visit you and we can party and we can even record some of it for your YouTube channel if you want and -"

"Y/N, breathe." She chuckled at my reaction and tried to calm myself down.

"Sorry." I apologized bashfully. "I've never been to LA before."

"Oh no? Maybe I can show you around a bit. I know some really fantastic restaurants that you might like."

"That sounds great, I'm so excited!"

"I can tell." She smiled. "And does any of that excitement have to do with meeting Elizabeth?"

"Psh, no." I lied through my teeth. "I'm excited about spending time with you."

"Mhm. Nice cover."

"It's true! I consider you a good friend, Brie. I think we're gonna have a good time together."

"Me too, Y/N."

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp

#oizysian writes #elizabeth olsen x yn #elizabeth olsen story #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen #Brie Larson #brie larson x y/n #brie larson x female reader #brie larson x reader

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xoxoavenger · 5 months

Text

Get Used to It

pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie learns how to paint Y/N's nails so she doesn't have to.

word count: 3215

warnings: none

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist main masterlist

"Oh my God, I hate this shit." Y/N groans, flapping her hands in the air.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eddie pulls his gaze away from the campaign he's been working on for the past hour and a half, confused why she was moving about. A movie they had 'stolen' from Family Video was playing in the background, one they'd have to return tomorrow before someone asked for it. Steve and Robin knew exactly where to look now when their computer showed they had the VHS but it was nowhere to be found.

"Drying my nails." She said, but it was not informative to Eddie. He blinked at her, and she chuckled as she walked over to him.

"Explain?" He begged, turning his back to the counter and leaving his full attention on her.

"I painted them, see?" She put her hands out, the pink nail polish shining in the small trailer. After Eddie actually graduated and became a mechanic, Y/N practically moved in. She already had all her stuff there, having moved away from her parents house when they got mad that she was dating a super senior and still took the job they had gotten her of Steve's dad's secretary. She hated it, but it paid the bills that her and Eddie were left with when Wayne announced he was moving to a small apartment close by, leaving the trailer to his nephew. Her parents had forced her into it, wanting to set up her life, but they had all but kicked her out now.

"I do see." He commented, holding her hands like she was a princess and studying her nails. He pulled them toward his face to kiss the top of her hands, but she pulled them away quickly.

"You can't touch!" She yelled, holding her hands close so that he couldn't touch again. "They're still wet!" Eddie groaned like a child, head facing the ceiling.

"Babe," He whined, and Y/N chuckled.

"I don't want to get them messed up! We just have to be patient."

Two minutes later, however, when Eddie was back at his campaign, Y/N had forgotten her own rule.

"I hate doing this. These fuckers never dry!" She closed her eyes as she laid back on the couch, hands finally stilling.

"But they're gonna look so pretty." Eddie got up from the small desk he had put in the living room, walking to the couch and grabbing her hands. This time she let him, not caring because she was so done with her nails.

"I have to pee." She whined, making Eddie laugh. He began to blow on her nails, and she smiled as she opened her eyes and turned to him. "You're the best."

"I know." He smirked, finally getting to kiss the top of her hand. "If you hate this, why do you do it?" He asked, and she just shrugged.

"I like the end result, but I hate actually painting them and then waiting for forever." Y/N sighed, and he frowned.

"Why don't you just go get them done?" Eddie asked, and she looked at him like he had just asked why she had two eyes.

"Babe," She chuckled, looking at him as if he was a child. "We live in a trailer. We don't have money to get my nails done every three weeks." She seemed fine, still smiling as if this was her favorite conversation and they weren't talking about how they were poor. Eddie's eyes widened as an idea popped in his head. He just smiled up at her and continued to blow on her fingers to finish drying.

They didn't have black nail polish. This was a problem.

But it was not going to deter Eddie. He felt like he was put on this earth for Y/N; he would do whatever it took to make her happy.

So, when Eddie walked into the shop that morning, he made sure to wear his spikiest, punk rock outfit. He glared at everyone, not because he was insecure about it, but because he would be damned if anyone made him feel bad for doing something for his girl.

So he went through his day with very little people talking to him, until that bitch came in.

"Hello, ma'am, what can I do for ya?" He asked, elbows leaning on the counter and leaving his dark blue painted nails in full view.

"I don't associate with your kind." The woman crossed her arms and looked up, as if Eddie were beneath her. He was not, and she was going to know about it. "Do you have anyone else I can talk to?"

"My kind?" Eddie stands up straight and crosses his arms, his angry stare going back onto his face. He knew what the lady was talking about. "Get the fuck out." He points at the door.

"Gladly." Eddie rolls his eyes as the woman leaves, looking at the polish. And after everything that happened that day, all he can think is that these look shoddy at best. He's gotta get better if he wants to paint Y/N's nails in three weeks.

When he gets home, Y/N doesn't notice that his nails are painted as she tells him something about the kids, stirring something in a large bowl - probably dinner. He decides to take the polish off with the remover in their room, not wanting to give away his surprise. When he walks back out, Y/N is putting something in the oven.

"How was your day?" She asks, leaning against the the counter. Eddie leans forward to kiss her, and she leans in to deepen it before he pulls back with a smirk.

"Long. A rude customer, but whatever." Eddie isn't interested in his day. "How was yours?" He knows as soon as she lets out a sigh that it was not a good day.

"I'm so tired." She says simply, and that's how he knows it was a bad day.

"Do you wanna take a little nap? I can finish dinner." He tells her, and she sags in happiness.

"You're too good, Eds." She walks around the island to kiss Eddie, and he squeezes her ass to make her laugh.

"I love you," He tells her, letting her go and smiling down at her.

"I love you more." She tells him, going back into the room, sighing as she stripped and laid in bed.

Eddie had no idea how to cook dinner, and he did burn what Y/N was making, but she sleepily ate it without complaining and then made him get in the shower with her before passing the fuck out on the bed, completely naked.

Everyday, after Y/N had left but before Eddie had to go to work, he painted his nails outside, so the smell didn't give anything away in the trailer. If he did well and went fast enough, he had time to take it off. If he didn't, he'd just take it off as soon as he got home, using the cover of a shower to rub his nails with acetone. It worked fine until his off day, the day he had the Hellfire kids at his place. Because it was his day off, he had used a bright nail polish, one that stuck out against his heavy metal look. And then he got ready for the campaign and completely forgot about it.

"Hey, man," Dustin interrupts Eddie, making the table become quiet as everyone stared. They were sitting outside, the only sound the birds chirping. "What the fuck is on your nails?" He hadn't even gotten to the beginning of the campaign, which made him angry enough that he didn't pay attention to what Dustin had actually said.

"You little shit," Eddie stood and put his hands on the table as he stood, moving one to pointing at Dustin. "You know there's no talking when I'm talking." And as he points he realizes that his nails are painted bright pink.

Fuck.

"None of you are gonna say a word of this to anyone. Got it?" He puts on his most threatening look, and almost all the kids nod. Almost.

"Why the hell are your nails painted?" Mike asks, and Eddie closes his eyes and tilts his head in annoyance.

"Because I am in love." Eddie snaps, clicking his jaw. He's going to purposefully go off script to murder these gremlins in this campaign.

"What does that even mean?" Lucas whispers, looking at the others. Eddie sighs, because he knows he's gonna have to explain.

"I am learning how to paint nails, alright? Y/N likes her nails painted but she hates actually painting them, so I'm gonna start painting them for her." Eddie sits back down, hand over his eyes waiting for the shit talking to start.

"That's actually really cute." Gareth said finally, and Eddie looked up to see the rest of the boys staring at him in wonder.

"I learned how to paint nails after everything that happened with Max." Lucas pipes up, and everyone nods. They all remember how Max had to relearn how to do basically everything after breaking as many bones as she did, but no one knew that Lucas had been the one to make sure her nails were painted. Eddie mentally scratches Lucas off the list of shits to kill today.

After that they all play D&D, and no one brings it up again. But Eddie feels a little bit better, and he can't wait for Y/N to want her nails done again.

"If any of you motherfuckers decide to tell anyone and ruin the surprise for Y/N, you're done. Never playin' this game again, got it?" They didn't look too worried, but Eddie was fairly confident that his point got through.

"You're so dramatic." Erica rolled her eyes, just wanting to get on with the game.

"I'm being so serious." He tells them, eyes wide and crazy.

"We know. We won't say anything." Will assures him, and Eddie resists the urge to roll his eyes once more. He knows Will wouldn't say anything, even without a threat. It's Dustin and Mike he's worried about. He'll have to move his plan forward, because the little shits will probably tell Steve or Nancy but leave out the surprise part and then he'll have to kick everyone out of his trailer until he calms down.

So, the next day he has all the colors laid out on the table, a paper towel in the middle, waiting for Y/N to get home. He sits there nervously, TV playing in the background. He almost pisses his pants with nerves when the door opens.

"Oh my God, I'm so glad today is over. Fuckin' J-" She cuts herself off as she looks at Eddie, who is staring at her with the biggest, most adorable look on his face; eyes wide and mouth parted as he sat in front of every nail polish she owned and a couple she had never seen before. "Ed, what," She couldn't even finish her sentence, because she didn't even know what to say.

"I know how much you hate painting your nails and waiting for them to dry and getting polish everywhere," He starts, and her eyes start to get teary as she chokes down her emotion. "So I learned how to paint nails. I can even do it with my left hand." He tells her, smiling widely.

"You've been painting your nails?" She asks, looking at his clean nails.

"I've been taking it off before you get home." He tells her, and she can't take it anymore, she jumps over the coffee table and launches herself into his lap to hug him tightly.

"I can't believe you would do this for me." She whispers into his ear, heart fluttering as he runs his hands up and down her back.

"I love you so much." And in that moment, she knows he's the one. If he would teach himself how to paint nails to surprise her, she couldn't wait for him to paint his daughters nails, or even his sons. He would learn how to do something over and over and over and over just to make his family happy.

She wanted to marry Eddie Munson. Spend the rest of her life with him.

"I love you more." She knew she would never deserve this man.

"And then he blew on my nails while we watched Return of the Jedi. I didn't have to do a thing and look!" Y/N showed her nails to Robin and Nancy, who blinked at her.

"What the fuck?" Nancy asked, grabbing her hand and staring. "Can he talk to Jonathan and teach him?" She asks, looking back up at Y/N.

"I've never dated anyone who could paint nails that good." Robin tells them, taking her turn to look at Y/N's nails. They were plain, just a light shade of yellow that would go perfect with the warming temperature that came with the summer season.

"He taught himself. Painted his nails everyday for, like, a month." Y/N tells them, heart fluttering as she talks about him.

"There's no way." Nancy said, leaning back.

"What?" Y/N chuckled, taking her hand back.

"You won the lottery." Robin finishes Nancy's thought, and Y/N just stares at them as her cheeks heat up.

"Oh, come on, you guys have great partners-"

"If you don't marry that man," Nancy started, finger pointing at Y/N. "Well, I'd say someone else will, but I doubt he'd marry anyone else." Y/N's heart flutters at this, the way it's a well known fact that Eddie is so in love with Y/N that he would never marry anyone else.

"I'm trying." She tells them, the thought of getting married to Eddie making her heart race.

"Why this color, baby?" She asks as Eddie begins to paint her nails white. He'd been painting her nails for months now, and every time he would tell her why he picked that color. White was new. She wasn't even sure she had owned white nail polish, and this bottle looked like it had just been bought.

"Because it goes with everything." He tells her, tongue poking out as he concentrated. "And I may like the difference between the white of your nails and my leather jacket." He tells her, and her heart raced.

"Okay," She tells him, feeling like a pile of goo at his words.

When her nails are dry, they go to bed, but Eddie stays awake. He knows he should go to sleep, that even though they both have the day off it's gonna be a long day and he needs sleep.

But he barely closes his eyes before his girl is on top of him, sun filtering through their shitty curtains and illuminating her face and hair, which is falling forward.

"G'mornin'." He rasps, and she smiles and kisses him.

"Good morning." She whispers against his lips, and he groans, because he knows they're going to be late to their reservations - yeah, he made reservations - at the fancy new place in town. She didn't know about the reservations, because today was meant to be surprise after surprise for her.

"We actually have to get dressed." He tells her, one look at the clock confirming that they did in fact not have time for his favorite activity.

"For what?" She has a dangerous smile on her face, and Eddie has to look away.

"I made us reservations." This makes Y/N pause sitting up on him.

"You made reservations." At his nod, she blinks and nods with him. "Where? The diner?" She asks which a chuckle.

"Uh, no." He tells her, pushing her back onto the bed and getting, up, because otherwise he would never get up. "At Novo's." When he tells her this he can practically feel her confusion.

"Babe," She stares as he begins to strip, getting in the shower.

"You're not following me in here." He calls, locking the door to the bathroom.

"Asshole!" She calls, but he smirks.

Eddie is shaking.

He can't tell if Y/N knows, because she just smiles as she looks around through the park that Eddie had suggested they stroll through.

"Oh, shit, hold on." He starts, replaying his practices in his head. He's never been this nervous in his entire life. Y/N stops and lets him kneel down, and he pretends to tie his shoe. His hand shakes as he reaches into his pocket and grabs the box. When he looks up at her, her eyes are wide and there's a smile on her face. She's not quite sure what's going on.

"Y/N," His voice is shaking, so he clears his throat. "I have never wanted to get married. I didn't think I was cut out for my own family. I thought I was destined to stay in the trailer park. And then I met you."

"Eddie," She whispers, tears beginning to fall down her face.

"For you, I would stay in the trailer my whole life. I want to have a family. I want to get married." He tells her, feeling his eyes begin to water. "Y/N, I love you more than I have ever loved anything. I didn't know this kind of love could exist. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He can't get the words out because Y/N's got one hand over her mouth, the other shaking as she stretches it out to him.

"Yes," She whispers, and Eddie chuckles.

"Baby, I haven't asked you yet." He tells her.

"I will marry you." She says in response,

"You haven't even seen the ring." He watches her let out a watery laugh.

"Oh my God, shut up and put a ring on it." She cries, and he laughs with her, opening the box, putting the ring on her finger and standing to kiss her deeply. Her arms go around his neck as he pulls her waist closer to him, smiles breaking their kiss as their tears mingle.

"I love you so much." He tells her and she just laughs.

"I'd hope so." She kisses him once more before looking at her hand. "You painted my nails white for the proposal." She feels another wave of tears rush down her cheeks and he just kisses her again.

"I'm never going to stop kissing you." He tells her, and she just laughs.

"I'm assuming we have a party to go to." She tells him, knowing he would have Steve throwing a get together at his house very soon, and that they would have to tell the kids then because those little shits wouldn't have kept their mouths shut if they already knew.

"Well, I may have scheduled in some time for us to be alone. Ya know, to consummate the engagement." He tells her, and she just laughs.

"Of course you did." She lets him kiss her again, much too intimate for a park.

"I love you, wife." He mutters, and she feels everything flutter; her heart, her veins, her stomach.

"I love you more, husband." And she feels the moment Eddie has the same reaction.

"I could get used to this." She grabs his hand and pulls him to the van, knowing they were going to have to stop in a parking lot and then go to the party.

"Get used to it, husband."

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @icequeen1371 @mcueveryday @xxhellfirebunnyxx @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things fluff

194 notes · View notes

everlastlady · 6 months

Text

Mammon + Servant Reader (Female)

✘Posted: 11/4/2023

✘Story Contains: Fem reader, Reader is a maid, Bubble baths, Gentle Mammon, Slight Nudity, Favoritism, & Feel good times.

✘Word Count: None, writing this on mobile y'all

✘Author's Note: Decided to do Mammon with female reader, I'll do a male reader soon. Just decided to cater to my female readers but I promise I will cater to my male readers. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✘Summary: {Name} is a simple maid for the greed lord Mammon. {Name} isn't sure why Mammon always calls on her and always wants him by his side when he wanders his home. But she doesn't mind because she finds her master funny and enjoys how gentle he is with her. But what happens when {Name} gets sick? And it's time for Mammon to take care of them.

" It's okay sir, I'm sure that you will fine someone better than Fizzarolli. " She spoke softly to her boss Mammon who sat in the large green chair. As the imp news woman spoke about what happened at the show. The maid named (name), picked up the remote and pointed it at the large screen and turned it off. Once it flickered to black. She looked over at Mammon who was still fumming over what happened at the clown pageant. " I don't understand, I gave him everything! " Mammon's voice deep and demonic as he slammed his fist onto the table, sending a large crack through it. (Name) smacked her lips. She would have to get that fixed. " sometimes, you can give someone everything and they will still leave, I understand that you are frustrated sir but don't let this stop you from making money; I'm sure someone new will come along, what about the Glam Sisters? " (Name) walked over to Mammon's liquor cabinet. " Comas, after a piece of the set fell on them, they both ended up in the hospital in comas, besides they don't really fit the image of what I'm looking for. " Mammon muttered. (Name) noodded her head and set down the glass of liquor for Mammon. The greed demon looked up at (Name) and smiled. " Thanks, I know I always say this but you are my favorite maid, far better than the rest! You always do your job right and know how to keep a smile on my mug. " Mammon chuckled and took a drink. " Come drink with me, (Name) " Mammon grinned looking up at the maid. Her soft (E/C) looked at Mammon before shaking her head. " No, thank you, sir, I still have work to do; it's not good for one to be drunk on the job. You can cause a lot of mishaps that way putting others in harm and yourself. " (Name) said with a darling smile.

" See that is why you're my favorite (Name)! So smart and responsible with your duties. Maybe next time on one of your vacation days, you and me can drink together. " Mammon said. He would actually love to have a drink with (Name). And you wouldn't have to wear that plain maid outfit. Mammon wondered what (Name) would look like in different outfits. What dresses would (Name) wear or outfits that weren't dress related. Mammon never really seen (Name) outside work. He knew that she lived in the Pride ring and had an apartment. That's all he really knew about (Name's) life since she barely sooke about herself, she listened more than she speaks. " So (Name) how the payments on your apartment? Going because I've been thinking about giving you more payment, maybe you could buy yourself a nice house. " Mammon smirked. " It's going well, besides my loud and annoying neighbor. It's been good but I don't think I need a bigger payment. " (Name) said while tucking a piece of her hair behind her pointed ears. " Aww, come on; yes you do because you are responsible and work hard so tonight expect me to send you a shit ton of money. Now run around and tell the cook to prepare dinner. " Mammon waved his hand to dismiss (Name).

She smiled and bowed, walking out of Mammon's office. Mammon stood up and stared at the spot that (Name) stood in. " Lord of greed giving out money, I must be crazy... " Mammon looked away. " She better get a nice house with that money, a beautiful one at best. " Mammon sat back down. But there was no time to think about (Name) because Mammon had to find a replacement for Mammon so he would probably have to hold another clown off. His little fucked up beauty pageant, but hey if it helps him find Fizzarolli's replacement. Then he would be glad to hold one again. Especially have Fizzarolli and Asmodeus banned from it even that little imp with the gun that had showed up. When night time had finally coated the sky. Mammon sat in the dining room. The table decorated with food. (Name) stood next to Mammon holding a bottle of the greed demon's favorite wine. " (Name) how about you sit down and eat with me. " Mammon took the bottle wine and set it on the table. " And that's an order, just in case you try to come up with some excuse. " Mammon gestures towards the chair at the end of table. " Hey cook! Bring out plate for (Name)! " Mammon yelled. (Name) walked over and sat down - with a smile, the chef brought out a plate that had lemon pepper chicken, mashed potatoes covered in gravy, pasta,and vegetables that were just steamed. The night went well, Mammon made (Name) laugh with his jokes and stories. She listened to her master's rants and ideas.

Mammon enjoyed seeing (Name) laughed. The way her giggles slipped off her lips and coated his ears like honey. How her shoulders moved when she laugh, even that snort was adorable. Mammon felt hot in the face. He couldn't believe that she had made him feel this way for such a long time. But he never acted on these feelings because he was busy making money. But he always made sure that no one tried to get at (Name) which is why so many servants were fired for trying to hit on her. After dinner was done, (Name) stood up and bowed. " I'm grateful that you invited me to join you for dinner, sir, everything was delicious and I appreciated our conversation and the jokes you told. " (Name) spoke through a fit of giggles on the last part still remembering Mammon's joke about clown fish. " No problem, I also enjoyed eating with you. Way better than those dinners I have to attend with Lucifer and the other sins. " Mammon stood up smiling but he stopped noticing how (Name) wobble a bit when standing straight up. Did she drink to much wine? No that couldn't be because she had to drive home. " (Name)? " Mammon walked over to (Name) . " You okay mate? " Mammon reached out. Before she could respond she threw up on yourself and the carpet, (Name) would have fallen and hit the floor but Mammon caught her before she could pass out.

" (Name)! " He called her name and held you close not caring if he got her vomit on him. (Name's) eyes flickered opened as she coughed. " I don't feel good... " Her voice sounded dry and low. " Y-You are going home, let's go get you cleaned up. " Mammon picked up (Name), poor girl could barely speak it hurt to speak so she wouldn't fight back with Mammon who brought her into a guest bedroom. (Name) always took care of him, he will now take care of her. Mammon managed to grab a large shirt that had his logo on it. (Name) could sleep in that and get out of that disgusting maid outfit that was covered in vomit. Mammon ran (Name) a bath. He made sure the water wasn't too hot or cold. He added in some bath salts and oils. Mammon turned towards (Name) trying to figure out how to not make this sound creepy. " (Name) take off that outfit and get into the tub, we gotta get you washed up mate, this bath will help a little. " Mammon offered his hand. (Name) nodded weakly and took his hand, stepping into the bathroom. Mammon turned around as (Name) peeled away her clothing and stepped into the tub - it smelled like mint and honey. She let out a relaxing sigh. Mammon turned around and got on his knees as he began to wash her up. " You don't have to do that sir. " (Name) said in a tires voice. " Shh, yes I do, you always take care of me, so for the night just let me take care of you please. " Mammon said while washing up (Name).

She nodded her head as her boss Mammon washes her up. Avoiding her chest area and crotch area. She held onto the tub when Mammon lifted her leg to wash it. This felt nice, so she enjoyed herself. Mammon took a cup of water and poured it over (Name's) head as he washed her hair and face. He would let her handle the rest while he went to go get her towels and medicine. He could have gotten servant to do this but no, he wanted to take care of (Name), Mammon returned and helped (Name) out of the tub. She dried off and slipped into the large dark green shirt that Mammon gave her. It had his logo on it. " Sorry that I couldn't get you any undergarments. " Mammon said with a crimson blush. " It's fine, I usually sleep without them more comfortable that way. You feel less trapped. " (Name) said while taking the medicine that Mammon brought her. She crawled into the bed as Mammon placed his hand on her head. " Your fever is going down a little. " Mammon said with his hand placed on (Name's) head. " I'm going to stay by your side so scooch over. " Mammon moved over before getting into the bed with you. He laid next to you and stared at you. " You look cute in my merch. " He said. (Name's) voice was still a little dry but still did her voice to talk. " Thanks, the material feels soft. " She said while playing with the blanket.

Mammon turned his side to look at (Name) who did the same to look at Mammon. " Sir... " (Name) began to speak again. " Call me, Mammon. " Mammon said running his fingers through her hair. " Mammon thank you for taking care of me, I'm also sorry that I ruined the carpet. " She looked down. " It's fine, I can get it clean; besides I've been wanting to replace that carpet with a new one. Taking care of you is something you deserve, you always take care of me, so I decided to take care of you... I don't know your my favorite and I like you. " Mammon he hoped that saying that didn't make things awkward between (Name) and him. " I like you too. " (Name) smiled tiredness filled with their eyes. She rested her head on Mammon's chest, while he continued to play with her hair, but soon he leaned down and kissed her. (Name) pulled away quickly. " Mammon, you'll get sick! " She had worry in her voice. " I don't care, I will be fine. " Mammon went back to kissing (Name) who soon melted into the kiss. She enjoyed this moment between her and Mammon. This was no longer just a maid and her master. But just two people who love each other and care for each other. Who take care of each, who soon will have a future together.

Mammon's Clowns aka Mammon Tag List:

If you want to be added to the Mammon Tag List Let Me Know.

#helluva boss #helluva striker #helluva mammon #helluva mammon x female reader #helluva x reader #helluva x female reader #character x reader #character x you #helluva fanfiction #helluva fandom #helluva stories #helluva everlasting #everlasting writes🪻

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ageless-soul-au · 24 days

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Dream girl!! 🌺 🌊

Marin washed up in Calatia, post Link's Awakening. The owners of a tavern in town gave her work and a place to stay, and Marin quickly learned that drunk people were sometimes assholes. She had to grow a thick skin, but eventually got used to the nature of her job (as well as learning that she could bat her eyelashes at some people and swindle them out of money/gifts/favors). She doesn't know much about where Legend is, or if he's even around in the time period she ended up in, but she's hoping to save up enough money in order to travel to Hyrule and find out...

Finally a ref for Marin!! I love her sososososo much, so I wanted to finalize an outfit for her before committing to a ref, bc she deserves something good!! I think I'm happy with this. The design on her corset is supposed to be reminiscent of waves.

Details not pictured: Her skirt falls to mid calf, and fades from the powdery blue at the top to the lighter blue that's the main color of her corset. For footwear, she has ankle boots that lace up and cream colored socks.

Marin is from ASAU, please don't tag any other AUs!! 💙

Image ID under the cut

Image ID: A character reference for Marin from Ageless Soul AU, featuring three drawings and text.

The text reads "Marin, barmaid from Koholint, age 21, height 5'4" / 162 cm, she/her."

The main drawing to the left pictures Marin looking slightly to the side and smiling smugly, twirling a lock of hair around her finger with her other hand behind her back. She has sunset red curly hair that's fluffy and falls to her lower back, brown eyes with red highlights, and tan skin with lots of freckles. Her body type is curvy/chubby and her dress shows some cleavage. She's wearing a sky blue dress made up of a strapless corset and a skirt, with the short, slightly puffed sleeves of a cream chemise sitting off her shoulders and the neckline of which is peeking up over the top of the corset. She wears the diamond shaped gold pendant with a red gem from Link's Awakening on a long chain, long enough that the pendant hangs slightly under her bust. Her hair is tucked behind one round ear, showing four ear piercings: two studs in her lobe and two rings in her upper cartilage (helix piercings).

The two doodles on the right are in a slightly more cartoony style.

The top doodle has a pink background and shows Marin in profile, leaning over a table that has pints of beer on it. She has a mocking, heart-shaped smile as she says, "I don't have to serve assholes. Get out~"

The bottom doodle has a green background. Marin is in a sassy pose with her right hand on her hip and her left dismissively waving off someone not pictured. Her eyes are closed as she says, "Not worth my time 💙 Go fuck yourself 💙"

There are doodles of hearts and water droplets around the page, as well as a fully rendered hibiscus and a color palette.

/end ID

#ageless soul au #au art #ASAU Marin #Character ref #My first time trying to ID a drawing. It's probably too long don't judge me lol #I wanted to be THOROUGH

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laenordeservedbetter · 1 year

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heyy so hear me out obsessed ghostface Sam...

But I Love You!

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: Ghostface!Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Sam would do everything in her power to make sure that you remain hers no matter who she has to stab in the way.

Warnings: (18+), killing, violence, manipulation, cussing, suggestive themes, unhinged Sam(?), confusing ending, not proofread (i had a long day and i'm tired). lmk if I missed any.

The italics in the first few scenes with reader & sam are Sam's inner dialogue/thoughts. This doesn't follow the scream timeline. Here, Sam never left Woodsboro, Tara's still in school, and Sam became Ghostface.

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

—

It started with an attraction or in simpler terms, a crush - the foundation of all things relationship related.

You turned up to her workplace by chance, caught up in the middle of the storm. It was common sense to stop driving and find a secure place to stay for the meantime. The diner Sam worked at was the closest. That’s how you found yourself acting as the cloud that would pour water on a certain place. Your day had been terrible. You were late to work, customers were more irate today than the previous days, and you forgot to bring your umbrella before leaving. Clothes soaking wet and droplets of water pouring on the floor, Sam was bound to notice you.

At first, her blood boiled. After all, she’d have to be the one to clean up this mess. But when she took a glance at you, her heart skipped a beat. The makeup on your face was smudged, your hair a tangled mess, but damn, “You look beautiful.” Sam whispered.

Your head snapped up, noticing someone else’s presence in the room for the first time. “What?”

“I said, ‘how can I help you?’” Sam silently cursed herself for slipping up.

You don’t notice the lie. “I’m looking for a place to stay for an hour or so. Just until the rain calms down. And maybe food?” The woman has an unreadable expression on her face. “Don’t worry, I have money, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The woman smiles kindly, “Oh, I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Oh? What were you thinking, then?”

“That you might need a change of clothes.” Sam gestures to your outfit.

“You’re probably right.” You say, “Sadly, I don’t have anything else to change into.”

Sam bites her lip, weighing out her options. “We have a spare uniform in the back.” She relents.

“That’s kind of you, but wouldn’t your boss be mad?”

Ugh. Roger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him. The only thing you should focus on right now is making sure you don’t get sick.” Sam walks to the room that says ‘staff only’ and comes back less than a minute later to hand you the clothes. “Here. You can change to the bathroom over there.” She points to the lavatory.

“Thank you so much. You’re an angel.” You say, taking your time to go to the bathroom to avoid slipping.

Once Sam hears the door close, she looks to your car parked outside. She can’t let you leave. Not yet.

She grabs her umbrella hidden under the counter and makes her way outside, making sure the bathroom door is still closed before popping the hood of the car open, removing the rotor piece. “Nice and easy.” Sam mumbles, pocketing the piece. She rushes back in the diner, hoping to be there before you can question her whereabouts.

You exit the lavatory wearing the uniform given to you by the kind stranger.

It fits her perfectly. “All good?” Sam asks, handing you a towel.

“Yes, yes. I can’t thank you enough. Not many people would go out of their way to help a stranger.” You shiver, putting the towel around you like a cloak.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

“Please. Call me Y/n.”

“You have a pretty name.” She says.

“Not as pretty as yours. . . Samantha.” You squint your eyes to read the name on the tag of her blouse.

Sam’s brows furrow, “How did you know my name?”

“It’s on your tag.” You point out.

Sam laughs, like, really laughs. The laugh-at-your-crush’s-jokes-even-if-you-don’t-find-it-funny kind of laugh. What is happening? “Fuck. Sorry. I’m not used to pretty girls complimenting me.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” You take a seat at one of the stools near the counter, smirking, “You must have dozens of women and/or men lining up at your door. With that face and kind heart, anyone could swoon.”

“Nope. Trust me. There’s no one.”

“More chances for me.” You do a fist bump in the air, not caring how stupid you looked. “Yes!”

You see Sam’s eyes widen as she tries to look away.

She’ll be the death of me.

As predicted, your car wouldn’t start. Sam gladly offered you a ride to your apartment, where she then asked for your number. You had no hesitation and gave it, thinking her intentions were pure. And they were.

Mostly.

That was eleven months ago.

You and Sam are together now and the crush bloomed into something more.

She was the perfect girlfriend. Good-hearted, gentle, caring. You thought you had hit the jackpot until the cracks in your relationship began to show themselves.

At first, it was the little things you noticed whenever you were together in public. Sam always had an arm around you. It didn’t matter if it was your waist or your shoulders or locking your arms together. She wanted to make sure the world knew that you were hers, which was fine. She wasn’t ashamed of you. Though, whenever someone looks at you too long or if they flirt with you despite Sam being there, her grip on your body tightens a little, but not too much to the point where it hurts.

The more time you spent with Sam, the more your friends started to get worried. It’s not healthy, they said. She’s keeping you from seeing us!, they argued. As soon as you shared their worries to Sam, she took effort in dispelling your doubts, telling you that your friends were envious of what you have and that it was normal to spend more time with your girlfriend than your friends, added by reassurance that there was nothing to worry about.

You chalked it off as Sam trying to look out for you.

After all, she is your girlfriend.

Then, there was that moment at a party.

It was a gathering for work. A room full of rich snobs and picture perfect careers. You couldn’t stand it, but your attendance was required. The only upside was that the company allowed you to bring a plus one. Naturally, you asked Sam and she said yes.

Even though you were elated that she agreed to go with you, you didn’t consider the possibility of not being able to talk to her much throughout the night because of strangers chatting you up. Some of them had the intention of asking you out. Though, upon seeing Sam’s deathly stare, they backed off. All but one.

The guy, Michael (tall, brunette, green eyes), would not stop leering at you with a mischievous grin. You felt sick to your stomach, uncomfortable by the way he looked at you, but not being able to do anything about it since he wasn’t actively trying to pursue you. Still, it disgusted you.

Sam’s hold on your waist remains, her jaw clenching, a clear sign that she was getting antsy. “Can we leave?”

You nod, “Yes. They’ve all seen me already, I think. We can finally go.” Despite the looks given to you by Michael, you tried your best to not let it dampen your mood, smiling at your girlfriend.

“Good. Come on.” Sam says, leading you to her car without so much as a smile.

“Hey, Sam, are you okay?” You make her look at you, holding her face in your hand.

Her gaze softens, “Yes, I am. Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

“Other than the way his eyes made me feel, I’m fine. I’ll probably forget about it when we watch a movie when we arrive back home.” You assure.

“Who says we’re watching a movie?” Sam’s lips quirk upwards, hands wrapping around your waist as she pulls you to her while your arms move to her shoulders.

“Well, what do you have in mind, Miss Carpenter?”

She gives you a peck on the lips. “It’s better if I show you.”

You ran inside the car in a hurry to get back to your apartment and let Sam do the things she wants to you, the awful looks by Michael replaced by the desire pooling in you when your lover teasingly runs a hand between your thighs.

Again, it was fine. Everything was as it should be. Perfect.

But what came after? Not so much.

After you fell asleep, Sam carefully shuffled out of bed. She grabbed her dark cloak and Ghostface mask from the closet, running her fingers over the outlines of the eyes, sighing in relief. It felt good to pick up the mask again. Lately, she hasn’t been going out in the streets as much, having you to thank for that. As luck would have it, you gave her a mission (although inadvertently) at the same time the urge to kill became intolerable.

The job was easily done. Sam found Michael still at the party, waiting for the right moment. Michael went out the house, going for the alley since the bathroom was occupied. That’s when Sam made her move. Michael did not fight back, the alcohol in his veins dampening his ability to form coherent thoughts (assuming that he is better sober than he is drunk). Behind her mask, Sam was bursting with glee. Oh, how she missed it. There was nothing to compare to the feeling of excitement as you witness someone bleed out before you and the satisfaction that comes with it -- well, maybe nothing except you, her girl.

Sam opens the door to her room, anticipating your body still on the bed, sound asleep, but to her shock, you’re situated on the couch, both eyes on the bloodied mask in her hands.

“Sam, why is there blood on that?” Deep down, you knew the answer. You want to hear the confirmation first before you do anything that could potentially put your life in danger.

“I-it’s paint, baby. Tara’s got an art project for school. I-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. I’m not five. I know blood when I see it! That is blood!” You point out, frustrated. “And what kind of excuse is an art project?! My neighbor’s cat could make a better excuse.”

“Baby,” Sam’s tone is dangerously low as she stalks closer towards you. “I did it for for you -- for us. The way he was looking at you… I didn’t like it one bit, so I removed his eyes.”

You get up from your seat, going to the farthest corner in the room away from Sam. She does a gesture to signal that she’ll go towards you and you put a hand up in warning. “Stay the fuck away from me! You’re mad!”

“Oh, please. Don’t we all go a little mad sometimes?” She retorted, ignoring your protests.

You flinch from her touch when she touches the side of your face with crimson colored hands. “You’re sick, Sam. I’m calling the cops.”

“But I love you!” Sam yells, her voice breaking at the end. “Can’t you see? I did it for you.”

“You keep saying that, but do you really mean it? ‘Cause if you did this for me, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” You spat, punching her abdomen, followed by a kick to the stomach.

Sam doubles over, giving you an opportunity to run, to call the cops, to do something. “Honey, please. Let’s talk about this! I’m sorry, okay? You know how much I love you. Please stop this. You’re hurting me.”

“I am?” You question in dubiety. Sam is clutching her stomach, tears pouring like a water fountain. That’s the moment it hits you. “I am.” Letting your guard down, you run to Sam, clinging to her like a lifeline, your last chance. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

She shushes you, “Hey, it’s okay, I know.” You close your eyes shut as she presses a kiss to your temple. “I love you so much.”

You let her pull you in an embrace, holding your body tightly. How you love her so. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, saying those three words back. She did what was best for the both of you. Nothing can harm you ever again so long as you stay by her side.

“My perfect girl.” Sam whispers. “Do you trust me?”

There was no getting out of this. You’re in it for the long run now. “Trust is a tough thing to come by these days.” You sport a grin against her neck that vanishes quickly, for you don’t want Sam to recognize it. She thinks she has you wrapped around her finger, but she doesn’t know the truth of it. It may be like a game for her, but not for you.

It’s not game over.

Not yet.

#samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #scream #scream franchise

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uravitypng · 9 months

Text

𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

pairing: denki kaminari x reader, (hanta sero x reader)

word count: 4.5k

content warnings/things in part three: everyone is oblivious to everyone's feelings, jealous/needy denki, shopping at the beginning but i'm not specific on describing exactly what been brought just that it's slightly shorter than what the reader would typically buy, reader's social battery drains quickly, reader has some resentment towards jirou and only ever calls them jirou sfdhhsvjg, written with a chubby reader in mind (smut in later chapters/+18)

a/n: i hope you all enjoy part three, this is the longest part so far and i'm not really sure if i like all of it but i think i do! i'm so excited for the this series to carry on. let me all know what you think about this chapter!

i talk too much summery: it's terrible when you're in love with your best friend. it's terrible that he's in love with someone else.

<< previous | next >> | masterlist / polls for this chapter: 1st & 2nd

In a weeks time is the charity gala event that's held every year for heroes and if someone doesn't go it certainly looks bad on them. If they're not on patrol or wrapped up in hero work they should be there, especially if they're big names or retired big names. You may not be the number one hero but you're noticeable and you're a big enough name to make it a problem if you didn't turn up which is not the best for you. Every year is the same, spending hours picking and trying on outfits only to wear once, a smile plastered on your face all night that makes your cheeks hurt when you get home, heels so high you feel as tall as Mt Lady and this year is the same problem.

Denki already has a car hired to take you both to the event in case either of you want to drink and because he knows you walking so far in heels would likely be a disaster.

You've been fretting for days now about the gala, you still haven't brought a dress for the night and shopping for clothes really does not bode well for your self esteem. You prefer buying clothes online so you don't have to go to stores and try clothes on but sizes on websites can sometimes be wrong and they look different than advertised.

You know you shouldn't compare yourself to your friends and your colleagues but you can't help stop yourself, they spend so much money and time getting ready in comparison to you it makes you stand out when you think you don't look as good as them or you don't spend hours doing your hair. You care about your appearance at these events but they make your esteem plummet, you always think your friends look better than you, dress better than you and look more desirable than you.

Now you don't want to people to get the wrong idea, you don't really care about desirability, actually you care very little about it but it might make Denki do a double take for once, maybe he might even do a double take and make a flirtatious comment. That's the kind of desirability you want. You don't wish to become on a list of the hottest bachelorette pro heroes, if anything you want to only be considered 'hot' to a few people but to the rest of the world you want to be called something different, something other than desirable. You want to be called a pro hero who's amazing at her job, especially in away missions, a pro hero that if you hear a commotion and see a crime taking place down the road you spring right into action even if you're not on duty. Just referring to you as desirable would be a disservice.

But for some reason, with this gala, you agreed to let Mina help find you a dress and you're already regretting it as she calls you after she's finished work asking if you're ready to go shopping. You had no idea she wanted to go today and you were so close to cancelling. You couldn't help it, it's like being thrown into the deep end but not only can you not swim but you're also allergic to the water. Having no time to prepare to get in the right mindset to go shopping definitely put you on edge but you agree all the same knowing that you've got to get it over and done with and Mina might not accept the decision of you cancelling and drag you out anyway.

"Hey! Ready to go shopping?" Mina calls as she see's you.

"Not particularly."

She laughs at your reply, "that's my girl. Lets go! I have a couple styles in mind."

Mina's already brought what she's going to wear, she brought it months ago but when you asked for help she dropped every plan that she could possibly cancel to help you. You've never asked her or anyone else, for that matter, to help you shop for clothes before so she couldn't help but be excited at the prospect of helping you choose something amazing.

She has a plan in mind, something you're comfortable in, she loves you and she wants you to feel comfortable but she also wants you to feel confident. Luckily Mina still gives you some control of the situation, letting you decide the store. There's only a few shops around that cater to your size so you visit the one you like most.

Two hours later you're still in the dressing room, surrounded by expensive clothes that are mostly in black, because 'everyone looks good in black', as Mina keeps passing you new ones to try. You reluctantly stay until you find one. You like it, in fact you love it but if you said that out loud you might change your mind about it. It's slightly more fitted than the ones you typically go for and it shows slightly more skin. It's out of your comfort zone for sure and something you'd definitely not pick to wear without Mina but you're glad she came along.

Tonight's the night of the gala and Denki's waiting in the living room for you and he's so very close to knocking on your door to see if you're nearly ready but he knows that would not be a good idea, you'd be sour all night and would stay away from him so he waits as patiently as he can.

When you come out the room he's so very glad he didn't rush you. The dress you're wearing is different to what he's used to and what he expected you to wear. Seeing Denki's reaction but not recognising his look on his face you assume the worse and pull your dress down as low as you can. After seeing this Denki rushes out to reassure you, "you look lovely 'doll. You ready to go?" It's rare that Denki compliments specifically your appearance or outfits. Fiddling with your fingers and shifting from side to side you answer, "Thank you, Denks. You look lovely too. I'm ready, are you?"

Denki really does look nice. He's wearing a black notch lapel suit meaning the suit has a triangular shape V because of the sewing of the lapels into the collar of the jacket. He's not wearing a tie but he's wearing cufflinks, if you look close enough you can see that they're the ones you brought him when you all left UA, they're silver circles with a yellow lightning bolt on them.

He holds out his arm for you to take and with a cheeky smile on his face asks, "ready mademoiselle?"

Accepting his arm, "ready monsieur."

Arriving at the gala gives you other reasons why you dreaded it. This year there are more camera's outside than normal and you wonder why. It makes you anxious, you're use to the camera's you just don't like them. Denki places his hand on the small of your back and falls in step beside you, in doing so calming you down and giving you security. You dreaded the noise and how busy it was. You started scouting the hall, looking out for any of your friends, maybe even catch up with your old classmates.

"I found people, let's go." Still holding onto the small of your back he guides you through the crowd. You were already on edge with the surroundings and all those cameras but then your mood drops as you spotted where he was taking you both, right to Jirou. There was more than just Jirou there, but you knew that's why he's going over, not because Hanta's and Ejirou's over there, both of you see them all the time, and it's not because Yaomomo or Katsuki and Ochaco are over there either, it's for Jirou. He complimented you at the beginning of the night and your stomach fluttered with butterflies but now you'll have to watch him flirt all night with someone else, someone who neither of you have seen in so long so it's awful to think about how much he'll be talking to her and about her in the following weeks.

"Heyo," Hanta calls when he see's you, making you grin wide as he holds his hand up for you to high five.

You perk up at his anticts at high five him back, "Heyo."

There's a collection of greetings from everyone. Momo complimenting your dress and you saying back that Mina helped you, Uraraka saying she missed you as you hug her.

Bakugou saying he didn't he sees you all the fucking time, causing you to smack him lightly on the back of his head while grinning. "Don't be like that that Katsuki." He scowls at you and makes a dismissive sound before calling you a dumbass.

Denki exchanges pleasantries with everyone, you were too wrapped up in your conversation with Kiri and Hanta to even notice that he hadn't flirted or made any kind of comment towards Jirou at all.

"You look beautiful," Kiri says earnestly making your heart warm.

"Yes, you look very hot. I'm liking the dress." Hanta adds on.

You chuckle, "thank you Kiri and when did you become such a creep Han."

"I'm simply making an observation," Hanta replies causing you to try, and fail, at controlling your laughing volume sounding a lot louder than you intended to be.

Hanta looks good too, all your friends do.

Bakugou's wearing his hero costume colours in a suit, his hair slightly more tamed and he has pencilled eyeliner on his lash line like his mask, you'd put money that his publicist from the agency made him wear it all.

Most of your friends have gone with their hero costume colours with Ochaco wearing an all pink flowy dress that goes down to her ankles, Kiri wearing a suit similar to the one he wore at I-Expo, Momo a red fitted dress and Jirou wearing a longer dress catered to her aesthetic, but Hanta, well Hanta looked really good.

Hanta was wearing a cool dark grey tone unstructured blazer his dress shirt had the first button undone. How someone can look this good but keep it simple, classy and somewhat casual in formal wear is beyond you.

Denki watches you make conversation with Hanta and his jaw clenches as he wonders why you're talking to him when there's people you haven't seen in months or close to a year, yet you're choosing to talk to Sero who you saw earlier this week. Is this why you're wearing that dress? For him?

Denki wants your attention, wants you to focus your attention back on him. "I'm going to get us drinks. Do you want to come?"

You were about to decline but you feel him hold your wrist loosely in his hand and you look and see an expression on your face that you know too well, it's the look that he gives you when he wants you to agree with something so desperately. His 'puppy dog eyes' look. You don't speak for a second, all the background noise fades away as you try and understand why he wants you to come with him so bad and that's when you connect that he's standing next to Jirou and something might have happened or someone might have said something insensitive to him.

He pulls your hand a bit and lowers his voice, "please."

"Of course Denki," you nod. "I'll follow you anywhere," you tell him softly and honestly. Your heart starts racing as you realised what you said. You've said stuff like this to him before and you always mean it truthfully, you'll follow him anywhere. You'd follow him to the end of the world and knowing your luck it could happen. He can be so oblivious, like with how you truly feel towards him that he might not even notice he was at the end of the world until you pointed it out to him. You hope that Denki can't feel your pulse racing while he's holding onto you.

He doesn't notice, he's too relieved that you agreed to go with him, that you chose to go with him instead of staying with everyone else, instead of staying with Sero. "We're going to get drinks, we'll see you guys later." Before you can say your goodbyes he's gently but firmly pulling you to the bar. You want to make a joke about his haste to get away from the conversations everyone's having but you don't know if that would be appropriate with whatever he's feeling right now and with whatever happened.

He drags you to one of the stools and orders your favourite drink. "Are you okay Denki?"

"Just peachy," he didn't mean it to sound sarcastic, he didn't mean it to come out at all. He wanted to tell you that he's fine, to assure you that with you next to him he's having a good night but he's vexed and frustrated.

"Did...Did something happen Denks? With Jirou? Or... Um something else?" You wearily question.

He turns his head around to face you so quickly it's a wonder how he didn't get whiplash. "Why would something happen with Jirou?" He looks quizzically at you, having no idea why you're bringing her up.

You became equally confused as you see his expression. "I thought maybe something happened and you wanted to get away from her." You take a sip of your drink, using it as an excuse to look away from him.

"Nothing happened with Jirou or anyone. I just wanted to spend time with you," he says while running his hand through his hair, you look up just in time to see him and cuss him out in your head for looking so attractive.

If you were anyone else you would have asked him further questions but you're use to this by now, his confusing statements that always leave you wondering why he wants something. If you were anyone else you would have wondered why he didn't want to spend time with any of the others or spend time with Jirou, the girl he's mad about. Instead he wants to spend his time with you when he see's you every single day but by this point you're use to it. When he says random things and constantly wants your attention, really living up to the 'puppy dog eyes.'

"Let's live together."

"Are you sure you want to live with me Denki. I mean we've got enough money to buy our own places." he convinced you that living together would be the best decision you would ever make, it was.

You were tidying up the house one day when Denki came up behind you scaring you. "Come shopping with me." you put your hands on your hips and turn to face him.

"Now why on earth would I do that Denks, it's your turn to go shopping."

"It's no fun without you though." you agree but grumble about how it's his turn and you're going to both go together next time. he happily agrees like that was part of his plan all along.

you hear clutter in the living room as Denki's searching for all the takeout menu's. "let's order in tonight."

"I've got a date remember.

"Yeah I do but he's ugly and I'm better. Pizza?"

When you and Denki went to watch a film at the cinema, you run into Eijirou and you stopped to talk for awhile, arranging to all hang out later tonight as you were all free. Denki flicks your hand. "pay attention to me."

Denki casually tells you, "if we're not married by the time we're 40 we should get married," causing you to spit out your tea. "Two pros getting married will boost both our ratings up like crazy, the look on our parents faces when we tell it's a publicity stunt though will be interesting, pretty sure my parents like you better than they like me. Mina and Kirishima are planning to do the same thing."

"Bold of you to assume i'm going to make it 40." You chuckle.

You don't see the angry look on his face as replies, "you better."

You giggle, "you just can't live without someone paying attention to you every hour of every day." In a normal setting your heart would be bursting out of your chest but you knew he didn't mean what he said, it surprised you but after you got over the initial shock it was fine. He's just been listening to Kirishima too much. Plus both of your ratings are good enough as it is and there is already speculation of you both together.

"You'll stay with me right?" Denki takes a sip of his drink and looks hopeful at you.

"All night." You respond before stealing his drink and tasting it, scrunching your nose in disgust, "Denks, this is gross."

You stay together alone for the majority of the night at the bar before you decide it's probably in both your best interests to mingle. The whole time Denki stays attached to you, staying by your side.

It's now getting late and you start wondering if it would be appropriate for you to take your leave. The gala hasn't ended but it could be on all night for all you know. You've seen some heroes leave but Denki's next to you smirking at a joke Mic said and you have a feeling this is going to be a long night.

You're trying to keep up with everyone, with Denki, but it's hard with your social battery draining. You excuse yourself from the conversation to go to the bathroom, although it's just an excuse for you to take a deep breath and be away from all the noise and chatter.

After a couple minutes you head back out of the bathroom and go out to find Denki when you hear Hanta calling your name. Before you can comprehend what you're doing your legs walk and you go to Hanta. He's standing on his own which is surprising, due to the charismatic and social butterfly he is.

"You look tired."

"Gee, thanks Hanta. Did you call me over just to say that?"

"Oh snappy aren't you? I didn't mean it as a bad thing, I promise. I'm just surprised you're still here that's all."

"Well I'm surprised you're here alone." You reply, you know you're being short with him but you're just so drained and it feels like he's teasing you.

He doesn't take any offence to your tone and short replies.

"Actually I was with Midoriya but I left when I saw you to come talk to you."

"Oh." you mumble.

"You look super drained, why haven't you gone home yet?" He questions gently as to try and let you know he's coming from a place of caring and he's not teasing you.

"Denki's having fun." You nod your head to where he is, where he's animatedly telling a story to Hawks.

"Hmmm, do you want me to take you home." Sero leans closer to you. He's so tuned in on your feelings and your needs, he always just knows.

You look up to see him softly smiling at you, "you look really nice tonight Hanta."

He chuckles and pulls you closer so you're leaning against him. "Thank you pretty girl, but that's not what i asked is it?" he strokes your knuckles with his thumb as he mumbles under his breath about how you're too tired.

"You really would take me home Han? You're having a good time though." you ask quietly, not sure if you want to go home but if you were more awake and socially aware you'd be calling Hanta your saviour right now for the offer.

"You're more important. If you want me to take you home I will."

Neither of you are aware but you're being watched, if Denki saw you he'd come marching up and drag you away but he's so invested in the conversation he's having that he doesn't know where you are. The people who do see however are Katsuki, Mina and Kiri and that's not the best people to see because right now Mina is jumping to every possible conclusion.

Mina may be the worst person to see this innocent act other than Denki but at the same time Kirishima is hardly any better as he's thinking about every interaction he's seen you two have together and every word you've spoken about each other. Katsuki is the one telling Mina to 'leave it alone', 'it's not a big deal', 'it's probably nothing' and to 'forget about it'. He makes a quick glance around the room trying to spot Kaminari. He knew you and Sero were close but not this close. He thought that you and Kaminari have been dating for years and have been lying to everyone who asks about it. Dating as a pro was hard so he just assumed you two kept it super under the radar from everyone, including your friends. He never pushed either of you on the subject.

"Bakugou, there's no way there isn't something going between those two! Of course it's a big deal and of course I'm going to talk about it! Do you think they're dating or that they're just into each other?" Mina whispers loudly and excitedly. "Oh my god! She asked me to help her buy a dress, do you think that was because of Sero?" She directs the question to Kirishima knowing that they live close together and he's more likely to entertain her questions.

He doesn't want to get involved in you and Sero's relationship, it wouldn't be manly of him but he does wonder why neither of you have never mentioned anything to him before. He thinks about Kaminari and how it gives him a weird feeling. By the way you're leaning against each other now right now and talking close so that only each other can hear he has to admit it that it does look rather intimate.

"Don't forget guys, they're both always very touchy with people, not just with other." He's trying to rationalise it and you do always touch Kaminari and fall asleep on Sero and hug Mina, but when Sero leans down closer to talk to you it puts Bakugou and Kirishima on edge, Mina is ecstatic for her friends but Bakugou and Kirishima are now hyper-aware that Kaminari is in the room.

You look around the room trying to find Denki. "Want to wait for Denki."

Hanta straightens his posture and takes a deep breath but you're none the wiser. "Are you sure? He might be here for hours. I don't want you to collapse out of exhaustion."

"I'm sure Han," you whisper. "I'll.. I'll, wait for him. He shouldn't be too long. Thank you though, you're the best."

Right on cue, Denki turns around and looks at you, his eyes hardens when he see that you leaning against Hanta but as soon as you see him you beam from ear to ear, softening Denki's gaze. He excuses himself from the conversation he's having and starts to go over to you. Hanta noticed Denki, "I think Kaminari might take you home, he looks pretty displeased right now."

You giggle, "he's been a bit more protective of late. I think it's because our patrol times have been different and we haven't seen each other much. Hopefully soon it will be back to normal."

"Hey 'doll, hey Sero. What are you guys up to?"

You move off of Hanta, "can we go home soon Denki, 'm tired."

Denki's heart nearly breaks as he see's how drained you are and how drained you must have been for ages. "I'm sorry babydoll, I've been so wrapped up talking to everyone. I promise I'll make it up to you, let's go home yeah?" you nod your head and wave bye to Hanta.

Denki knows he should probably say goodbye to everyone individually but right now all he cares about is getting you back home. "Can you tell everyone we left and said bye Hanta," Denki requests.

"Sure thing dude. See you guys later, get home safe."

Denki holds your hand and intertwines your fingers with his before guiding you out.

The three onlookers were still watching the interaction, all with their drinks in their hand with Bakugou and Kirishima breathing a sigh of relief, when, from the distance it looked like everything was okay between Kaminari and Sero.

"Do you think she loves him?" Mina asks as she watches you follow Denki.

"Who?" Kirishima observes you leave.

"Kaminari." Mina responds having not taken her eyes off you since you started making your way to the door.

"Leave it raccoon eyes."

"it's just a question Bakugou." Mina retorts.

Kirishima sighs as he answers, "it's not any of our business Mina."

"They're our friends Kirishima."

"Yes and because of that we're staying out of it." As they were watching they were caught by Sero, making accidental eye contact with him. Everyone quickly looks away.

Denki takes you home and on the way he keeps apologising. "Please don't say sorry Denks." You squeeze his hand that you're still holding.

He turns to you and moves some of your hair out of the way of your face and delicately tucks it behind your ear, "'doll I am so sorry, and I need to apologise. I should have been more aware and have been making sure you're okay. I know how quickly your social battery drains, especially compared to mine, I should of been checking up on you," he's looking you in the eye, you think he must be tired too because his eyes are slightly watery. He presses your foreheads together and says so quietly it's a surprise you even heard him apoligise again, "I'm sorry."

You keep the same energy as he does and keep your foreheads together still touching, "it's okay Denki, I promise. You're here now. Plus Hanta was making sure I was okay."

Denki changes position and turns his head away from you, "yeah, but it should have been me."

Come the following morning Kirishima and Mina have completely forgot the conversation they had the previous, they had too much to drink and their memory of the end of the night is fuzzy only remembering pieces. Bakugou didn't drink at all, he remembers everything. He won't say anything to anyone.

You wake up to Denki entering your room with a tray and a huge gleeful grin on his face, "breakfast in bed! Made just for you." You rub your eyes slowly waking up, "I let you sleep in but I'm off today and so are you, so I thought we could spend the day together."

You groan, "five more minutes."

"I thought you'd say that," Denki chuckles and places the tray on your bedside table, "budge up, if you're going back to bed, I'm waiting here until you do." You groan as you make room for him. If you were more awake you would be internally screaming that Denki Kaminari, your best friend and the man you love is currently sitting next to you in bed but you're already half asleep.

tag list: @xnorthstar3x @st4r-girl-official @potatoboiasta

(everyone in my tag list that wanted to be tagged disappeared? i think they deleted their accounts or something, if i find them i'll tag them, let me know if you want to added to my tag list! )

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cemeteryspider · 2 months

Text

Dearie~ Part 3

Alastor x Singer! Reader

Summary: You and Alastor are reunited, that doesn't come without consequences.

Trigger Warnings: Violence, gore, blood, injury, manipulation, emotional distress, abuse, physical restraints

Word Count: 1638

Previous | Next

Vox left you with Velvette to try on outfits for the show and to get ready for the runway you would walk later today. Velvette was not in the mood to take any shit, so Vox knew you would be on your best behavior while you were with her. You had been on the receiving end of Velvette's show day tantrums many times before.

Walking up the stairs to Valentino's room he recognized shouting and many things, most likely expensive things, breaking. Taking a deep breath he opened the doors to see Val seething. The air in Valentino's room hung heavy with the acrid scent of demon rage, shattered glass crunching beneath Vox's shoes as he entered. It turns out Angel Dust was at some hotel, and Val wanted to go after him himself.

After Valentino was coaxed off that precipice of fury, an uneasy calm settled over the room.

"There's someone else at that hotel, whatever it's called, Hazbin Hotel" A glitch crossed Vox's face when he heard the word. Something he taunted Alastor with a long time ago. He regained his composure quickly.

"What, someone who owes you money?"

"Someone who owes us a lot more than money... the Radio Demon"

In that moment, Vox's composure shattered like glass, a buffering error adorned his screen momentarily before showing off a darkened expression.

"How in the infernal realms is he back? It's impossible." Vox's mind raced, the return of the Radio Demon dredging up memories and fears he thought were buried.

"Maybe not because no one has gotten involved yet"

"What does this mean for us, Val?"

"It means that maybe we SHOULD send a message after all"

~~~

A simmering inferno surged within Alastor, threatening to engulf every fiber of his demonic essence as he inspected his Darling in chains. His Darling was displayed on every single screen across town. Velvette's newest lingerie, a silk veil of temptation, clung to her form. The worst part is the chains around her wrists and throat held by none other than Vox himself.

Vox's smile flickered like a dying ember, a harbinger of the storm that loomed within. Vox knew he was back in town and would do anything to get under his skin. The Radio Demon had to plan his next steps very carefully so as to not get his Darling hurt anymore than this silly picture show campaign already has.

Others have seemed to notice the provocative ads. Lesser demons took pictures like they were in fear that somehow they would never be able to see them again. Little did they know Vox would never allow that to happen.

~~~

"See sweet thing, was that so hard?"

Vox smiled at her place on the ground. Her body was covered in bruises from the hellish chains wrapped around her body. Valentino clapped from his director's chair.

"Look at you! You would look so good in my next movie, Dollface!"

Vox's gaze snapped upward, a storm of anger and defiance brewing in his crimson eyes.

"Valentino, that was not the deal. This is the only public ad campaign that she will do for you and Velvette's line currently. Until I say otherwise! Is that clear Val dearest"

Val nodded, his eyes rolling with a theatrical flourish, "Well, I must be going, other things to do and all that. Tata"

Val left the studio leaving you and Vox alone in the room together. The chains dissipated and you were left to sit up on your own accord.

"What would you say to dinner, Sugar?"

~~~

Alastor did his best to keep tabs on you, but Vox's security made it incredibly difficult. Not impossible however.

"Hello, Angel, how are you on this hellish day?"

"Heaven, Smiles what do you want"

"I was wondering if you had any idea what Vox wants with this dame?"

It took nearly all of his strength not to call you his, in that moment, but nothing could jeopardize getting you home and safe at this point.

"Her? Oh Vox's plaything... all I saw was her leavin' the studio with him. She had this look in her eyes. Nothing good when it comes to the Vees that's for sure"

"Any ideas on where they were going?"

"Vox was talking to some lady about a reservation. Something fancy I assume, Rosie's something"

With that little bit of knowledge Alastor made his way to Cannibal Town.

~~~

"Why did you wanna come here, Sug, this place is not quite your scene"

"Just a place I used to frequent"

You played aloof. Vox didn't know about your ties to Rosie, and if you played your cards right Rosie would understand the dire situation and get Alastor down here swiftly.

"Well I suppose coming here one last time wouldn't hurt, ay"

Your brows furrowed together and you silently wished this wouldn't be your last time here. After all, you and Rosie were practically inseparable before the deal went down.

The server made eye contact with you and recognized you immediately. Quickly the cannibal scurried off, with all the hope in your black heart to find Rosie.

Without a minute going by Rosie made her way over to your table. Luckily Vox was rambling on about some sort of angelic security and hardly noticed your lack of a response.

"Hello Darlings, I don't think I've had such overlords grace one of my tables in quite a while, hm"

Her eyes darted towards you after addressing the first comment to Vox. She scanned your body and quickly found the many dark marks marring your frail flesh.

"Yeah well, Dearest here wanted to see this place again. Must have some good food"

"Yes well, I like to think so, what can I do for you"

"Whatever she'd like, I'll stick with the... atmosphere"

He started to tap away on his phone. Probably firing someone for a poor job. Better that then in person.

"The usual please, Rosie"

"Of course dear, it'll be done in a jiff"

With a swift motion, she darted off to the kitchen. As the door closed, you released a small, relieved sigh.

With Vox's back towards the door he didn't even notice Alastor waltz in. Once he made eye contact with you he made a show of walking into the back. The very lounge that you had shared so many cups of tea and spilled so much more.

"Vox, I really must go use the ladies room"

"Don't be long, don't want to send a search party"

He chuckled but the look on his face told a completely different story. If you try to run away there will be consequences.

Calmly you stood up as Vox went back to his phone furiously tapping away. You rushed to the back room where Alastor had just walked into and closed the door quietly behind you.

"Oh, mi amor, what have they done to you?"

His arms wrapped around you and you allowed yourself a moment of real vulnerability you haven't felt since Alastor left town.

"Oh Darling, how happy I am to see you. I've missed you so"

You knew you only had a few minutes together before you would have to go, but you savored this time.

Words spoken and unspoken drifted between the two of you before a familiar chain wrapped itself around your throat, and pulled you back from Alastor.

Regaining his composure he tried to help you when the door burst open to reveal Vox. Rosie was on the floor behind him, a pink handprint visible across her cheek and an immense look of sadness across her features.

"I should have known. To think I was doing something nice for you, and you t̴͊͜u̷͕̅ȓ̶̠ṅ̷̖ ̶̩̄a̸̼͋g̴̱̓a̶̙̾ḭ̷̓ṅ̴̜s̸̥̐t̷̅͜ ̵͙̉m̵͖͠ē̸͉ ̶̭͝"

The chain shortens until your throat is encased in Vox's fist. Alastor goes to summon his tentacles, but Vox just tuts reminding him of the deal.

"Allie, my dear, she's in capable hands," Vox taunted, his fingers tightening, suffocating breath and igniting tears in your eyes.

Alastor's mind raced, a tempest of thoughts seeking an escape route from this infernal contract. His beloved was caught in the crossfire of their shared history, a pawn in Vox's grand play. The radio waves that once echoed with whimsical tunes now crackled with tension, mirroring the turmoil within the Radio Demon's heart.

Yet, within this maelstrom of despair, a spark of defiance flickered. Alastor's gaze met Vox's with an unwavering intensity, a silent promise that echoed through the tangled threads of their shared past.

"Leave, Al, and I will make the punishment merciful" Vox's voice dripped with disdain, each word carefully enunciated as if savoring the bitterness.

The silence stretched, a taut thread ready to snap, as Alastor and Vox locked eyes. The weight of their shared history hung in the air, a storm waiting to break.

Aware of the impending defeat, Alastor retreated, vengeance echoing in his mind, a dormant storm waiting for the right moment to strike.

~~~

As he walked the dimly lit streets of the damned city, Alastor's steps were heavy with the weight of uncertainty, his once confident stride now faltering with doubt. The neon lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows that danced along the cobblestone pavement, mirroring the disarray within his own fractured psyche.

The air hung heavy with the weight of his decision, a silent acknowledgment of defeat that reverberated through the empty streets like a funeral dirge. Yet, amidst the despair, a spark of defiance flickered, a stubborn refusal to surrender to the whims of fate.

For as long as there was breath in his lungs and fire in his soul, Alastor vowed to fight, to defy the shackles of fate and reclaim what was rightfully his. His Darling deserved better than to be a pawn in Vox's twisted game, a mere puppet dancing to the whims of a malevolent puppeteer.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hellaverse #alastor #hazbin #valentino #vox #hazbin hotel vees #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel 2024

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shalotttower · 2 months

Text

Cultivating Flowers

Title: Cultivating Flowers

Fandom: Original

Summary: Marquis is a man of many interests, including gardening. Specifically, his new roses.

Word count: 3500+

Characters: OC!Marquis x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere!OC, manipulation, animal cruelty (not detailed, briefly described), seduction.

The first bloom appears two weeks after spring starts and it's the most glorious flower in all Marquis' garden. Gentle apricot color, like your favourite dress. You were saving for months — a whole autumn — and grandfather grumbled and grumbled about the frivolous waste of money, but once you finally put it on, his scolding didn't matter a bit. The dress made you feel like royalty — elegant, graceful, important.

You wonder if this is how Marquis feels all the time.

Gorgeous outfits, a splendid castle, a life of aristocracy and ease where everything is taken care of by servants and every other weekend there's an opulent dinner party full of refined conversations.

Your envy for him is almost as big as your caution.

Marquis Nicolae is rich. Like many rich people he possesses time. And when one has too much, they become terribly, infinitely bored. That's what grandfather told you in one of his drunken rants: people who are rich, castle-rich, private carriage-rich for generations are bored like nobody else, because nothing is scarce to them and so nothing is precious either. Work for them. Take their money. Keep your head low and remember — they don't see us like we see them.

Grandfather doesn't work in the castle anymore. He's got old hands which shake from years of physical labour and fruit brandy, back-aching hunched posture and swollen feet that need rest. Now he stays at home, waiting for you to return with stories and bread rolls baked by the cook.

He used to serve Marquis Nicolae's father, who was twice as rich, but thrice as wicked, according to grandfather's words.

"I was a stableman, your grandmother was a seamstress, God rest her soul. Sewed all my shirts, this one included," he tugs at the fabric with pride. "She did well on it... Look at those stitches."

For a moment he gets lost in muttering and rubs his index finger on an even patch of stitched fabric, as if hoping his touch can conjure a spectre. "Not like now, where clothes fall apart after just three seasons. Quality... Sturdiness," he smacks the table. "People used to think long term. Made their shirts for decades, strong like this."

Grandfather is forgetful these days, he leaps from one topic to another and loses the main line of thought, especially after a few glasses. But you wait.

"When I worked for Lord Cazimir, you see," he says finally. "He had horses, all strong, sleek, looked like jewels. A new horse each two months, said it wasn't right for a gentleman to have one for too long, but by God, I never saw a man treat them worse than him. Not enough sleep, ridden until bones hurt. If the carriage hit a stone, it was the horse's fault, if the reins got tangled it was the horse's fault, not the bloody driver. He had that whip with metal feathers which could cut through an apple. And before he made the last swish, he'd pause. Look the horse in the eyes. That was the scariest thing, how he stared at them, so calmly."

He glances at you, as if fearing an admonishment. For what? You wonder how it felt, caring for something that looked like a jewel time after time, after time, and knowing the goodbye was certain and inevitable, like a turn of a watermill wheel. Did grandfather mourn the horses? Or did he get used to burying their bodies under the soil? Maybe they fed someone later — people who don't have much are resourceful, they don't bury good meat.

You squeeze the water from the sheet in silence.

"None simply lived past two months, that's why he changed them so often."

"Why didn't you quit?"

"And then do what?" Grandfather snorts. "There was little job outside the castle, everyone who didn't have land or livestock worked for Marquis one way or another."

"It must have been difficult."

"Life is difficult," he answers, and you can't disagree.

Life is difficult, that's a fact, and it didn't get better when you started working for Marquis Nicolae yourself. A good thing is that unlike Lord Cazimir from scare stories he doesn't torment horses and rarely pays attention to anybody in a servant uniform. All of you share the same mindset: a quick "Good morning, m'lord" or "Have a pleasant day, m'lord" and then being gone as fast as possible.

Rumors circulate that Marquis never once had a full smile on his face. Charming chuckles when he's in a good mood, courtly lips stretches for ladies, bemused sneers when he's addressed by those who used to be in favour but now are out — yes, but the genuine and full-hearted joy: nobody has witnessed it.

He doesn't seem unhappy though, nor he is too serious. When you see him Marquis Nicolae always looks like he has eternity at hand and there's no hurry to spend it. To you, he is uninterested in anything and sharp about everything at once.

You can't describe him better. Words fail you when trying to fit him into boxes of easy understanding. But after all, it's not your job to fit him anywhere, your job is dusting shelves and scrubbing floors, and, since recent days — taking care of roses.

It's unusual for the castle to have such plants this early in spring. They're imported, said the gardener, from cooler places and prefer winter over the blooming season of May and June. That's why Marquis commissioned a greenhouse construction weeks prior, to have beautiful flowers which can bloom regardless of the weather. It took an entire month of hard work, people hired from nearby towns and a promise of good money. You watched them build from the kitchen window where you were helping with meals.

Roses arrived next. Seven bushes filled with buds ready to open up any day. And oh they did. Soft apricot colors covered stems like dewdrops, beautiful enough to make one gasp.

One morning you bring your rag and a bucket to the greenhouse a bit earlier to enjoy the fragrance before breakfast is served. Nice things like these are not for maids like you — the petal scent and the gentle touch of leaves — they're for ladies in beautiful dresses who have time and luxury to appreciate them, but nobody will know anyway if you stop to lean down close enough for your nose to almost bury itself in velvety softness. It's a small indulgence which can hardly hurt anyone. Nobody will know if you pretend to be a lady just for a minute.

"They're quite extraordinary, aren't they."

You freeze, nose in the middle of the rose bush.

"I- Yes", you straighten up and curtsy. "They are most beautiful, m'lord."

Marquis' figure, backlit by the morning sun, casts a shadow which stretches far beyond your own feet.

"Do you know why I chose it?" he asks. "This breed."

He's dressed in a dark waistcoat with delicate embroidery on the collar and doesn't have a single hair out of place, not a strand too thick, not a strand too thin; as flawless as a painting which hang on the walls of his library, but not as solemn. Those paintings seem to measure everyone around them. Marquis Nicolae looks more approachable in appearance, and that's where the approachability ends. His eyes, burgundy brown colour you've never seen before, measure people too, in value rather than worthlessness.

You shake your head, "No, m'lord."

"Because," Marquis continues without minding your answer at all, "it's pretty."

His lips stretch in a courtly smile of a gentleman who is amused by his own joke. You don't understand it but smile in return anyway, because you must. Because this is how the world works — nobles are amused and maids fake understanding so the amusement can persist a little longer.

"Go on," he says. "They are meant to be smelled after all."

You nod and curtsy again.

Later he will be served tea at the ornate greenhouse table while you scrub the floors until your fingers ache. Marquis' focus will shift towards letters, and this is how it's supposed to be. Him reading correspondence, you being invisible like dust under the shelves you clean. It feels better when he doesn't look at you with those eyes of his. They pierce through everything they see.

There's something wrong about him. But you can't tell what yet.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Life is monotonous, especially in a place like this, even banquets and events have that homogeneous taste, because there's at least one every three weeks, not speaking of brunches which rotate regularly depending on who's currently in Marquis' favour. You serve dishes full of rich fragrances that make your mouth water but can't ever dream of trying them. Meat dripping with wine sauce, roasted chicken breasts wrapped in crispy bacon and glazed with honey syrup. Fresh fruits coated in powdered sugar. Sometimes in the evening when everyone is asleep you mouth the names of those meals: "Beef Bourguignon," "Veal Piccata", "Chicken Florentine". Those foreign words are hard to pronounce — Beef Boo-gee-nyon, Veel Pick-kata — you do it quietly and mostly in your head so grandfather doesn't hear and scoff about wasting time on useless things.

"You're not starving," he would say. "There's bread, there's soup, you don't need those. Be happy, girl. We used to eat potatoes for months straight during famines."

You've never been hungry enough to know what famine tastes like but suspect that the flavor must be something similar to the dull feeling between the busy hours of work, which gnaws at you and makes your thoughts drift to the lunch break.

Sometimes, in a particularly sour mood he adds, "Don't stuff your head with fancy nonsense you can't have, it's only gonna make you bitter."

True.

You're a maid. A girl. A nobody.

And this is how it's supposed to be.

How to tell grandfather that you don't wish to be fancy? Just to try once the roast duck stuffed with grapes and apples, or fresh sardines baked in butter sauce, which smell heavenly as they're carried up the stairs to Marquis Nicolae's salon where guests are gathered.

How to tell him that it's not about food, not really.

It's about knowing what an apricot rose smells like early in the morning while others sleep. How velvety its petals feel when touched. Delicate things like these you're not supposed to have, but do anyway, because a moment stolen out of monotony pulls you from beneath the apron. You, yourself, not just a pair of hands with tired fingers, exist briefly when roses bloom in Marquis' greenhouse and a little piece of yesterday's cake is smuggled into your pocket.

You understand why he's wary. Grandfather's right: with longing comes bitterness. But you're careful not to overdo it. There's only one stolen minute of appreciation each day, not more, so you remember who you are — someone meant to be seen rarely and unnoticed most of the time — and return behind the apron.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Spring goes on.

Daylight stretches a little longer. Ground gets a little warmer. Marquis Nicolae often spends time in his private study after breakfast, then at noon — in the greenhouse. He strolls there among the greenery or sits by one of the tables with a book. Reading seems to be an activity he favors, and unlike some other gentlemen who grow tired within pages Marquis can stay completely still for hours without once getting restless.

You know because you watch him from the corner of your eye.

What kind of books he likes to read if they manage to keep him entertained for such lengthy periods, what titles do those leather spines hide, which stories are good enough for a gentleman like Marquis? He always seems so politely disinterested. You wonder if there are books that can make even him laugh.

Sometimes he asks you questions which startle you.

"Have you read 'The Castle of the Lady'? It's a novel."

You shake your head. "No m'lord. I can't read."

His eyebrows raise. Not in astonishment, Marquis Nicolae has a face of a man who rarely encounters surprises, his reactions are akin to mild interest bordering on curiosity, as if he enjoys discovering something new, something that doesn't fit into his existing assumptions.

"Can't?" he repeats.

You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, "No, m'lord. Never learnt."

"Who raised you?"

"My grandfather. He's a stableman... was. Now retired".

"I see," he returns to his book.

You fidget with a rag in your hands, why does he care to ask such question? What difference does it make whether you read or don't? It's not that uncommon. Most servants only know the basics, letters which form their names and the ones that stand for numbers. You don't really need the skill. What for?

"You may continue," he adds.

So you do.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"Are you the only child?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Your mother? Father?"

"My mother passed away giving birth to me, and father was a soldier, so he died in a war."

"What a shame," Marquis says, but it sounds like a comment on bad weather.

You're standing with fresh linens in his opulent bedchamber. It's spacious: tall windows and furniture made of rare wood. Old, like the walls of Albastru castle itself. A maid's life story is neither interesting nor important enough to pursue it, at least not in the place like this. Marquis Nicolae is bored, that's the most reasonable explanation to the current arrangement. He's looking for entertainment, but what entertainment can come at your expense, you're unsure.

Grandfather warned you not to draw too much attention, but it's not exactly your fault. Marquis' schedule is well known — he spends evenings in the salon and retires long past midnight. The chamber should've been empty. You should've been able to change his bedding, clean the fireplace and leave without as much as a sound.

Yet here he is, in a high armchair by the fireplace.

And here you are, in front of him, waiting for a dismissal that doesn't come.

On a small coffee table there're squares with simple pictures — a dog, a cat, an apple, made of thin wood with letters engraved in black ink. You step from one foot to the other, the lemon-scented sheets hide the way your fingers twitch.

Marquis traces a square with a rose.

"Sit down," he says and motions to the other chair.

"Your linens, m'lord-"

"They can wait."

No, they can't, you think. The bedding needs to be done, the fireplace cleaned, carpets swept, wilted flowers removed — there's so much to do to linger, and it's already getting late. If you're not able to finish on time-

But Marquis Nicolae didn't give you permission to leave.

You sit and put the linens on your lap.

Grandfather would say that Marquis enjoys the sight of your discomfort behind that courtly smile of his, but he doesn't look amused, he looks the usual. Calm and slightly disinterested. Sharp, despite being relaxed.

"If you figure out what letters stand from this," he points at the apple picture square, "to this one," then moves his finger to the picture with a goat, "you'll get a treat."

"M'lord?" you frown.

There must be something wrong with your hearing, but no, Marquis leans back and crosses his long legs. "A treat."

Treats are for children, treats are for dogs, treats are for horses who are obedient and look like jewels. You stare at him, puzzled, but try not to let it show; nobles have strange hobbies sometimes: races which cost thousands of gold coins for one bet alone, hunting dangerous animals, forcing their servants into duels to pass time. This must be one of those, an entertainment beyond your comprehension.

Still, time is moving forward and the complexity of your situation is becoming more apparent with every passing second; you've never felt particularly powerful — why would you? — but now you're acutely aware of how fragile one's position is when it depends on someone else's whims.

You take the first picture.

An apple. Letter A. Then a ball — B. Cat... So that's what they look like written down.

Marquis' eyes follow your fingers as they slide across the wooden squares, you feel his gaze like a touch, even though there's a coffee table distance between you and a bit more. You quietly mouth each word and letter by habit, unaware of this little detail. His eyebrows raise, this time with a hint of amusement which you don't see, too focused on your predicament.

Dog — D.

The clock is ticking.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"Well?" Marquis asks later when shadows cross the room. The sun is gone, the fire in the fireplace burns lower but bright enough to illuminate the space. Sitting like this has given you a headache which makes thinking harder.

"I have them figured out m'lord", you say carefully.

"Tell me then."

"This is A," you slide the apple towards him across the table. It feels a little silly. "This is B."

The way you say them isn't quite accurate. It's "bee" instead of "b" and "dee" instead of "d", but he doesn't tell you that. Your voice goes quieter with each following letter, perhaps because you're nervous or maybe simply tired — who knows what time it is by now? Ah, quarter to ten. He watches you struggle with spelling and pronunciation until finally there they are. All squares from Apple to Goat, in order just like he arranged them.

"What about this one?" Nicolae points to the playing cat.

"It starts with 'K', m'lord."

You're quite sure, not that much variation is left after all, and say it with the most conviction you can muster so he would finally be satisfied and end this odd game. Your head hurts and stomach grumbles with hunger — there was no time for the lunchbreak today —both physical and mental exhaustion blur together.

Grandfather must be worried sick by now, he hates when you're late without telling anything beforehand.

Then Marquis covers his mouth, and for the first time since you entered Albastru castle, laughs.

Not chuckles. Not smiles without smiling. Laughs that his shoulders shake, that his eyes crinkle at the corners. You stare bewildered, not knowing what to do. Laugh yourself? Smile politely? Say "m'lord" again?

Marquis' laughter dies down eventually and he collects himself, straightening his waistcoat which doesn't require any adjusting in the first place, he's perfect as always.

"No, that's C."

Your cheeks flush red, how were you supposed to know? It would seem that a gentleman such as Marquis Nicolae should know better than mocking someone's lack of education, but apparently he finds it amusing. You lower your gaze and look away.

"How are you called?" he asks.

After a pause your name rolls off your tongue; small in his bedchamber, it barely leaves an echo.

"Well, I said a treat, didn't I?"

You don't want any treats, or to spend here even a minute longer; Marquis rises and walks towards his desk.

"Come here."

Reluctantly you stand up and follow him. The linens are left on the chair in a crumpled pile, they need ironing now. There's nothing to do other than obeying so you stop next to him where he opens one of the drawers. Inside you can see something wrapped in white paper with a thin ribbon bow around it. He takes the item out and pulls the ribbon off. Delicate scent fills the air, the little cakes, you know their name from the cook ─ macarons ─ bloom inside the wrapping.

Marquis Nicolae picks one up with two fingers and brings it to your lips.

The macarons smell sweet like almonds and look beautiful like roses in his greenhouse. They're not for maids, you think, no, this is...he shouldn't be doing that.

Your mouth waters anyway.

His eyes don't leave your face, "Do you want it or not?"

You do.

"Then take a bite."

The dessert melts in your mouth instantly. Its texture is soft, like petals, like everything else luxurious you've never had but imagined countless times. A little chewy, a bit crunchy, it's the most delicious thing you've tried, better than a piece of cake taken from the kitchen pantry, better than honeyed walnut bread.

"Another one?"

Marquis Nicolae feeds you two more, before you realize what exactly is happening — a bite by a small bite your dignity dissolves into his hand. You swallow the last morsel and quickly step back; you've forgotten yourself, forgot who you were and where, and now there's sweetness lingering on your tongue, while Marquise' fingertips smell faintly of apricot.

What have you done?

He looks amused again.

"Thank you, m'lord," you curtsy, then turn around to gather the discarded sheets.

"Clean the fireplace and change the linens. Then you might be free."

"Yes, m'lord."

It's a dismissal at last.

Marquis sits down and reaches for a book — he's done with you it seems — so you hurry to complete the assigned tasks. The fireplace isn't too dirty fortunately, just some ashes and coal leftovers. Next, the sheets, then the flowers.

Before you close the door and rush down the empty hall he speaks again, "If you still remember them all by tomorrow evening, you'll have another treat."

#shalott fanfiction #yandere #original character #original work #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

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shesnotaposer · 2 years

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 || 𝐧. 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

pairing: natasha romanoff x female reader

warning: minors dni (it's not like i can stop you. but keep in mind that you're responsible for your media consumption so be responsible), smut, roles; dom!natasha & brattysub!reader, semi-public sex, curse words, teasing, kinks; mommy kink | very slight praise kink | very slight degradation kink | choking kink | hair pulling, rough, large age gap; natasha is 37 and reader is 22

summary: you haven't seen natasha in a week. after being forbidden to relieve yourself during her time away, you refuse to give her the satisfaction of doing what she wants with you without a little show

a/n: NOBODY REMEMBERS ME, I KNOW. but who 9 months later, i'm back! i got pregnant and had to give birth. it was hard, it hurts, except it doesn't because i'm playing. but anyways, i've missed everyone, i'm going to write a lot of angst after this because why not

tony likes to throw parties. he used to throw extravagant monthly parties in the compound until the security of the place failed him, and the compound was infiltrated by a minor agency under hydra. ironic, isn't it? you'd think the avengers would have the best security in the world, especially with the literal owner of stark industries being your leader, but nope. when you live in a giant building full of superheroes, you forget you even need security. or that you need a strong one.

so instead of extravagant monthly parties (that the entire team against after the whole infiltration thing), tony now throws an "avenger weekend out" every month where he arranges something for the avengers to do together.

just 2 months ago, he booked the entire team a trip to dubai that you didn't really get to see much of. you and your girlfriend were quick to disappear into your hotel room and you didn't come out until the weekend was over. and by then you were limping.

this time, it's a trip to vegas.

he booked a fancy restaurant for the whole team. he gave tonight a little twist by sending stylists to everyone's rooms so everyone can look their best (the entire team knows that he only did that to stop bucky from wearing a t-shirt to fancy places but who is anyone to complain).

after a long time of trying to pick an outfit—which you had racks and racks of in your room courtesy of tony and his money—you've finally settled on a beautiful black silk dress with your cleavage propped up and exposed, you hair in an updo, and your body in the arms of someone who is not your girlfriend.

you had just arrived—fashionably late as always, and then you saw natasha. you knew she was coming. she was on a mission and had to come separately, dropping by at the compound first when you had already left.

she was gone for a week. and the entire time, you had been nothing but a good girl. you didn't touch yourself. you didn't send her a naughty picture. you didn't look at porn. because no matter how much you begged her to let you, she wouldn't. she knew how frustrated you are. but you don't want to give her the satisfaction of just doing everything she wants with you when she didn't let you do what you want. at least, not yet. you like your little games and your little shows.

so when a flare of jealousy swirls within her green eyes after you'd entered in the arms of wanda maximoff, making sure to greet everyone with a kiss on the cheek as the men especially welcomed you standing up, you knew she doesn't know your play. you sat across from her, not beside, and you can feel everyone's eyes wander from you and onto the empty spot next to natasha.

you only ever took it as far as sending her a naughty picture during a meeting. or calling her, moaning through the phone, when you know she's with the team. you never walked in the arms of someone else, or denied her of at least sitting close to you. not until now.

"if you're gonna be fashionably late, then might as well look like y/n, sam." tony quips, breaking off the awkward moment of when you met her eyes as you set your little purse on wanda's lap.

tony started the evening off by coming after cap. steve of course answered him all defensively and that started a whole thing between them. peter was annoying bucky, and sam was there laughing. pietro is nodding along something vision is saying. and thor is just asking for more beer. clint and bruce are having an awkward conversation—they're trying. they're not the closest, but they're trying. when you and nat are having a thing (that clint can always tell when you are), and tony is busy calling out everyone, clint and bruce are left trying to find something to talk about. and right now, they've settled on the temperature of their steaks.

you, on the other hand, spent the entire evening staring directly at the woman in front of you. she never took her eyes off of you either. she followed your eyes even as it glances over tony, or looks a second too long at wanda's.

you were in wanda's arms looking at natasha the entire time. you were looking at her while you laugh at a joke wanda told you, you were looking at her when your head falls on wanda's shoulder for a second, you were looking at her as you whisper something in wanda's ear.

you didn't think that the "anger makes you turn red" was a real thing—it's easier to think it makes you turn green—until you saw natasha's face, all red, the veins in her neck were popping out, and her lips were trembling with her jaw clenched. you know nobody noticed besides you. nobody in this world can memorize her skin tone enough to see when it changes. to everyone, the glare that was sharp enough to cut through you was just how she normally looks. if anything, she's merely staring at you. but you can see through her. you've memorized her features, her face, her, so expertly that you can tell even the smallest micro changes in her expression. and right now, she's angry.

so you take that as your leave.

you let her cool off.

you stood up, you looked over at wanda and smiled at the way her hands trailed down your back, asking if you needed her to accompany you to which you shook your head.

you walked with confidence, with ease, fully knowing that you'd be getting what you want when you get home. you pushed through the door of the restroom, the marble tiled, rough lighted room that someone suddenly grabbed you in by the elbow to.

you immediately knew who it was by her scent alone. she passed through you at the door and quickly grabbed you before you could even do anything.

"natasha, what—"

she kissed you. she put an arm on your back and she pulled your body until you're pressed against her with no space left to breath. and then she kissed you. she kissed you aggressively. she kissed you until you had no choice but to surrender the very little power you had over her.

the hand that's been holding the door the entire time found the back of your head. she pulled you up and pushed your back hard against the wall and she kissed you harder. you didn't like losing. so you kissed her with as much aggression, as much strength, if not more, as she did you.

your hands travelled up to her hair. you didn't care if it was styled to perfection. you intertwined your fingers with her red locks, and you twisted your legs around her body so you can pull her impossibly closer.

your kiss became passionate. but she still kissed you with the power she knows she has over you, and you kissed her with the resistance you know only you can give her.

you were resisting her advances. you were moving your head so she can't fully do what she wants, so she can't kiss you the way she wants to and only the way you want to.

her hand went to hold your jaw. she held you in place, she pushed a tongue in between your lips which you were quick to resist by pulling away. she wasn't enjoying it. her jaw was clenched, and her eyes were narrowed by almost an unnoticeable bit.

you smiled.

you smiled in the way that irritated her most. "i think, you need to start being patient." you said, grabbing her by the wrist. her eyes never left yours as you pulled her hand down from your jaw to slowly, gently, lightly trail the center of your body.

you lifted your chin to what the wall behind you allowed when her hand reached the gap between your covered breasts. and when it reached your stomach, you made sure to roll your eyes in the way that you knew made her crazy. and then you pushed your hands between your two bodies so it reaches your wet core. you didn't let her touch. you felt her fingers extend in an attempt to reach it, but you held it far enough so she can only feel how warm you were without feeling you.

you made sure not to look at her. you closed your eyes, and you let your chest rise, and your mouth open slightly. it was as if you were playing with a sex toy. like you were holding a vibrator and teasing yourself with it.

the very little power you had over her, is from the obsession she has with you, with your body, with your entirety. and she knew it damn well. but she couldn't do anything about it. because it was the way your back arched when you finally let her touch, controlling how long it stays, or how hard she pressed, that keeps her going. it riles her up.

you made her fall into an obsession she can never get out of. she was addicted to you.

that show that you play for her, it intoxicates her. it pulls her. it lets her see how much power she has to take back. how much control she has to force back from you. she likes the chase. the games. she likes knowing that after your little episode, she'll get to do whatever she wants, and frankly, you like that too.

so when you let her fingers press a little harder on your swollen bud, and you moaned, she flipped you. she flipped you so quickly that you didn't realize your front was against the wall until she carried you by the stomach and bent you over the sink.

she finally had all the freedom in the world to touch the pussy she was so wrongfully denied of. she made you spread your legs. and then her fingers danced on your core. she pressed on every part of you until you were grinding on her. "natasha, don't—" you breathed, "don't tease me." you were trying to stay in control. to tell her what to do. but she wasn't having it. you had you time, your fun.

you gasped when she cupped your sex with her palm. she lowered her body, and pressed it hard against your own. her other hand tucks a portion of your hair behind your ear so it's not covering your eyes.

"i think, you need to learn to be patient, dear." she whispers against your ear.

you felt her weight. and her warmth, and somehow, with the very little reason left in your body, you remembered the door. you couldn't move. the weight of her body held you in place. but you forced your hand to find the back of her head. you resisted the moans. you resisted the uncontrollable urge to grind against her arm by forcing yourself still.

"nat, the door." you whispered. "we can't do this here."

suddenly, she was rubbing your pussy. with the entirety of her palm. she was rubbing your swollen nub, and your hole, and everything that her palm covered. your mouth dropped wide open to let out the most animalistic moan you had absolutely no control of. and then she pulls your hair back so your ear is right where her lips were at.

"you should've thought about that before your little stunt back there, don't you think?" she growls. you could feel the tears forming in your eyes as your inhibitions slowly faded away.

the door. anybody can walk in on you at any moment. they will see you being fucked on top of the counter. they're going to see what slut this avenger is. but you can't stop grinding on her hand. the mere thought of someone seeing you being fucked out makes you grind even harder until her palm leaves your clothed pussy, and lands hard on your covered ass.

"mommy doesn't like naughty girls. you know that, right?" she slaps you again. and then again. and then again.

that had more tears running down your face. you hadn't realize that she wasn't on top of you anymore until she pulls your hair back even further so you can see yourself in the mirror.

you left the hotel with the reddest lipstick that's now smudged all over your lower face, and such an evenly drawn eyeliner that's now running down your cheeks. your hair that's been put up into an elegant updo, is now undone and held in a handful in natasha's hands. and you, moaning and panting and crying and grinding against her for every slap she lands on your now bare ass, look like a pathetic whore.

"didn't i tell you to be patient?"

natasha pushed herself against you, pressing down on your body while pulling your hair as far as your body allowed. you can see her on the mirror, you can feel her bulge against your cunt. and you couldn't help but grind against her dress, fully knowing the juices you'll be leaving on it, but frankly you couldn't care less.

her hair is messily falling over her shoulder now. and her lipstick is smudged against her chin. you loved the strands of hair that hung over the side of her head. and the way her head tilts in pride as she watches you writhing under her, chasing a high from the very little friction you get from grinding against her.

"please, i just need you to fuck me..." you cried. "please, nat..."

her eyebrows pinch almost in insincere pity. "now, is that a way to talk to your mommy?"

"mommy, please..."

she made you sit on the counter, never letting go of the grip she had on your hair. you were panting. and huffing. you were like a puppy in heat as you face her with legs all spread out on top of the restroom sink. you presented her with the cunt that only she gets to touch. the pussy that she's claimed.

her eyes softened for a moment when she comes as close as the counter gave her the space to. her other hand falls on your waist, while the other tugs at your hair so your faces are just an inch apart. she looked concerned, she looked like she was about to give into what you want. but then she doesn't.

"do you really think bad girls deserve mommy's dick?" she says, and suddenly her hand's on your neck, while the other finally makes contact with your cunt, pushing your lace underwear to the side. "should i really fuck you?"

your hips grinded harder against her fingers especially when she slammed two fingers into you. "god, yes mommy. please fuck me."

her grip on your neck tightens and she pushes you harder so your head hits the mirrors. "after your little stunt? flirting with wanda?" she didn't sound as taunting as you knew she wanted to sound like. instead, she sounded angry. and with the way she's restricting your airways, and the way she's slamming unforgivingly against your pussy, you knew she was angry.

"'m sorry mommy. will never happen again." that's a lie. it will happen again. but you need her. you need her. her fingers aren't enough. you wanted her to stretch you out. you wanted to feel her against every part of your pussy.

"right..." she says. "who do you belong to, sweetheart?" her grip tightens even more when she adds another finger and your hips jolts up as your eyes roll impossibly further back into your head. you were screaming her name. chanting it over and over again until her grip tightens even more. "quickly, sweetheart. i can hear someone coming."

you couldn't breath. your hand takes grasp of her wrist, but it wasn't to stop her hand from gripping your neck. you couldn't care less about air when she just added the last of her four fingers while her thumb circles your clit. you were chasing your high. you wanted this so badly. the way she was reaching spots, rubbing against parts you didn't even know existed. you were losing your mind. you couldn't breath, you couldn't think. your mind was blank, and it might be that you're about to pass out that you start seeing stars, but if you were to die right at this very moment, you're happy to have this as your last memory.

"who do you belong to?"

you grinded even harder, your hips were writhing against the fingers that only increased in pace. you were hazy. you were a moaning mess. and right at the very last second when you can feel yourself slipping away in pure ecstasy and an incredibly limited amount of air, you were able to mutter, "you..."

and then she lets you go right at the very second you exploded in her fingers. her hand was no longer on your neck, it was pressing on your chest just below your collarbone as she lets you ride out your high. your moans. her name. your cries. it was all music to her ears.

your consciousness came back, all along with your reason, and reality itself. you opened your eyes, panting. that might have just been one of the greatest sex you had in your entire life. you had a smile on your face as did natasha as she licked all your juices off her fingers.

her features softened as she caresses your face in her hands, pulling you closer, gently, softly, so you can stare into her eyes. "my good girl did so well for me." she whispers, giving you a peck on the nose. "mommy's gonna give you what you want later because you've done so well for me."

you knew she was jealous. your stunt made her jealous. you could see it in the way the end of her lip twitched. or through the darkness in her eyes.

you put your hands over hers. "i love you..." you whisper. "i belong to you. and you only."

that made her smile. she carried you off the sink and then she grabs a few tissue papers to soak in water and clean off your make up. she made sure to leave out your smudged lipstick. she left off the red tint on your lower face. and when you were about to fix it for yourself, she tuts. "don't. that should send a message that you're off limits, yeah?"

she didn't do anything to fix herself. your hairs were a mess, your dresses were wrinkled. but neither of you cared. you knew you wouldn't be staying any more than 5 minutes in this restaurant now.

she took your hand and let her fingers intertwined with yours as you both walked through the door. you were quickly met by the sight of a line of women with wanda on it's head. you couldn't even say anything. all you can do was hide behind natasha.

"next time, just go home." wanda says.

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