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eupheme · 25 days

Text

— common ground [into the fire, part iii]

part i | part ii | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death

a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

(Or - you take the Ghoul for a ride)

"Fuck!”

You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.

This wasn't what you had in mind.

You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.

The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.

He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.

"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."

You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.

A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.

"What?" He asks, at your expression.

"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.

It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.

A shrug, "They shot first."

"You goaded them."

You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.

"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"

"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."

He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."

A second, before he steps away.

"These weren't those kind of people."

You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.

Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.

The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.

Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.

Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.

You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.

There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.

Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.

You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.

"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.

There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.

It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.

"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.

"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."

"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.

Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.

“Said you need water?”

"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."

"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."

The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.

“Where’d you learn to do this?”

It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.

“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”

People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.

You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.

That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.

“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”

“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”

The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.

“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.

“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”

It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.

The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.

A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.

You think he does rest - a rarity.

You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.

Taking the rare chance to do it freely.

In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.

But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.

His presence feels the same.

A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.

It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.

If you got close enough-

Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?

You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.

In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.

What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.

Liquid gold, in comparison.

“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.

Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.

The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.

“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”

The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.

“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”

Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.

“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”

He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.

Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.

Would he let you touch him?

He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.

“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”

That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.

They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.

Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -

“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.

You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.

Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.

Maybe you still could.

“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”

A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.

Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.

“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”

The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.

“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”

The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.

Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.

Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.

Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”

“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.

“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.

You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.

Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.

You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.

“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.

“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”

It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.

He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin. Flexing up and into you, letting you feel the hard ridge of him.

“This what you want, sweetheart?”

Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.

“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”

A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.

Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.

The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.

Letting himself watch.

“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.

“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”

Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.

Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.

It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.

“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.

Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.

As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.

See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.

“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”

Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.

It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.

You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.

“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.

Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.

“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”

Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.

Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.

Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.

“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”

It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.

“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”

Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.

Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.

The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.

Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.

Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.

Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.

It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.

He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.

Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.

Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.

A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.

You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.

His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your shadowed, half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him. His hat, still perched on your head. Looking like it belongs there.

A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.

Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.

A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.

Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.

You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.

Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.

Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.

“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.

“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”

You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.

The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.

It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.

You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.

A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.

It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.

That maybe you could clean it up.

That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.

It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.

A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles.

His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.

The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.

Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.

It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.

And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.

save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)

#please mind the tags!#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #fallout tv series #fallout #cooper howard

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love-that-we-were-in · 2 months

Text

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes.

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.”

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.”

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see.

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party.

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly.

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.”

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.”

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets.

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.”

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead.

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick.

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?”

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table.

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game.

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win.

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet.

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?”

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.”

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond.

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more.

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this.

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night.

“Why aren’t you ready?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.”

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?”

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way.

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around.

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap.

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more.

“Fancy a rematch?”

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose.

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.”

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.”

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.”

“How many beers have you had?”

“Three, I think?”

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you.

So you say it anyway.

“I bet I could outdrink you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition.

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight.

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?”

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.”

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.”

“Are you going to?”

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?”

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.”

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.”

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head.

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once.

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch.

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest.

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building.

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting.

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again.

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms.

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway.

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?”

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes.

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.”

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.”

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.”

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system.

“You ever blown a smoke ring?”

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now.

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?”

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes.

“We can share.”

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea.

“You’re on, Castellan.”

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular.

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore.

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you.

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close.

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby.

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen.

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.”

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.”

“I know you hooked up with Luke.”

“Seriously?”

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.”

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.”

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.”

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight.

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy.

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend.

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight.

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does.

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?”

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t.

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it.

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter.

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

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horrorartsworld · 25 days

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Hey!! A mutual just sent me your fic "A manspreading man" and gosh,,,definitely one of the best steamy Alastor x reader I've read 😩❤ If you're okay with it, could I request an Alastor x shy!reader where a cozy night when neither of them can sleep so they stay up, maybe having tea together too but, they end up getting steamy with each other?,, 😳 Love your work!! ❤❤

𝓉𝑒𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹

alastor/shy f!reader

warnings: smut w/ a lil fluffies. pet names. kind of primal alastor. p in v. fingering. dub con. not proofread.

aww thank you nonnie baby!! tbh manspreading man was one of my favorites to write so i’m very glad to hear that you liked it so much to request something this lovely & spicy 🤭 got me going back to my roots with writing for al lol, i hope u enjoy <3

For some odd reason you couldn’t fall asleep. Not that the noises of constant terrors outside and the old sounds of the hotel didn’t have you usually sleeping like a baby it’s just that tonight of all nights seemed different.

Having you tossing and turning like a flopping fish, moments of just staring at the empty ceiling, or throwing a pillow over your face in hopes that you might suffocate yourself to sleep, but none of those seemed to help your ongoing sleep deprivation.

Finally after the last toss you turned you end up throwing yourself out of bed with a huff and your feet seem to oddly enough lead you to none of than Alastor’s quarters right across from your room. The door being slightly cracked enough to let you peak inside, hearing the inviting soft crackly of a jazz record playing and seeing the flicker of a candle going on an end table. Though it seemed very inviting you couldn’t help the sudden nervousness you felt wash over you when you went to approach the door, hugging the blanket you dragged along the way for some kind of support in this. Since you did have a crush on the deer fellow after all and everytime he would come around you would loose all your senses and look like an utter idiot when you’d scurry away from him to save face. In which you were completely committed to doing right now until the door suddenly swung open and you were met with Alastor’s elegantly tall stature.

“Oh!- Well hello my dear..” He speaks surprised to see you standing there holding your blanket in hand, hearing the static in his voice instantly turning your cheeks pink. “What brings you to my door at this hour.?”

You shift on your feet fiddling with your hands in the blanket before speaking, “m’ sorry a-alastor i-i just couldn’t sleep..i’ll be going now..” Your eyes trained on the buttons of his blazer, never meeting his gaze in knowing you’d blush more if you did while you spoke, quickly turning on your heel to make your way back to your room though his clawed hand grabbed your wrist before you could completely make your getaway.

Then you were pulled back to face him, his other hand coming up to your chin to make you look up at him, your cheeks instantly warming up more like you knew they would. “Can’t sleep? You poor thing..I actually have quite the remedy for such things..” He hums, then suddenly letting go of you to grab something from a cupboard leaving you standing there in his doorway.

After a second or two he turns his head to see you standing there sheepishly earning a soft chuckle from him. “Come sit dear..it’ll just be a moment.” He says nodding over to an antique arm chair that sat next to an intricate round table with a matching chair on the other side to go with it.

You shimmy yourself over to it making yourself comfortable on the chair, seeming to feel a bit more relaxed now that you were seated. Alastor then comes to sit down across from you holding two warm teacups that you were sure he used his demon magic to conjure to a certain temp, gesturing it out to you to take. “It’s Chamomile Tea…should do the trick for your sleeplessness..” He says taking his own sip before you did, letting the cup warm up your hands until you tasted it yourself feeling instantly at ease when it went down your throat.

“Wow…that’s good! Thank you Al!” You say with a soft hum and a smile causing Alastor’s smile to look more gentle though something was silently brewing behind those mischievous dial eyes.

“My pleasure my dear…my pleasure indeed..” He takes another sip as there’s a long pause between the two of you. Seeing his gaze over the rim of the cup had wandered down your chest to your hips in an indiscreet way, making your breath slightly falter at the sight.

“S-so…what’re you doing up so late as well?” Your gentle voice hardly above a whisper when you stammer out the question.

“Well I hardly ever sleep..too much to do..and too many folks out there trying to put my head on a mount..” He says nonchalantly in which you nod knowing this was very true with his background, but it was hard to even focus on a simple conversation like this one when his gaze continued its improper cycle along your body.

“Um A-alastor?” You tilt your head down trying to catch his eyes in attempt at getting his attention back by making him realize what he was doing though he already was very much aware what he was doing.

“Hmm? Oh sorry dear, it’s just that…fuck..” He unexpectedly cruses causing your thighs to staple shut when a warmth radiates through your core. Your eyes widening at his outburst, taking note that his chest was rising and falling rather quickly. “W-what’s the matter?” You mutter out confused, big doe eyes searching for some kind of answer on his unreadable face.

A tension brews as a low crackly chuckle escapes from his lips, “You like me don’t you little fawn?”

The unexpected question making a lump form in your throat. Why was he asking this? Were you that obvious? “Going quiet on me now?” His voice rippling through your thoughts with a sense of mocking in his tone. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of darling…” He trails off then getting up from his chair with a creak from its old legs, rounding the small table to come and tower over you, microphone buzzing when he sets it beside him as he leaned into you very close with ether hands at the sides of you clutching the arms of your chair. “..I’m quite fond of you myself..” He husks, his once static voice turning to his normal one as he leaned into your ear to utter those words.

“Y-you are?” You manage to find your voice again, feeling as if the chamomile tea had already kicked in and you were in a surreal dream.

“Mmm yess..” He practically purrs while he toys with the hem of your sleep shorts before riding it up so he can peer down at your plush thighs that were trembling so desperately to try and keep them sealed shut. Then thumbing over the sensitive flesh there he forces them open with his claws digging into them so he could hoist you up and wrap your legs around his hips to bring you to bed and once he has you there he lays you down with him on top but keeping your legs secured around him. “..Feel how much i yearn for you,” he says almost like a question as you then feel him grind his hard on into your clothed warmth. Your face burning as you nod. “Good girl..Shall I show you what I want to do to you?” once more nodding your head he can’t help the low growl admitting from the back of his throat when he slides a finger under the hem of your shorts and pulls them down towards the floor, primal eyes locking onto the wetness of your panties. The sight making his smile enlarged.

“My, My...so soaked just from that?” He couldn’t help but tease, in one single motion ripping your panties off, discarding them just like the shorts.

A low humming buzz is heard when Alastor gets a full view of your needy slick. Pretty pussy, all puffy and red, begging for a good fuck. You couldn’t help instinctively attempt at closing your legs once more with how vulnerable you were infront of him, but he holds them open forcefully with his hands. “Sweetheart..no need to shy away from me…i’m gonna make you feel so good..” you whimper softly just by those cooed words alone, along with the two fingers that were now invading your entrance. The sensation making your body shake as he did it without warning, moving in slow in and out strokes with his fingers, making wet sloshy noises with the air with your hushed whimpers. His fingers feeling like they were so far inside that they’ve reached max capacity…Was his fingers always this long?

“Al-al!..” You whine breathlessly, an all too familiar feeling stirring beneath your tummy with your cunt clenching around his fingers, but he immediately stops just before you could fully come undone.

“Not yet...” He hums with a knowing smile, gently patting your cheek with the other hand. You pout at this though that was quickly replaced when his fingers come in contact with his mouth, softly slurping up the left slick on his fingers, before he crashes his lips on yours, long tongue invading your space making you taste the tangy yet neutral flavor of your own arousal, all while your hips rut against his own in hopes to get that feeling back of your lost euphoria.

Finally getting the hint from your movements he pulls back and takes out his cock, tantalizing tapping it against your aching slit before fully pressing it into your already awaiting pussy. A loud enough cry following with his cock stretching you out with it’s full enough size, reaching much farther lengths then his fingers did. “Such a snug little thing you are,” He hisses while rutting into you, your body bouncing and recoiling with every thrust.

Your head falls back into the mattress, mumbling curses under your breath as the feeling was driving you mad, making him chuckle as you seem to squeeze him in tighter. “You like that..the way my cock just goes in…and out..” He groans as he emphasizes the in and out part by going slow and hard, his cock hitting the wall of your cervix even when he goes slow. “Hey..let me see those pretty fucked out eyes..” he growls lowly, “Atta girl..,” his finger leaning your chin down to look at him, the sight of him so sinful it almost made you come undone on the spot.

His ears flat amongst his head, eyes low and focused and his lip curled almost in a smirk with sweat lining his forehead. You wanted that imagine burned in your brain, which you couldn’t help but admit in your slur of babbles passing from your lips, which only made him fuck you even harder. “Mphmm, yeah? Burned in your brain huh..? That can be arranged..” He snickers genuinely considering haunting you with this imagine from time to time just to make you squirm.

Soon enough, the tightening of your tummy comes back once more and your walls contracts around Alastor’s cock harder then you’d expect. The cum creaming down his cock and dripping onto his sheets beneath you though his pace and speed never lets up. If anything it becomes more impactful as he works up his own orgasm, with you feeling overly sensitive.

His claws dig into your hips as his own snaps ferociously against yours and your post-cumming expression floating in your big eyes was enough to have him over the edge. “I’m gonna make you feel nice and full okay sweetheart?” He seethes out as his hips sputter and he spills his load into your spent little womb.

Slowly pulling out and away, he makes a towel appear in his hand to help you clean up. A soft whimper making its way out at the hollowness you now felt inside, but you were starting to feel sleepy with a small yawn coming after your whimper. “That’s it’s darling…you can sleep now..” He then tucks you under the covers gently with a soft kiss to your forehead seeing your eyes fluttering gently into slumber, completely spent with the workout he just gave you.

After he cleans himself and gets dressed he walks over to the abounded teacups eyeing his own carefully, when he realizes in the murky brew that he accidentally spiked his own somehow, chuckling at his own mix up that ether way seemed to do the trick for your tiresome night.

“No wonder the tea’s gone cold..”

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor

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stuckinapril · 1 year

Note

how to feel like a person?

digital detox. if your phone was taken away, how much free time would you have? how empty would your day be? do you have things to do outside of scrolling endlessly on different apps? if you come to the realization that a lot of your time consists of being glued to your screen, you need to start considering incorporating no-phone time blocks into your day. a big part of our daily misery boils down to consuming so many things in 24 hours, to the point that we feel too burned out to do anything else that truly nourishes our body and soul.

establish a routine. discipline is so important for happiness. start out small—schedule your day, get consistent with your skincare routine, take daily walks—and then gradually add more and more things. don’t try to revamp your life all at once. that’s a surefire way to quit altogether. be realistic about your limits, but also push yourself where appropriate so you don’t stay static.

journal. mentalize your feelings. don’t suppress your emotions. be curious about your thought processes and what makes you tick. always be self-compassionate, but hold yourself accountable where it’s due.

start pursuing hobbies. make a list of all the things that interest you and try them out. there are so many things out out there; one of them is bound to stick. don’t go into it with the negative mindset that you know you wouldn’t like doing x and y. some things you might know in your heart are not for you, but don’t rule out possibilities you’re ambivalent about. be open-minded and see finding your interests not as a chore, but as an exciting prospect.

practice gratitude. this is such a popular advice bc it works. start off your day by listing 3 things you’re grateful for. it’s crazy how so many people don’t realize it’s a blessing to just be alive, when so many people get robbed of their lives so early on. i’m not saying to never shoot for more, but having a foundation of contentment goes a very long way.

have a solid set of friends, but march your own march. you don’t need anybody; you just want them. same thing with friends. friends are good for us because we are a social species, but if one person were to leave your life, it’s not the end of the world. your life is already colorful, filled with so many things you’re doing for yourself—furthering your career, improving on your skills, working on your fitness—that a person leaving shouldn’t be detrimental. never be so dependent on someone you can’t envision a life without them. you need to make your life exciting on your own; you can’t have someone else doing all the heavy lifting for you.

have an abundance mindset. if one thing fails, that just leaves room for something better to take its place. you are always bound to find better. there are 8 billion people in this world. there are countless different possibilities. failure or loss does not mean it’s game over for you.

see pain as a learning experience. true growth spurts do truly come from heartbreak or failure. it teaches us to pick ourselves back up and try again. always have a growth mindset. that relationship didn’t work out? now you know what to avoid for the next relationship. you’re single again? now you get to focus on and learn more about yourself. that friendship ended? at least you won’t waste any more time on someone who doesn’t value having you in their life. you didn’t get that job? that leaves the door open for other possibilities. you didn’t get the score you wanted? now you know what to work on to do better next time.

action-directed things to improve your self-esteem. you can sit in your room all day and tell yourself you’re the best thing since sliced bread and everyone’s obsessed with you, but truly building up your self-esteem comes not only from thinking positive things about yourself, but also acting on them. work on things you care about. work on yourself as a person. love who you are, but also strive for self-improvement. do things that can act as proof—to you—for why you’re worthy. it’s a game changer.

dispense of the victim-of-life mentality. it’s safe to dwell in your misery and keep blaming things on factors out of your control, but where would that get you? it’s just resulting in you expending your energy needlessly. stop seeing life as jumping from tragedy to tragedy. actively fight against your negativity bias. recognize that for every bad thing that happens, 100 good things happen, but we as humans have a tendency of focusing only on the negatives. sort through your emotions, make peace with what happened, but pick yourself up and move on. the most valuable thing we all have on this planet is time. it’s limited and it will come to an end eventually. you don’t want to look back and resent yourself for not simply letting go of things and appreciating what you have around you.

#ask #a

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

Text

I'm On Your Screens.

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

Vox's POV of "Get Off My Screen!"

A/N: This is the silly TV man's POV on what I had written earlier since it was mainly just how dear reader saw everything. I wanted to do this before working on the Vox x Reader requests so I could do some practice on this dude's character hahaha. Also my goodness Tumblr you are THIRSTY for this man! Aaaaah I love it anyway so keep those ideas coming people!

Vox is a busy man, dealing with the other two Vees' chaos alongside his company kept his hands full daily.

Either always irate out of his mind or even grumpy because of it.

Velvette called him again because of Valentino making a bloody mess.

Oh great, this shit AGAIN-

Upon further inspection, the moth overlord was pretty much throwing another pissy tantrum because something didn't go his way.

Something about one of his whores stepping out of line or whatever?

Vox wasn't exactly listening.

Throughout that entire fit, Vox had half a mind to tell Valentino to just suck it up.

Sometimes shit goes wayside, it is what it is.

He was already exhausted mentally and physically by the time he dragged himself back into his monitor room.

Plopping himself back down on his chair, Vox let out a tired sigh and just stared at the many screens around him.

So imagine his surprise when he saw a random screen just crackle and fizz like an old CRT booting up.

Hell had done away with those darn things years ago-

He even made sure of it!

He swiveled his chair around to look closer at the fuzzy image that had appeared.

The static filter over the picture was definitely reminicent of an older TV screen.

He could barely make out a group of figures hunched over... something?

Vox tried to travel through the screen, as he could with the many many others in the room around him-

"FUCKING-! OUCH?!"

Only for it to rebound back.

Vox didn't know whether to be confused or surprised that he managed to zap himself.

HimSELF.

Besides that, a random prompt appeared on the screen.

What kind of haunted bullshit was this?

"What's your name?"

Okay, someone had to be pulling a prank on him.

Despite being skeptical, he decided to humor this weird situation.

"Okay-? The keyboard doesn't work. How am I supposed to use this thing? Just write on the screen?"

Despite his sarcastic remark to no one in particular, yes.

That was in fact what he had to do.

Which Vox found out pretty soon, and he felt a little idiotic that it wasn't the first thing he tried.

He had to squint to kind of understand what was happening on the other side of the screen.

He'd written his name on the screen aaaaand-

Great, absolutely nothing happened.

Someone had to be fucking with him.

There wasn't even any audio so he couldn't even use that for hints.

The group he'd been watching just all of a sudden jumped up and pointed towards him.

Or at least that's what it looks like.

Could they see him?

He wasn't even sure what happened next, the group somewhat hastily moved out of his sight.

Oh whatever.

Vox was about to just forget about the weirdness of the situation if something else hadn't popped up on an adjacent screen.

A phone homepage.

What the hell was that doing on his screens?

It wasn't like there was anyone in particular he was interested enough to look through their stuff.

Ohhhh he could interact with it this time.

Dumb fucking hackers could only zap him once, HA!

The screen with the TV filter quickly shut off when he interacted with the phone menu however.

He should really check his mainframe security and firewalls after this-

It took him no time at all to rummage away and scrounge up whatever he could from the phone.

Might as well do away with the tacky wallpaper while he's at it-

"Y/N huh?"

He saw your photos as well, only becoming more and more confused with the situation.

Were you a living human???

The camera app was unresponsive to his attempts at interacting with it.

So was the recording app...

Guess he couldn't use it to spy this time.

Before long, the phone was also being interacted with.

Vox could only guess it was you.

"Oh great- yeah, just go back to using the shitty wallpaper that I switched out on PURPOSE."

It didn't take much longer before Vox noticed other nearby screens popping up with electronic screens similar to this one.

He totally switched back the wallpaper before messing with the other stuff-

It was always the same, the cameras wouldn't work and neither would the microphones.

For a technology overlord, Vox found himself slightly irritated by how limited his actions were.

wtf was he even supposed to do with this?

Once he retired for the night, he wondered if all of this would just go away come morning.

Spoiler alert: It didn't.

Though the tacky wallpaper was back again.

Hm... this could be fun.

This went on for a few days, he and you were switching the wallpapers back and forth.

It was either his face or whatever random shit you'd change it with.

Sometimes Vox would just let you have some peace before switching it back after an hour.

He could only imagine how irritated you were.

Too bad he couldn't hear or see it.

But seeing you constantly battle with him for the wallpaper priority was entertaining enough.

Vox didn't bother with any of your other files or anything else at the moment.

He didn't see the point in doing so yet anyway.

Of course that was until the notepad opened.

"I know you're in there. Stop messing with me."

He chuckled seeing you type out the message, guess the jig was up.

But he wasn't going to stop this game you both were playing just yet.

"Oh I know, you're just fun to mess with doll."

Little did Vox know that his snarky response would've been the start to an... odd companionship to say the least.

Both of you exchanged messages over the months.

Either idle talk or just conversation about anything under the sun.

If something bothered him at work, most likely he'd leave a rant on your notepad for you to find.

Similarly, if you've had a shitty day- he'd quickly know.

"You're obsessed with this Alastor guy huh?"

"No, he's just an old timey prick who keeps fucking up my stuff."

"You're obsessed."

"Fuck you. >:/"

Interacting with you ended up taking more of his free time and the other Vees would be confused why he spent so much more time in his monitor room.

Vox just brushed them off and rolled his eyes.

He wasn't attached.

He didn't actually care for you did he?

Yeah no absolutely not-

There was a point Vox did get bored enough to look into your files though.

He spent a good hour sorting through stuff while you got work done.

"You should really label your files better."

"It's not that bad."

"Really? After I spent a good while organizing and managing your shit because of some randomly named ones? A goddamn 'thank you' would've been nice."

"Random? I don't do random."

"Oh yeah? What's this one? 'Yeetus' or this one- 'Bababooey'?! Hell, this one is just keysmash!"

"Oh shut up, I still find my things."

"HOW????"

Vox proceeded to rant and bitch about it for another hour-

Sometimes when he just wanted to fuck with you, he'd steal control of the cursor.

It was purely just to spite you.

Your notepad rants afterwards kept him entertained.

He was slightly proud that he beat your wallpaper war.

Or so you dubbed it.

Now his grin was practically a permanent plaster on your devices.

Even so, when he wasn't busy Vox sometimes found himself looking over at your work.

"How is your grammar this shitty?"

"We have grammarly for that, I don't really care much."

"Grammar- what??"

Inadvertently he ended up being your spellchecker every so often.

He only realized how much help he'd been giving once you mentioned in passing that your English professor bumped up your grade.

Why?

Because your writing was just better.

Correction-

Vox's writing was better.

He wouldn't let you hear the end of it for weeks.

You knew it was a mistake telling him.

He didn't even stop his trolling there.

Once he figured out how to overload your computer's memory, it was lag central.

Then he started messing with the display and aspect ratio, making visual glitches while he pulled up random tabs or applications you needed to fight him to close.

"I'm in class you jackass! We can do this when I get home!"

"Nope, I don't think I will. >:3"

He thought he was doing you a favor giving your devices some custom flair as well.

"Are these emojis of you?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd enjoy them."

"Huh, cool."

He thought he was doing great as your companion, until you downloaded that thing.

What in Lucifer's name was it even?

Another tiny human in your desktop?

"What the fuck is that."

"My new desktop companion, do you like it?"

Vox didn't even bother replying, watching it move around and emote for a hot minute while his eye twitched.

Were you trying to piss him off?

Eventually he took his frustration out on it with the cursor to the best of his ability.

Even if it only irritated him more that it kept getting back up unharmed.

Fucking hell, if you wanted a visual desktop companion you could have just ASKED.

Even if he stayed up a few extra hours to work on it, Vox felt like it was worth it.

He was better than that stupid little companion thing you downloaded.

"Did you upgrade my desktop pet by any chance?"

"Why? Do you not like it?"

"Nah, it's actually pretty cute. Thanks."

Vox couldn't bring himself to reply to that.

He was not fucking CUTE!

It totally flew over his head that you called it a desktop "pet".

Depending on his mood, he would use the small thing to emote or just keep you entertained.

At least you could sort of see him.

Even when he couldn't see you.

However, Vox was still Vox and he couldn't help himself to a little mischief here and there.

You both met by sheer coincidence from a weird situation.

Still, the tech overlord couldn't help but be just slightly glad it happened to him.

If Vox had to actually be honest, you weren't all rainbows and sparkles.

You could be a total bitch if you wanted to.

Heh, maybe there'd be a chance he'll finally meet you down here.

Guess he'll just have to wait and see until then.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #he's a little shit #a charming little shit tho #I need to write more of this fool #Get Off My Screen Series

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ggsbooks123 · 6 months

Text

Memory Garden

peeta mellark x female mc (Jude Slone)

summary; you made haymitch promise, if it came down to you or Peeta that he’d save Peeta. And he did. But now you’re back from the Capitol with one thing certain, Peeta Mellark is the one true enemy.

warnings: angst angst angst, mean thoughts ab peeta beloved and honestly just a lot of writing i didn’t need to do

———

Peeta did this.

The mantra floated through my head, as I yanked on the restraint again.

He’s the reason everyone you love is against you.

Another yank.

He blew up District 12

“Jude, feeling hungry yet?” Haymitch’s voice breaks the static but the mantra just quietens but doesn’t stop. My hand drops the bind.

“What do you have?” It was a better response than i’d given lately. What if Peeta tried to kill me and poisoned my portion… I couldn’t risk it. “No, I don’t want it”

He sighs, still coming towards me with the tray “I promise you, Peeta doesn’t want you dead. You know that, think”

I scowled, “I know what I saw. I know what he did. He’s a monster, Haymitch. Don’t make me, I dont want his filthy blood on my hands” He scoffed, dropping the tray onto the table next to me.

“Let’s hope lover boy comes and feeds you bevause I’m not putting up with this” And with that he leaves the room.

I glanced at the tray, tomato soup with toast coated in possibly cheese, but it’s not the delicious toast that catches my eye, the soup, it’s not red. They’ve added ingredients to make it appear more orange… Not bright orange.

A sunset.

“I still remember that Christmas he brought me that green sweater. Green doesn’t suit me” I say, the air was brisk and I hated walking in the Winter but I couldn’t turn Peeta down when he came to my door.

“I refuse to believe you look bad in anything” I scoff, glad it’s cold knowing he might take that as thhe reason my cheeks are now red. “What is your favourite colour?”

I raise my eyebrow at him “I’m sure there are better things to talk about then my favourite colour”

He watches me as we walk for a moment “I don’t see anything more important” It makes me slow to a stop, “Tell me, please. I want to know”

I look to him, his kind blue eyes and blond hair that looks incredibly soft without all those products they use during interviews, he looks beautiful.

“It used to be red but I think i’m leaning towards purple” I shrug, “It’s only fair that i’ve revealed that secret you tell me yours”

He smiles before looking up at the sun, it’s setting letting the streaks of orange paint the sky “Orange, right there. It’s the second most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” I glance at him unsure as to why he’d say second until I see the look in his eyes.

My head snaps at the memory, cruel and unforgiving. That’s what Peeta was, and he would hurt me so I had to kill him before he tried first.

His face twists in the memory as I replay it over and over again, he doesn’t look like himself, Hatred flared in a moment that was full of pure adoration. I see it now like i’m looking through a camera at the two of us.

He looks like he loves me… Then his eyes lose their spark like a snap and he’s spitting awful words at me, one’s ill never forget.

I’ll never forget he’s the reason i’m like this.

—

The food goes cold and I go another day without eating and under sedation after I nearly come out of binding when they try to insert the needle into my arm to get food into my body.

I awake in an empty room but there’s a buzz in the air, I look to the mirror across from me. I look better than I did the first time I looked inside, I’d look better if I ate proper food but I can’t, he wants me dead and he won’t fail again.

The door hisses open bringing my attention away from my strangely hair, Katniss stands at the door, tears in her eyes.

“You need to eat something” She whispers but the room is so quiet i’m not surprised if she can hear my blaring thoughts or the alarm going off in my head.

“Get out” I spit, turning away from her. Katniss was close to Peeta, never too close for respect of me which I hated now, she should have stopped whatever was forming between the two of us. Now it’s this. “I don’t want to see you.”

“It’s been months, I thought-“ She tries to speak but she stops when my head snaps to her aswell, her eyes are searching my face. I still look awful, I know that and it seems she still hasn’t come to terms with what I had gone through. Why don’t they see it’s his fault? Always.

“He’s the reason this happened to me, Katniss. And you’re still going to side with him. If you don’t kill him then he’ll kill me Katniss, Don’t you see!” I scream, her back hits the door and it hisses open and my heart stops.

There, he is. He’s not expecting the door to open, the surprise on his face is evident as those blue eyes bore into mine and I steel myself preparing for the hatred, his attempts to end my life.

But neither happen, he watches me with nothing but sadness and his hands are empty, just slack at his sides as he takes a step forward and I’m frozen, It’s not making sense.

He keeps coming closer and my heart is beating out my chest. Run! He’s going to kill you! My head screams but he doesn’t look like he will kill me, he looks like he wants to be next to me and holding me through this, possibly the one feeding me the tomato soup like Haymitch suggested.

“Jude… Please, I’d never-“ He seems to choke on his words as a tear slips down his cheek “Come back to me” Come back and trust me so I can kill you, I hear instead. The words make me flinch, the movement is so large the whole bed moves with me, screeching.

He backs away, the door hisses open again but he doesn’t move to get out “You’re just here to kill me!” I cried, wishing him out of the room.

Get out. Get out. Get out!!!

I must’ve screamed the last time because he’s gone and finally the screaming in my head stops and I fall to the bed, the thought of food or anything fades, only the want to be far from him stays.

—

I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd hunger games, i’m from District Twelve and Peeta Mellark does not want me dead.

I repeat in my head over and over again, as the truck rolls over cracks and bumps, my body jumps at each bit of debris we hit and I hit the metal seat hard each time but the pain is real. Which is hard to say about a lot lately.

Peeta Mellark wants doesn’t want you dead.

I shake my head, thst one was the hardest to remember and at times, it was no where reachable and all that would sustain me in that moment would be his blood on my hands.

Finally the truck pulled to a stop, I straightened my shoulders. I’d been taken by the Capital and my memories have been distorted, my first thought may not always be the right one.

With that final word of encouragement I let the anxiety slip from me as the back door opens and I’m led out. The sun blinds me for a moment, I’d only seen it for a moment when they made me leave base but only to be stuffed back in the van.

Now I could see the destruction. His fault. No, no, no. I took a deep breath, before turning to seeing the loving welcome party at the front of what seemed to be an abandoned building.

Katniss with her bow, Gale with his crossbow and the five members of their squad had their guns trained on me, including Peeta. My heart hammered but I kept upright as I took the empty gun from the guard before waltzing my way towards the group.

I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd Hunger Games, I am from Distrisct 12 and None of these people want me dead.

“What is she doing here?” Katniss is the first to speak and though her eyes are trained on me, i know she doesn’t want me to answer.

“Coin wants her to be shown on screen, the victors fighting on the same side” A dark man, who screamed military spoke and he was the only one besides Finnick who hadn’t raised their gun at me. “I don’t like the gun”

“Cant have me fighting with my bare hands on screen” I mutter, before shaking the weapon “It’s empty”

The tension seemed to ease slightly in the group but while half of them had lowered their weapons, Peeta, Katniss and Gale hadn’t. I had to remember what I’d been like this past month, I wouldn’t trust me either.

“I don’t like this” Peeta. His words cut deep and I deflate at them before the military man waves everyone to come inside, not before a solider by the name of Jackson, she told me, quietly instructed me that i’d be restrained for their safety.

“I understand, but I’m not a child”

“No just someone who went through a lot of shit” Finnick says behind Jackson, and my eyes dart up. I didn’t know where my mind stood with Finnick, I didn’t feel like killing him but I hadn’t felt like killing Peeta a moment ago but we all knew it would come.

It was why I was being restrained in the first place. I nod at his words, unsure of how to respond before they lead me inside. The wall along the door was made of glass and I watched as the van that stopped me off, vanished in the distance.

I was stuck here and I didn’t know if I would ever leave this ruin of a city. I kept my distance from the group as they moved into the centre and I took a seat beside the window.

“We’ll have to set up an around the clock guard on her, we can take shifts” Military man said, turning to look at me. “I’ll take the first shift, Names Boggs.”

I preferred Military man but I nodded all the same, “I want a shift” Peeta’s voice is small compared to Boggs but it silences the room all the same.

“Not happening” Jackson speaks up this time, confusing me on who’s in command.

“I can do it!” Peeta argued back, standing from his seat “It’s not her… The Capital killed her and whoever they sent back to us, i’ll be happy to put a bullet in its head” I flinched, turning my eyes down to my hands. Clenching them, was I dead? The girl I was? I shake my head, I am Jude Slone and I did not die in the Capital. They broke me but I am not unfixable. I am broken not unfixable.

I am unfixable.

“I’m not sure seeing as a mutt helps” Jackson declares but Boggs cuts her off

“Give him a shift, Katniss too.” There was no room for argument as Jackson nodded and began to schedule the guard clock. I wanted to be more helpful, tell them that maybe they could go an hour and they could all rest, but I didn’t even trust myself to do that.

Instead I kept silent, letting the rest of them discuss our plan while I watched the day pass by through the glass. “How’re you feeling?” Finnick’s voice from beside me makes me jump. I turn to him and he looks almost glowing, I’d heard something about him and Annie.

I knew I would feel happy for him if I didn’t feel so disconnected. Finnicks memories that came to mind now only brought warmth, nothing haunting. Which was relieving, he was a breath of fresh air.

“Away, I feel like everything’s happening and I’m not really here” I try to explain and he seems to understand. “I don’t want to be a problem, I don’t know why they sent me here… I’m not ready.”

He frowns, “I think you’re where you need to be, normally whenver Annie gets confused she asks me, and I promise you, you’ll find nothing but the truth here” I glance over to the group who had begun to seperate and close their eyes.

It must be Finnicks shift. The thought made this whole encounter turn cold but still, I took in his words as my eyes trained on the baker boy. “Peeta was the reason this happened to me… Real?”

He shakes his head, “You made Haymitch swear if it came down to the two of you that he’d get Peeta to safety” Finnick explained but my mind screamed at me that he was lying. Why would I ask that? Peeta and I didn’t get along, no, we did and we’d almost- I didn’t know what we almost did or if he hated me or loved me and it made me want to rip my hair out as my thoughts banged against my head.

He was not the reason you went to the Capital, you chose this. You didn’t want him to go through this… That felt right, staring at him now, I would never wish upon him those nights in the Capital.

“I know it must be hard. Annie went through a lot but they know that the Capital never left you alone, you were their main priority.” Finnick places a hand on my shoulder, bringing my fully to the present for what felt like the first time. “None of us blame you at all for what happened.

I forgot how long it’s been since someone had been gentle with me. Skin to skin, human contact. My body released its pressure, relaxing in my seat. “Thank you, Finnick”

He smiled before sitting up straighter, and we together sat in silence watching the night sky slowly fall upon us as the rest that were awake finally knocked off

“Get some rest” Finnick muttered to me softly, tapping my leg as he got up. I could see his eyes dropping a while ago but he still stayed and it relieved me that he was finally putting himself first.

I nodded, I would not be sleeping tonight. Each time I closed my eyes another memory would wash over me, I’ve started to get better at knowing if it’s real or not without verification.

Like the one of Peeta and Is confession of our favourite colours, it was easier to picture him smiling at me now instead of anger and whenever it did dissolve to the image it was almost too perfect, his freckles gone and the scar he got from the 75th games vanished, as did the dark circles under my eyes and the few strands out of place were perfectly flat. Too perfect.

I watched Finnick rouse Peeta and point over to me. Of course, I could only get so lucky. I heard someone clear their throat before they took a seat across from me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t know where my mind would jump to.

And he seemed to take the message, he didn’t try to speak to me either. She asks me. I promise you’ll find nothing but truth here.

Finnick was right, I couldn’t close myself off and hope I’d be able to fix myself. If it was that easy, I’d be normal again. “Finnick told me that whenever i’m having trouble differentiating real from not real I should just ask…”

I glanced up at him, in the darkness it was hard to make out his uniform but his blonde hair and pale skin were easy to spot and it made my body tingle as I registered just how close he was and I didn’t feel like wringing my hands around his neck. Relief.

“Shoot away” I raised an eyebrow “Not literally” I smiled softly at that before cycling through my head and I settled back into his favourite colour. What if I asked and his favourite was blue or something? Sunset orange was just another lie they filled into my head. Ask.

“Your favourite colour. It’s sunset orange, real? Not real?” I clench my fists, please. please.

“Real… Yours used to be red but after the hunger games you couldn’t stand it” He explained, and he was right. I used to tie a red bow into my hair everyday until my reaping now the colour reminded me of the slaughter in the 73rd Hunger games.

“But you said you were beginning to like purple… I remember that day, I told you the sunset was the second most beautiful thing i’d ever seen… And the first was right in front of me” I stiffened, though the confession didn’t shock me, looking back I could’ve seen it if I looked hard enough in the moment “And it’s killing me, bevause you’re right in front of me again but you’re like the stars I can’t reach. I… Can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do. And it feels really, really shitty, knowing we might never get through this”

He stands abruptly from his seat “I can’t do this” And he storms out, but I’m clenching my fists too tight to stop, swearing at every god to let this memory stay and not be corrupted by fear. I can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do because if I came closer you’d kill me. Was the truth.

— — —

do we want a part two?!?

part two out now!

#hunger games #books #peeta mellark #peeta supremacy #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark works #peeta mellark imagine #peeta #mellark #peeta mellark x reader

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dtrghost · 1 year

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closeness and proximity

Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.

if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.

(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count: 3.4k

"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.

The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.

"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.

Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.

He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.

"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.

Had she done this all by herself?

He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.

"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.

"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.

Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.

He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.

"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.

"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.

"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.

Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.

"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.

The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.

"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.

"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.

"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.

War.

Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.

"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...

Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.

"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.

"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.

"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."

"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.

"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."

"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.

He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.

She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.

"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.

"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.

"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.

"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.

"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.

"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.

"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.

"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.

"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.

"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.

"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.

"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."

She was a child.

That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.

"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.

"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?

"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.

Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.

When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.

"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.

"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.

Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.

"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.

"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.

"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.

"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.

"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.

"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.

"Envy, huh."

"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.

"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.

"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.

She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.

"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.

"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.

Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.

And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.

See you guys next time!!

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #fanfic #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw price #cod modern warfare

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silasours · 2 months

Text

% 1 ━ Yours Deerly, A .

#chapters : [ previous | next ] #cw : your unique soul that piqued the great alastor's interest; he decided to write letters just for you until you finally reach hell. alastor x gn reader. may include adult themes and mild swearing. #note : quick thank you to @sea-bunniii for helping me with the fic title :3 this is the series I talked about, lmk if you'd like to be tagged! enjoy.

there is nothing around you but darkness for as long as you can remember now.

you never really understood what was happening; you tried pulling yourself out of this pitch-black surrounding but failed. you tried to speak but can't seem to utter a word from your parted lips. you rely on your hearing to keep track of your surroundings, but there's something in particular to note after quite some time. there were times when a strange, muffled radio static voice rang through your ears, words never clear enough for you to comprehend what it was trying to say. times when you'd see a blurred figure standing before you, but never clear enough for even a rough appearance, let alone a name.

millions of possibilities would run through your mind endlessly about them. is this a message for you, or are you just gradually losing your mind and hallucinating? you often try your best to push those thoughts aside while listening to the people around you who talk about your condition. but that, too, didn't bring you any good news. every day you would hear about how your life is merely hanging by a thin thread, that they might lose you any minute as they speak.

you mentally sigh, hoping that death would just swallow you up whole now instead of taking its sweet time. maybe by then, you'll finally gain your freedom back.

"hm." the radio demon squints his eyes slightly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the thin cane he holds. yet another failed attempt. he lifts a hand from the cane and opens his palm, an eerily green glow appears on top until it forms a certain line of words. "looks like this little soul is back in the human world for the time being."

it has been a month since alastor took notice of your soul. your soul that affected him ever so slightly whenever you traveled from the human world and back; it felt like something was lurking in his surroundings when your soul arrived at hell. he ignored it for a couple days, brushing it off as something uninteresting until it lasted for more than a week. with curiosity, he tries his best to wrap his aura around this thing he has been feeling.

noting that it was your soul he was observing, his curiosity grew. your soul would arrive in hell without being in an actual body and find its way to return to the human world. there was not a single effect cast on it, as if it's just a normal travel through countries and cities. nothing like this has ever happened in the underworld, not to alastor's knowledge at least.

as an overload who claims multiple souls, he naturally tried to claim yours as well after seeing the potential of it benefitting him. he tried to insert his voice and appearance into your soul and communicate with you once it returns to your body in the human world, but he failed every time. no matter how many times he improvised his ways, your soul rejects him without struggle.

annoyance started fueling him, yet it is also the sole reason why he has grown more interested in your unique soul. never has he ever struggled this much to obtain a mere soul; usually it could be done with just a snap of his fingers, yet all he could do to your soul is observe and know the place it's in through the aura that he managed to wrap it in.

keeping his head upright, he opens the door of the room that he claimed as his. closing the door behind him, alastor smoothes out his coat while walking down the dimly lit hallway of the hotel. the heel of his shoes thud against the carpet he walks on, chattering gradually growing louder from afar. the light grew brighter down the hallway he passed by until he reached the staircase, now able to view everyone at the main compartment of the hotel from above.

he takes his time walking down the steps, the sound of his heels catches the attention of the blond woman - charlie. her smile grew at the sight of alastor, hurriedly grabbing a small stack of papers from the long table and jogging toward him. alastor widens his smile, tapping on his cane while standing in place.

"why hello there, my friend! you seem busy, what could you possibly be working on?" he watches as charlie clumsily flips through the papers, a slight frown scrunched on her forehead until she finds the paper she needs. she smoothes the paper, turning it to alastor so he's able to read the contents clearly. she clears her throat before speaking.

"alastor, hi! well, you see, is it alright if i ask you for a small, tiny favor?" she seems hesitant to ask judging from her tone.

"why of course! ask away and i shall consider."

"great!" charlie returns to her usual bubbly self, quickly scanning the paper to look for the specific content she needs to show the radio demon. "here, take a look at this. it says here that it's required to write a letter for the request of a big stock sent to our location. and i'm, well.." her hand stretches to scratch the back of her neck nervously, an awkward smile on her face.

"i'm not so good with letters." she tries to relieve her own awkwardness with a chuckle, but it seems it did nothing but made it worse. "i was wondering if you could.. help out with the letters? just this once! I've heard how good you are with words when it comes to letters. please? i don't really have anyone else to ask." charlie gazes at alastor, her eyes shining with hope as her hands clutch tightly onto the papers.

alastor laughs. "i would love to, my dear! it is but mere letters, nothing i can't handle." he extends an arm towards charlie, his fingers stretched out with his palm facing upwards; a gesture to accept the papers and help. the woman excitedly places the papers onto his hand, his fingers now folded to hold the papers firmly. his eyes briefly look through the documents with a small nod of his head. "consider it done. fear not! I'll be able to finish this by dinner."

"thank you so much, alastor!" charlie flashes him a grateful smile before jogging off, feeling relieved without having to worry about finishing something she's not particularly good at. alastor's gaze fall onto the papers he holds, something molding and forming in his head; an idea. he hums to himself as he dives into deep thought, paying no mind to his surrounding for the time being.

if he, the great alastor isn't able to physically reach out to your little soul, there ought to have nothing else that will be able to achieve that as well. though, leaving messages until you physically arrive in hell may help him accomplish his goal. as one first falls into hell, they often get hit by a strong sense of confusion and even panic. if he takes advantage of the emotion you may hold, luring you in with a false sense of security, things will certainly go smoothly and result in success.

his thoughts abruptly got interrupted by vaggie's voice yelling from the kitchen, demanding for everyone to have lunch now that it's all prepared. instead of walking forward, alastor turns around and starts walking up the very same stairs he just walked down minutes ago. he rarely joins them for any group activity; it's only common to see him joining them if the event will benefit him in any way.

a small tune is audible from him humming as he walks, the papers that were once held by him vanish in a split second, leaving behind small traces of dark green sparkles around the area. the chattering grows soft once again the further he walks from the stairs, now walking down the hallway until the familiar door is in his range of view. using the very same aura to push the door open, he enters his room as the door shuts itself behind him.

walking towards his neat working desk, alastor's heart pounds against his chest from the clear idea he has in his head. he sets his cane aside carefully, allowing it to lean against the desk before pulling the plush chair from the elegantly carved table. he sits on the chair, papers and calligraphy pen appearing with a simple snap of his clawed fingers. paying no mind to the letter he should be working on for charlie, the pen straightens from the table by itself and starts scribbling words onto the blank sheet of paper.

he completely sets his focus on the letter he plans to write for you. it's been a while since he picked up his favorite pen to handwrite a letter for someone, the feeling stirs something in his chest. is it excitement? or is it nervousness? even alastor doesn't understand himself. brushing the thought aside, he lowers the pen until the tip comes in contact with the paper lying flat on the surface of the desk. the paper he chose is a special one; it's vintage, like an old paper that has been left sitting in the drawer for years.

it has a sense of familiarity in it, providing comfort in an odd way to alastor. it almost felt like he was writing love letters for someone he doesn't know at all. ink flows from the pen and onto the paper, the small glob of black ink weakly reflecting light from the desk lamp he has. cautiously, he glides the pen across the paper; every stroke and every curve of the words gradually form a sentence, and then a whole paragraph.

he would pause from time to time, digging for the correct words to write in his brain. it was unexpected to even the demon himself, to think that someone like him would spend this much effort for a mere letter. it took almost half an hour for him to finish his first letter to you, signing his name at the bottom with a content heart.

his eyes scan through every word he wrote, reading everything all over again until he confirms that it has no mistake. his fingers reach out to grab the envelope beside him, sliding the neatly folded paper into it. feeling satisfied with his work, alastor seals the letter with wax that has the shape of a radio pressed onto the top.

he holds the letter; it has a color of deep shade red along with a couple of drawn-on flowers. he pulls the drawer that's seated on the lower left of the desk open, revealing an empty compartment. alastor places the sealed letter in the drawer, pushing it back in until there's a click signaling that the drawer is fully closed. he glances at the letter he promised to finish for charlie, finding it now neatly lying on the desk without a single movement.

alastor exhales lightly from his mouth, allowing his back to lean against the chair with his head tilted back. he feels his muscles relax despite never realizing they were tensed before this, eyelids falling, shutting until he sees nothing but darkness.

"ah.. such troubles i need to go through for this little soul."

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

#﹕a dream to nowhere.#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel alastor #hellaverse

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radio-writes · 28 days

Note

I'll go with:

"You win"

"Why should I stay?"

"And what will you do? Run from me?"

It Seems the Devil and I Walked Hand in Hand

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Forced cannibalism, gore, murder, stockholm syndrome

Tags: Alastor x reader, GN reader, yandare, reader goes insane, dead dove do not eat

MDNI

A humid breeze blew through your hair, the putrid stench of Hell carried with it. Somewhere in the distance, something—whatever it may be this time—exploded, prompting usual screams of terror.

But your heart fluttered, eyes fixated on your friend next to you. You sat side by side with them, on a random hilltop the two of you stumbled upon. It was quiet, but barely out of the chaos of the main pentagram.

"What? What is it?" They laughed as they finally called you out on your staring.

You almost swooned as their warm brown eyes met yours. "You just have the prettiest set of eyes in all of Hell, that's all."

You had been so proud of that. So happy about how smooth you were at the delivery. Giddy about the blush that crept onto your friend's face.

The same warm brown eyes—Hell's prettiest, as Alastor so kindly reminded you—stared back at you now.

Unseeing.

Without its owner's head anywhere near.

On a plate placed before you.

Your blood felt like ice as you hung your head low. Unable to think. Unable to feel. Unable to breathe, maybe, you weren't really sure anymore.

"Afraid I might have gotten carried away, dear. I was absolutely starving since you stood me up on our lunch meeting." Alastor's tone was as bright and cheerful as it always was—you could almost argue that it was even happier now. "Of course, I did save you their eyes. I knew how much you just loved them."

He continued on, sighing and swooning about this and that. How it had been a while since he had such a satisfying meal. How it was all thanks to you for leading him to it. How he can't wait to meet more of your friends—if you ever managed to make any after the show he put on for you.

But you sat still, mind unable to comprehend what actually sat in front of you. Alastor might as well have been talking from three rooms away for all you heard from him. His voice almost sounding like it came from underwater, barely able to pierce through the fog in your head.

It was only when the demon who sat across from you stabbed a fork through an eyeball on your plate, did your senses come back. Like a flipped switch, you could hear well again, in time to hear the disgusting squish of the organ, blood and fluids spilling as it was stabbed.

"Don't let it go cold now, my dear. I went through so much trouble to get them intact and still warm for you." Alastor smiled as he sat across you.

One of his elbows rested on the table, hand cradling his cheek as you met his gaze. The gleeful, cold red eyes sickened you much more than the gore he held up. He raised the fork to you. Your friend's eye at the end of it. "Say Aaah~"

You pressed your lips together. Whether to resist the cruel torture, or to keep the bile from coming out, you were unsure.

Like a stubborn child, you shook your head, arms pushing against the table to get up from your seat. Alastor was behind you in seconds, dissolving and rematerializing through shadows faster than you could blink.

"Nuh uh, dearest. We don't waste good food in this Hotel. What would the papers say if they find out we throw away such scarce resource?" He pressed his body against the back of your chair, securing you back at the table with an easy push.

He leaned over your shoulder, long arms reached around you. You stared as his clawed hands planted themselves on the table in front of you, caging you in, framing that horrid plate.

You felt his breath by your ear, that horribly familiar static prickled your skin, before you heard him speak. "You know, I'm starting to think you like how your friends taste."

You swallowed against your dry throat, eyes wide. Every breath you took was shallow as you tried to shake your head only to be met with a mocking laugh.

"No? Come now, why lie, my dear? It's only us here." Alastor leaned closer over you. The heat of his body inescapable. "This is the third friend this month. Even a child would have learned by now."

"I'm all you need, darling. Everyone else is just cattle." His voice distorted as he spoke, a threat, a promise, you knew from experience that he'd deliver on.

Faintly you could feel the weight of metal around your neck. It wasn't physically there, no. After all, it's been a while since you've given him a reason to summon that chain. But it never really ever felt absent, specially at times like this.

You sighed in resignation, and braced yourself for that familiar horrible taste. Your hands clenched into fists on your lap—a sight that delighted the demon behind you.

"You win." You said softly. Numbly, you parted your lips, mind wandering away as you let Alastor slide the fork into your slack mouth. You ignored what it was you were chewing, letting your body function through the motions as you fought to keep your thoughts else were.

You felt a large hand pat your head, bringing you back to the present in time to hear Alastor's praise. "What a good pet you make, my dear."

The plate before you was empty now, Alastor's looming figure having retreated away from your shaking one, back in his seat in front of you.

The horrible rotten taste still lingered in your mouth, but you didn't bother to ask for something to wash it away. You simply stood up, ready to run to your room and force yourself to throw up—again.

"Hm? Running from me now, are we?" Alastor's brows raised as he watched you. "Not that you can, I own you, after all."

You suspected his words were less of a reminder for you, and more on just him loving to say them.

"And why should I stay?" Your words seemed argumentative, but your tone and the hunch of your shoulders were anything but. "I've already finished my punishment."

"I would say it was more of a treat, really. You have no idea how much I wanted to eat those." He laughed, not really minding that you just stared back blankly at him.

"Besides, you've yet to pay me back for leaving me waiting at Rosie's. So come, sit." An invitation to most, an order to you.

So sat you did. You ignored the smudges of blood on the plate still in front of you. You ignored the bitter taste the that lingered in your mouth. You ignored the growing numbness spreading from your chest to the rest of your limbs.

You ignored yourself.

Mindlessly, you nodded along to whatever gossip Alastor had, almost immediately, began sharing with you.

Alastor's hold on you had tightened in the past few months. Not only had he pulled you away from the people at the hotel—you were apparently terribly ill, contagious, but fine under his care—but he had also confiscated your phone and TV.

The window in your room was also simply magicked away. He didn't want you getting any funny ideas of leaving him again, after all.

At first you were fine with it. You had a few books in your room, anyway. But after the first two weeks, you've already finished most of them.

Still, they kept you entertained for a little longer after that; you didn't really mind rereading them—for the fourth time, you think.

But then you had that fight with Alastor. You had asked for your phone back, desperate to know what was going on outside your room. Desperate to listen to your music. Desperate to hear another voice aside from your own.

Alastor merely waved off your concern. He let you keep his radio after all. You could simply listen to him. He talked about current events, and played music, and broadcasted all sorts of screams voices. You didn't need anything else.

He didn't quite take it nicely when you had spat that it wasn't enough.

In the fray that followed, your books were lost. Torn to shreds in seconds.

But no matter, you had thought. You still had some paper, a pencil, some paint. While you weren't the best artist around, you doodled the hours away, anyway. Coloring, sketching, filling out every plain, empty gap on the papers you had.

You were quickly running out of material, though. You'd repeatedly ask Alastor to get you more paper, another pencil, even an eraser, every time he came by. But all he kept saying was that he forgot to fetch some, and that he will surely do so next time.

You were always disappointed, but knew better than to start another fight. You didn't want to risk destroying what little paint you had left, after all.

You had began to doodle on your walls. Counting the little details on the wallpaper, even each and crack along your way. You had drawn everything you ever knew existed; from characters you used to liked when you were alive to a freaking sock on the floor.

The friends he made you eat.

Hastily covered with a drawing of a deer.

By his next visit, Alastor was appalled by the state of your room. He didn't quite appreciate your vandalism. He promptly snapped his fingers and the walls were replaced. Your drawings gone, the wallpaper gone, even the cracks were gone. It was now just a smooth red surface.

He had taken away the paint, not that there was much left at that point. You thought it was fair anyway, considering you did draw on the walls like an irresponsible child.

You tried cleaning too, just to keep your mind going, your body moving. But no, no, no. Alastor couldn't have his dear friend, and a valued hotel guest, doing such menial labor.

He easily cleaned the room for you, not a speck of dust left. Barely any furniture left too—he had found them tacky, apparently.

At that point all you had to look forward to were Alastor's visits. Constant, they were. He insisted he brought you your food personally, of course.

You had been suspicious about what he was feeding you, even once outright questioning what you were eating.

He had laughed. "Unless you made any new friends from this room, I can assure you, you aren't eating any sinners, my dear."

You weren't sure how much his assurance was worth, but food was one of the only two things you actually had here. You didn't feel like giving that up, too.

You hated him. Hated him for keeping you here. Hated him for ignoring all your pleas to be let out.

You hated him, but still found yourself jumping from your bed as soon as you heard the door handle rattle.

You hated him, but him coming to visit meant you had something to do.

The radio by your bed, and Alastor's frequent visits were all you had left.

The isolation was driving you insane, broken only whenever Alastor wanted to.

Alastor was driving you insane, but without him you were completely isolated.

Your sanity felt like a candle burning at both ends, melting far too fast for you to keep it together. You didn't know anymore which torture you preferred. Alastor's presence or absence?

At least, that was a few weeks back.

Because it wasn't like you needed to choose now.

Your food had been appearing on your side table every meal time, instead of coming in carried by the familiar demon.

The radio beside you had been silent for a long while now. Not one terrified scream, not one jazzy tune, not even empty static.

And of course, Alastor himself hadn't come in to see you in weeks.

You think it's been weeks, at least. He took the clock with him last time he cleaned.

No, there was no need to pick your poison anymore. Alastor had chosen for you.

At first, you had been bitter. How dare he ignore you—or did he forget about you? God, no, he wouldn't. Right? —how dare he not even check in to see if you were even still alive.

How dare he not visit.

And then, you were worried. It was one thing for him not to pop in on you, another thing entirely to miss his shows. He'd never miss an opportunity to broadcast fear over Pride Ring, but your radio had been quiet this whole time. What was keeping him, then? Was he hurt? Was he okay?

Then, and you think it was the worst of them all, you started to miss him. From the moment you woke from restless slumber, your eyes fixated on the door handle, begging it to turn. Your chest ached, praying to hear his silly staticy voice again, even if it was just senseless gossip.

You felt like screaming, begging, pounding on the door for him to visit you. But you knew he wouldn't like that. No, if the others in the hotel found out, Alastor would likely never visit you ever again.

So you kept to your bed. Your days spent glaring down at the door in desperation, switching only to the radio to do the same, for hours on end. Every little shift you made, the sheets moving under you, felt so deafeningly loud in the empty room.

It was almost maddening.

"My dear, I have a task for you." Alastor's cheery voice spoke up by your ear.

Your eyes snapped open, greeted by the sight of the demon leaning over your head.

"Nothing too difficult, just a little grocery shopping." He continued on as if he hadn't left you to rot.

You didn't care, nor did you register what his words meant. No, the first thing your body jumped to, your mind went to, was that Alastor was here.

"Al!" The glee in your voice unrestricted as you pushed your sheets away and threw your arms around him. The relief, the absolute refreshment, of feeling another warm body against you again was almost heavenly.

A soft hand patted at your shoulder as he awkwardly stayed there. "Well, good morning to you too, sweetheart." He laughed.

You sat up, eyes wide as you leaned away and took him in. Unmistakably, a very welcomed sight.

He told you about the chore he needed done, truly very simple. Just a literal grocery list. But you held onto every word, every charming staticy syllable falling from his lips as if he was preaching your religion.

You were determined to memorize it all, not just to complete the task but to simply engrave his voice in your head.

You were so thankful to finally hear something other than your creaky bed. To finally be having a conversation again. To feel human.

It hadn't even click for you that you will finally be heading out.

You were quick in getting the task done, determined to get back to Alastor as fast as you could.

You hadn't notice how your skin thawed in the outside heat compared to the icy room you've been locked in. You hadn't paid mind to everyone's greetings around you. You didn't care for all the flashing lights, and tasty smells, and loud music and laughter and screams around you as finished you little assignment.

You wanted to get things done so you could be by the familiar demon again. His presence almost felt like a drug you've been deprived off for so long, that it physically irked you to be away.

And that's how it was from then on.

You were given a new room at the hotel. Alastor had replaced all the books he destroyed because he just felt so guilty. He had also finally remembered to buy you all those papers and art supplies you asked him to get you. And he had even returned your phone and television to you.

Not that you cared for any of those. You've spent most of your time in Alastor's room anyway, unable to stand a second without hearing his voice.

You'd cling onto every word he'd say, attentive, obsessed.

Your eye would twitch every time he'd mention someone, anyone. Part of you irritated that he had spent time with someone else other than you. Even more so that he cared enough to remember their name. To say their name.

Soon you not only clung onto his words, but onto him as well. Unable to stand that others spent time with him when you could not. You'd miss meals, miss sleep, drop whatever you were doing to follow him wherever he went. To stay by Alastor's side.

When he forbade you from doing so, you would follow in secret, or have your own little ways to spy on him. To know what he was doing.

The few times you were away from your owner's side, you could be found standing over a dead sinner. Maybe someone who touched him, maybe someone he mentioned, maybe someone who simply glanced at him for far too long for your liking. Regardless, they were all equally deserving of death in your eyes. How dare they.

Alastor knew of these, of course. And while he was quickly growing suffocated by your constant overbearing presence, he hadn't really bothered to say much.

He still preferred this—this grotesque reflection of his own affections for you—over your defiant little attitude before.

His last straw, however, was now. When you stood over yet another sinner. The light gone from their eyes as you still, repeatedly, shot at their corpse.

The green chain appeared in his clenched fist for the first time in a long while. The collar snapped shut around your neck, but you hadn't even noticed until he gave it a harsh yank.

You were pulled to the side, stumbling over the body by your feet. You looked up, confused, to see Alastor snarling down at you.

"I needed him alive, dear." He said, his annoyance barely kept under control.

"He touched you." You merely replied, as if it was the worst offense, worst sin, in Hell.

"Because we were making a deal, you stupid pest!" Alastor hissed through his teeth, but you merely blinked at him as if you didn't see his point still.

You stood up straighter, keeping your eyes on him. Always on him.

He was so beautiful, so perfect. Everything you needed.

Why had you ever wanted to find anyone more?

"But he still held your hand."

"I'll touch who I want to touch. Do not forget who holds the leash here." His eyes narrowed, chain pulling taught between you.

You smiled at him, loving the way his voice sounded when he was getting angry. It rarely happened now considering how good you were for him, but oh, did it sound like music to you.

Your hands lifted to softly run your hands through the chain by your neck. "You do, of course. I don't question that."

"I need you, Al." You added, soft, almost loving expression on your face as your adored his furious red eyes. "And while I can't force you to stay with me, alone. I can simply just get rid of everyone else. I can be your only one, if I'm the only one left."

"So you've finally flew off the handle, dearest?" His question seemed genuine, not at all in jest.

But you laughed anyway, as if it was the funniest thing ever. "And what if I have?" You grinned at him. "What will you do? Run from me?"

Your fingers gripped the chain suddenly, yanking yourself forward, closer to him. You feel his pull against the chain as well, not to bring you close but simply to keep hold of it. To keep hold of his control over you.

Your eyes lowered, admiring him from up close now. The flicker of uncertainty in his eyes was new, and you couldn't wait to see more new things from him now that you're so devastatingly devoted to him.

"You own me, remember? I'm here forever."

#tw: forced cannibalism #tw: murder #tw: stockholm syndrome #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #vien writes #follower event #I told myself I'd keep these ones short and simple #but i do not have much self control #also i am fixated on Alastor's cannibalism right now if you couldn't tell

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iwaasfairy · 3 months

Text

ETCHED IN RED | RUBY Part 2

tw. noncon, unreliable narrator, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, yandere wordcount. 1k

read part 1 here or see the valentine's masterlist

kozume kenma x reader

You’ve started counting the spots on the walls in the dark. You’re no longer all that sure if the spots are actually there, but because you don’t have the chance to walk up and check— this is the next best thing. Your eyes have gotten used to the dim light of the semi-basement, and the dry air, and the lack of heat. It would have made you cry a few days, or weeks ago. Maybe- it’s been a month. Might be two. When you got so ill even Kenma couldn’t hide his concern, you stopped counting. And that only started feeling like a critical mistake when you had no choice but to admit.

You have no fucking clue how long it’s been.

Your ears perk up when they make something out over the static. Maybe not exactly a familiar voice, but a voice, ever so faintly sounds from the ceiling above you. Where you know Kenma does his work. Where you know he misses you from up there. You only saw it once before you were led down here, the big room with bright, open windows, much unlike how you know Kenma to be now. He’s guarded and protective and keeps his feelings close. You can’t imagine Kenma to long for freedom like you do…

But still, you want to believe it.

Instead he’s here with you, cherishing you, staying with you. Feeding and caring for you when he has the time. You shouldn’t think back to those windows, with the easy latch and flowy curtains. That’s what tempted you to fight and escape a few times, even when you only ended up worse. You weren’t chained to the wall until you ran. Weren’t tied up until you tried to slice his face open with the shard of the mirror you kicked, and now you don’t even really remember what you look like.

Kenma does, and he seems to like what he sees. When he’s rubbing his thumb along your brows and down the bridge of your nose - it matters a little less that you don’t know. When he helps you untangle your hair, or lets you into the bath. You weren’t even stripped of your clothes until you tried to strangle yourself with your shirt after struggling to adapt for weeks. Oh, it must’ve been at least two months then.

The sound of Kenma talking is so muffled that it’s hard to imagine he’s talking to anyone in the room. Maybe a phone call? After a while, you start getting restless. Start rocking the bed until it bangs against the wall twice and the door to the stairs trembles. Then you try to turn onto your side to get a little comfortable, arms still tied to the bed. Still numb.

Until you hear the familiar sound of soft feet walking down, and the key clicks against the metal of the lock. Kenma thought you important enough to hang up. You can’t help but feel warm at that thought, but you try not to focus on that. You shouldn’t be jealous when he’s trying his best. That’s what he says, and when you don’t hear anyone’s voice except for his for long enough, your internal monologue starts to sound like him too. “You’re being noisy again…” he sighs as he opens the door, hair pulled back from his face into a messy bun. “What’s wrong?”

Your entire body seems to perk up at the sound. He drags himself closer, and sits down on the edge of the bed just out of reach. A slight breeze goes along your bare thighs and bare tits and makes you shiver, and Kenma’s long fingers reach out to brush circles at your ankle. “What? You just lonely?”

“M-missed you,” your voice rasps, painful and tight. “Just wanna see you.” You sound like you haven’t had a drink all day, and after racking your mind, that’s probably true. It aches to swallow; almost as much as the dryness in the air. Instead of shying away from his touch, you lean into it as much as possible, and let him run his fingers up your shin to your thigh.

An almost imperceptible smile comes onto his lips, before he scoots closer and makes you bounce with the movement, starting to grin. “You’re much more lovey dovey nowadays.” His cat-like eyes focus on your face then, as he seems to gather what you’re thinking just from the furrow in your brow. “It’s not a bad thing… I think it’s cute. I didn’t like it when I had to constantly chase you around or fight you.”

His long fingers cup your cheek with a binding intensity, as he just seems to indulge in the sight of you. Splayed, submissive beneath him. You know him well enough now to say it’s how he likes you best. You like it too when you don’t have to fight. “‘M cold,” you sigh then, watching as Kenma’s eyes start glittering with a special kind of joy. One reserved for only you. You used to find it frightening, when you first got here.

“You’re always cold, huh?” The hand slides down your neck, brushing along your collarbones to make you shiver. “Want me to warm you up?” Without hesitating, he slips his hands under your dull, crinkled shirt and traces it up your ribs to your tits. The touch is enough to have you tremble into his hands, enjoying the interaction maybe too much. You’re mewling like it’s your job, and his name is the only thing on your lips. It took a while to feel okay about letting him slip his hands down to pull off the boxers, his— your panties got taken the first day you got here.

Kenma had been overeager, curious - he’d scared you. Now you just get scared when you wake up and Kenma isn’t in the house. Your body curls into the searching touches of his skillful fingers when they brush over the beginning wetness of your lips, and push a knuckle to grind against your clit. “When I first found you, I didn’t know you’d be so difficult, y’know,” he sighs into your mouth before kissing you, “you’re lucky you’re so cute. Make me wanna put up with you.” His fingers turn to rub you open, and your legs spread for him too eager.

“Kenma, pl-please, more.”

Whining. Pleading. You’ve become something you no longer recognize— Kenma takes the loneliness away for a few hours. He chuckles as you clamp your legs around his hand like you’re scared he’ll pull away, and your chest desperately moves up and down. “Hmh,” he smiles, “does that feel good? What a pretty, little pet, whining for me to fill her up.”

It makes the slight grin on his pretty mouth grow, until he is brushing your cheek with a distant look. His tongue brushes past his lips to taste you on him, before dipping closer to you and grinding his hand deeper into your clenching pussy. “What do you think about a trip to Brazil?”

#tw.noncon #tw.yandere #tw.kidnapping #kozume kenma smut #🍯honey.pot #haikyuu smut #dark content

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spiderceo · 3 months

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− ⌗ vaudeville vows ⊹.∿

summary; in the middle of the night, an unwelcome guest makes an appearance at your piano. he brings you offers of fame and fortune for only the small price of your soul…

tags; gender-neutral reader, reader can sing and play piano, manipulation, alastor being unsettling, probs gonna be slow burn <3

word count; 1.9k

pairing; alastor x reader

a/n; ive never written for alastor before and this kind of character is outside my comfort zone. im hoping to make this into a multi-part story so let me know thoughts and such. reposts are greatly appreciated ^^

master post | part two

The piano that sat in your apartment was barely played anymore. Ever since you picked up more shifts at work to help pay your ever increasing bills, there wasn’t enough time in the day to play. You badly wanted to sit down and glide your fingers over the keys again, but every time you got home from work you were too tired. Today was just the same.

You had finally just gotten cozy in bed when you heard the sound of a singular key being pressed. That was enough to stir you and make you sit upright in bed. Your body froze in the darkness, brow furrowed, as your strained your ears to listen again. The silence was deafening all until you heard not just a note, but a chord being played.

Someone was in your home.

Your heart raced at the thought of someone breaking in. Adrenaline ran through your veins as your reached for your phone. The bright screen strained your eyes as you typed in the number for emergency services. Slipping carefully out of bed, you avoided all the floorboards you knew to be squeaky. Even the slightest of ruffles from your duvet sounded so loud in the dead of night.

You kept the emergency number on your screen, thumb poised to hit the call button the moment you were sure someone was there. Moving towards the living room, you could feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavily in the air. Anxiety crept up your neck as you reached the doorway and poked your head around it, expecting to see a murderer or a robber.

Instead, you were met with a surprising sight. There, sitting at your piano, was a figure cloaked in shadows, positioning their hands on the ivory keys. Then they began to play. The song you recognised was from your childhood. Your grandad had a vast collection of vintage vinyl records and this song appeared on one of them.

‘Ain’t Misbehavin’’ by Fats Waller.

You stood there mesmerised by the stranger’s skilful performance, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t until the other instruments in the song began to play that you were truly dumbfounded. It sounded like they were coming from an old radio, just like the one your grandad also happened to own.

You were unsure of what to do. Call the police? The number was still pulled up on your phone. Confronting them might end up in you being attacked. But something about the music held you captive, it drew you closer a few steps. That was a mistake. One creak of your floorboards and the music was reduced to radio static. A glint of red shone through the dark as you stood there like a deer in headlights.

Piercing carmine eyes held your wide-eyed stare. They bore holes into you and you could have sworn you felt your skin burning. You didn’t so much as breathe as you waited for the shadowed figure to make their next move. The only light in the room came from the city beyond your curtains and the phone which was slowly slipping from your grasp. When it hit the floor, the stranger’s eye twitched before they turned around fully on the stool to look at you.

The lights in your apartment flickered on and you almost let out a scream at the sight of the creature posed at your piano. His wide uncanny grin held the sharpest teeth you had ever seen in your life. Just that alone was enough to make you want to turn in run. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“Ah, it seems I have an audience,” the voice came out like it was filtered, playing through the same radio that the instruments were coming from before. “I hope you don’t mind the impromptu performance. Your piano was simply too tempting to resist!” the make voice sounded smooth but with an edge of menace to it.

Torn between fear and curiosity, you hesitated with your next move. He just sat there grinning at you with wide eyes as he waited for your response. The crackling of a radio filled the void as you considered your options. This creature was such a stark contrast to your home and yet here he was, sat playing your piano as though he belonged. It was disturbing to say the least.

“What do you want?” you managed to choke out, your voice sounding quieter than you intended.

The creature chuckled as though you were the most amusing thing he had seen in a while. It send a chill down your spine as he crossed his legs and continued to eye you up without a change in his expression. That ever-present smile twisted as he spoke once more.

“Oh, nothing much, my dear. Just a bit of entertainment to lighten my mood,” he moved his hands as he spoke, swirling his wrists dramatically. “After all, what harm could a little music do?” with a flourish, he stood from the stool snd began inspecting various things in your living room. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he looked through your bookshelf silently.

You felt like the odd thing out right now despite this being your home.

You watched the creature as he looked at you over his shoulder before dissipating into the shadows. It happened so fast that is you blinked, you would have missed it. As you stood there, a new feeling of unease settled in the room. The piano beckoned you to it, its keys whispering a siren’s song that promised you happiness.

With trembling hands, you approached the instrument, still feeling the presence of the creature’s lingering charm. You couldn’t place what he was and that somehow felt worse than actually knowing. Your mind was trying to come up with any rational explanation for what just happened to you, but every string of thought came back blank. You started to consider the impossible and the supernatural. A wendigo, perhaps? The small, twisting horns on his head certainly suggested that but he didn’t look like any of the usual depictions of the folklore anomaly. What about a demon?

A demon.

Oh god, what if you just let a demon into your home? You stared straight ahead at the piano with fear building inside you. Despite your current mood, your hands rose to rest on the keys. There was an undeniable allure to the piano, a yearning to finish the demon’s song and fill the room with music that had been silenced for too long.

Taking a deep breath, you tentatively placed your fingers on the correct chords and hesitantly pressed down. The sound was uncertain at first, rusty and unpracticed. As you continued to play, however, the rhythm of it all came back naturally. You really hoped your neighbours wouldn’t mind you playing in the middle of the night.

With each note, you felt more at ease. It was a rather good distraction from what had just happened to you. You had almost convinced yourself you were just seeing things. With how exhausted you had been recently, you just chalked it up to being sleepy. The worries you had faded away and were replaced with the joy your music brought. You forgot about the intruder, going to bed, your unpaid bills, and all the responsibilities waring you down. All that mattered was the music, a beacon of light cutting through the dark that was your life at the moment.

As the final notes rang out, you closed your eyes with a peaceful smile. Whatever may come, you knew the music would always be there as a source of solace in times of need.

“Impressive, my dear. It seems you have a great talent for music,” a voice crooned in your ear, it dripped with honeyed malice, “But imagine what you could achieve with a little…assistance.”

Your eyes snapped open as you pushed yourself backwards and put as much distance between you and the demon as possible. The piano stool was now lying sideways on the floor as you moved with urgency.

So you weren’t just seeing things because you were tired. There really was a demon in your home and he seemed pretty adamant on conversing with you. Despite his charming voice, you knew his words were not to be trusted. Not only had he broken into your home, he had played your beloved piano. And now he was trying to offer you something by the sounds of it. Classic demon stuff.

“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously, now happy with the distance you put between the two of you. The demon’s grin widened more than you thought was possible, more teeth visible than before. “I propose a deal,” he said, voice dripping with temptation. “I give you piano lessons, help hone your skills, and guide you on the path to fame and fortune. In exchange, when the time comes for you to depart this world and enter the depths of hell, your soul will belong to me.”

Your heart raced at the offer. The promise of fame and success would be tempting for almost anyone, but the thought of selling your soul to a demon made you reconsider. “Is it worth it?” you asked yourself but he obviously heard you.

“The pleasures of fame are beyond compare!” He exclaimed, arms gesturing widely. “It’s much better than that awful dead end job you have now, that’s for sure. Think of giving up your soul for this as a small price to pay for greatness.”

You didn’t know what drug he infused with his words, but they were seriously making you consider this. The thought of being a master pianist who was loved and admired by millions was a silly dream you had when you were a kid. Now it was a single hand shake away. It was almost too enticing to resist but deep down, you knew that no amount of fame was worth the cost of your soul.

With steely resolve, you met the demon’s eyes and shook your head. “I’ll pass.” you said firmly, your voice tinged with whatever confidence you had in you at that moment. Who knew what denying a demon his feed would do.

The entity’s eye twitched, a look of annoyance crossing his features. The grin he kept on his face turned tense as a glint of frustration passed through his glowing eyes. Suddenly, all those emotions were gone as he put on a bright persona again.

“Ah, well,” he dismissed casually, waving his hand as though the encounter never happened. “The offer still stands should you ever change your mind. Until then, I bid you adieu, my dear musician.”

With a flourish, the demon disappeared into the shadows. The light went with him and you were left to stand in the darkness. The only light was coming from your phone which still lay on the floor with the emergency services number on the dial pad.

You were truly alone with your thoughts now. The fading echoes of his proposal stuck with you. You turned back to the piano and glared through the dark to see a piece of paper sat against the music desk. At the top of the sheet, the name ‘Alastor’ was written in elegant cursive. It didn’t take an idiot to figure out that this was the demon’s name.

Judging by the way he left, you were certain that this would not be the last time you’d be seeing him.

part two

#alastor x reader #gender neutral reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #x reader #reader insert #vaudeville vows

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burntheedges · 3 months

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Maintenance Request: Chapter 10

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 5k

chapter summary: so you texted Joel back, but you haven't really talked since you saw him across the quad on Friday. what's going to happen at work on Monday? a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 chapter tags/warnings: angst, misunderstandings, fluff, flirting, kissing, full tags and notes about reader on main post, pet names (new ones: honey, baby)

Chapter 10

Monday, October 21 Ninth week of the semester

On Monday morning you were flustered and nervous before you even left your house. You’d barely slept, tossing and turning all night because you couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation that awaited you. You knew Joel would seek you out, and you knew you’d been short with him over text.

You knew you might be assuming the worst, but every time you tried to talk yourself out of it you heard his voice again — placating you, convincing you that you were seeing things. Telling you not to worry. He spent two years training you to second guess yourself and even now, five years out of that relationship with a lot of therapy behind you, it was hard to push the voice away.

You ended up having to rush out of the door after uselessly dithering over your worries and your outfit. You were almost late, again. You tried to put it all aside as you walked from your garage to your building that morning, taking deep breaths in time with your steps. Joel isn’t like Matt. They have nothing in common. The idea was reassuring on its face, but didn’t really help. You tried to focus on getting to your office and the work you needed to do that you’d accidentally left behind on Friday in your haste to get away from campus.

As you entered the quad and your building came into view, you realized something was wrong. There was a large group of men in hard hats milling around outside, and they had roped off your building at a distance of about 15 feet. You felt your heart rate pick up. What now?

As you approached the building, you noticed a familiar set of shoulders. Joel was standing on the outside of the crowd, arms crossed, brows furrowed. He wasn’t in a vest or hardhat this time. And the same woman from Friday, the one you were so worried about — she was standing right next to him. Your breath caught in your throat as you froze.

You needed to get closer to see what was going on, and at the same time, you needed to get as far away from here as possible. The warring impulses pinned you in place on the path. You tried to breathe and decide what to do but your brain felt like it was static — white noise and nothing else.

Just as you managed to shift your weight, Joel noticed you. He looked, well… Joel was always happy to see you, you realized in that moment. Always smiling, chin up, shoulders relaxed. But right then he looked apprehensive, too. You knew that was probably your fault, but that voice in your head that sounded like Matt told you maybe it was because he was caught, and he knew it. You shook it away and took a deep breath before closing the distance between you and him. Joel met you in the middle.

“Mornin’, darlin’, I’m sorry about all this—” A loud BANG from your building interrupted him and your eyes widened as a plume of smoke seemed to erupt from the roof.

“Joel, what—” you gulped. “What’s going on?” He reached out to put his hand on your elbow, but you stepped away. The look on his face as you pulled away from him hurt — it was disappointment and worry and rejection, all at once. It hit you like a punch to the stomach but you steeled yourself against it. “I have to get in there, Joel! I need—” BANG. The sound interrupted you again. You winced.

Joel was shaking his head when you looked back to meet his gaze. “You can’t go in right now, I’m sorry. There’s an issue with the ventilation and the gas line, they’re tryin’ to get it cleaned up. Mostly done now but it hasn’t been cleared yet.”

You felt dizzy. Joel was looking at you like you’d broken his heart just by stepping away from him a moment before, and the woman whose mere presence had set off all of your insecurities was standing just five feet away, watching the entire painful interaction. You took in a shaky breath and realized you felt tears gathering at the back of your eyes. No, you refuse to cry. Not here.

“Joel, I— I have to get in there! I have class in less than half an hour, everything I need is in my office. What—” you realized you were panicking and tried to take a deep breath. You knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, that you could handle class without getting to your office. But this was just one more thing on top of all of the stress you’d felt all weekend, and it was one too many. Your pitch rose as you babbled and you knew your hands were shaking.

Joel watched you, and you saw him start to reach out before cutting off the movement. He curled his hand into a fist at his side and his jaw set as he seemed to come to a decision.

“What is it that you need?” Something about the intensity of his gaze compelled you to answer his question.

“Just— just the papers I left by my keyboard. But Joel—” you opened your mouth to say it wasn’t that important, you were just stressed, it would be fine, but he had already turned. “Joel, wait!”

He waved his arm back at you, yelling that he’d be back, and disappeared into the crowd. “Shit.” You cursed and closed your eyes, tilting your head back.

You heard the woman, who was still standing next to you, clear her throat.

“So, I’m Tess.” You opened your eyes to see her holding her right hand out to you with an amused look on her face. “You must be the gorgeous professor who doesn’t hate Joel’s guts. At least, he thought you didn’t.” She quirked an eyebrow at you and you blinked in surprise.

“I, um—” you realized you were leaving her hanging and reached your hand out to shake hers. “He did say that was me… yes.” You felt unmoored by this sudden friendly conversation. You realized she’d probably just watched that entire interaction you’d had with Joel.

Tess seemed to consider you, tilting her head to the side, taking you in. Suddenly her eyebrows rose and she smiled. “Joel’s my best friend. Has been for about 10, 15 years now.”

You blinked at her, perplexed. “What?”

She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Look, I’m just going to be direct. I’m getting the feeling you got a different impression of my relationship with Joel, when we saw you on Friday. So you know, just letting you know. He’s like my annoying older brother.” She raised her eyebrows at you, waiting for you to get it.

Shit.

You suddenly sucked in a deep breath and then laughed, a little hysterically. “Shit.” You said it out loud this time. “I—“ you shook your head, glad Tess was still smiling at you. “I’m such an idiot. I just—” you wiped your hands down your face and sighed. “I don’t want you to think I thought he was that kind of guy. This… it just reminded me of an, um, issue from my past. And I guess I overreacted. But I knew it wasn’t like him, even without, um. Knowing him that well, I guess. I was going to try to talk to him today.” You were rambling, and you knew it. You weren’t sure why you were explaining it to her, other than just not wanting her to think badly of you. His best friend. Shit.

She nodded. “I figured. From the way he’s been talking about you, I knew you were… well. Sounded like the two of you were on the same page.” You nodded. “He’s in pretty deep already, you know.”

“Yeah, I just… just got all in my head about it, I guess. I’ll, um. I’ll talk to him about it, like I said. Explain myself.” You cleared your throat nervously. “I’m, um. I’m in pretty deep, too.” Tess smiled in response, clearly amused.

Any further conversation was interrupted by Joel shouting your name from closer to the building. You looked up to see him jogging towards you, holding a familiar stack of papers up in his left hand. He was smiling at you, expression hesitant but full of hope. Your breath caught.

He came to a stop right in front of you, and held the papers out to you. You felt stunned. You looked down at them, but made no move to take them before looking back up to meet his eyes. His smile started to fade the longer you stood there and he looked even more unsure. You could see his face starting to close off to you. You couldn’t stand it.

“I thought you were dating Tess.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them, needing to do or say anything you could to stop him looking at you like that. He blinked, and his mouth dropped open. You heard Tess snort from somewhere to your left, but you couldn’t look away from Joel.

“You—” he started, and seemed to work his jaw, looking for the words. “Ah, no, darlin’. I’m not.”

You nodded, faintly. “I know. She told me.”

“I, um—” Joel thrust the papers towards you again. “I grabbed your papers for you.” You took them this time, almost on autopilot, looking down at them in your hands. You paused, for a moment too long, before looking back up at him. His expression had fallen even further and your heart clenched in your chest. “Darlin’, I’m not sure what happened, but I’m real so—”

This was too much. You sprang into motion, and he cut himself off to watch as you stuffed the papers in your bag, unthinking, and dropped it right there on the ground. Threw it down, really. He watched you with a perplexed look on his face.

“You’re not dating Tess.” He shook his head, still confused. Eyed your bag where it landed on the ground, looking like maybe he wanted to pick it up for you. You stepped closer to him.

“And you just ran inside the building to grab these papers for me. Which weren’t even that important.” In pretty deep. You heard Tess’ words echo again in your head.

Joel blushed. “Darlin’, I—”

You didn’t let him finish. You reached out, hands still a bit shaky, and grasped the front of his plaid shirt. Before he could react, you hauled him forward and leaned in to meet his lips with your own. Hard.

You heard and felt Joel breathe in through his nose in surprise, and for a moment neither of you moved — you were frozen, eyes closed, your lips pressed together, no other point of contact except your hands clutching his shirt. You started to wonder if you had it all wrong, after all, if maybe he didn’t—

And then Joel seemed to burst into motion. His hands slid around your shoulders and back, bringing you closer and holding you against him. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, and suddenly you weren’t aware of anything else, not anymore. Nothing but the way he held you in his arms and the way he stole your breath, moving his lips softly against yours.

You weren’t sure how long the kiss had lasted — it could have been 10 seconds or 10 minutes — when Tess cleared her throat and you stumbled back from each other in surprise. Joel’s right hand stayed huge and warm on your hip as you stared at each other. His hair was tousled — did you do that? — and his lips were swollen and red. Your eyes locked on to them, unable to look anywhere else. You watched as he smiled, all hesitance and uncertainty gone from his expression.

“I believe one of you needs to go teach, and the other needs to go oversee what’s going on with the building.” Tess sounded a bit smug. You blinked.

“Shit!” You exclaimed, again. “What time is it?” You finally turned your eyes from Joel, but didn’t step away.

Tess rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “You have five minutes, teach. Better get going.” You nodded.

When you turned back to Joel, you found he was still looking at you. “I have to go, I have class but Joel, later? We’ll talk?” You smiled, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, and raised your hand to touch his shoulder again. He nodded. His gaze held you in place like you were magnetized.

“Ahem.” Tess was really laughing at the two of you now.

“Right! Ok, I’m going.” You bent down to gather your bag, wincing as you got a look at the mess it had become inside. Joel’s hand finally fell from your hip and you felt the loss of its warmth. “Later?”

He nodded and spoke for the first time since you’d kissed him. His voice was even deeper than usual and it rumbled over you, sending a shiver down your spine. “You can count on it, darlin’.”

You took a few steps backwards, eyes locked on Joel’s, before turning. “It was nice to meet you, Tess!” She called back the same, and then as you started to walk faster to get to your class, you heard her start to tease him.

“Hates your guts, huh?”

“Can it.” His sarcastic tone and her laughter was the last thing you heard as you turned the corner and started to jog towards your building. You grinned, feeling lighter than you had in days.

…

You floated through your class like you had no worries in the world — aside from the stack of assignments stuffed in your bag that you hadn’t actually been able to grade. Your students didn’t seem concerned, but they did notice your ridiculously good mood. You shrugged it off. “The coffee’s just good today, I guess.” A couple of them smiled, a couple of them groaned. That was about right.

By the time you made it back to your building, whatever the issue was had been cleared up and the crowd of hard hats was gone. You felt a twinge of disappointment, knowing Joel probably had other things to do across campus, but shook your head. He’d come find you later. He’d promised.

You finally made it to your office and started to unpack your bag at your desk, glancing around to see if anything was amiss, but no. Everything was in place aside from the stack of papers you returned to the desk from your bag, a bit crumpled after all the manhandling they had endured. You sat to get started on grading — you had a while before your office hours and afternoon class — when there was a knock at your door.

Your eyes snapped up to the edge of the door where it was slightly open. “Come in!” You called, and your breath caught as a familiar hand came into view, wrapping around the edge of the door to push it open. You stood up almost before you even realized you were moving.

Joel came into view, and for a moment the two of you just stared at each other — you, standing at your desk, one hand still on your mouse, the other gripping the edge in front of you. Joel, standing just inside of your door, hand holding the frame so tight his knuckles turned white. He looked more handsome than ever.

“Darlin’, I—”

“Joel! You—”

You started to talk at the same time, and then both of you laughed. Your smiles broke the tension and you moved forward around your desk. He closed the door and met you in between the visitor chairs, hands coming up to lightly hold your own. “Hey there, gorgeous.” He greeted you with the half smile that always made you feel lighter. “Fancy meeting you here.” You laughed, and squeezed his hands in yours to pull him even closer as you leaned back to prop yourself against your desk.

You bit your lip as you took him in. “Long time no see.”

He leaned in and hummed in response. He placed his lips so close to your ear you could feel his breath, and murmured, “I don’t want to let another moment pass with any misunderstandings, darlin’, so let’s get a couple things straight.” He ghosted his lips against your hairline in a soft kiss. “The only person I want to date is you. I’m sorry you doubted that, even for a second.”

You shook your head. “No, Joel, it’s not your fault. I saw something and let my mind run away with me, I didn’t even talk to you about it. I, um, well—” He kissed you again, just in front of your ear, and you sighed and tilted your head to give him better access. It bolstered you when he took the invitation as it was intended and kissed you again, softly, on the cheek. “I had a… bad experience. With an ex. I reacted based on that, not because of anything you did. I don’t want you thinking this was your fault at all, I—”

“Shh,” he hushed you softly and met your eyes. “I understand. You don’t have to tell me about it right now, it’s ok.” He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead and the tenderness in the gesture made your breath catch. You squeezed his hands even tighter, suddenly feeling like you might cry with relief. “I was so worried you’d changed your mind. I was determined to fix it, whatever it was I’d done. But I didn’t want to push, ’n I wanted to wait until I saw you in person, ‘stead of trying to hash it out in text messages.”

You shook your head, and smiled at your past self and how much you’d let yourself spiral over the weekend. “Ellie and Beth both told me I was being silly, spiraling for no reason without talking to you. But it really was a reaction from my past, Joel. I mean…” you trailed off, and he caught your eye, encouraging you to continue. “The only reason I was so upset is because of how much I like you.” You bit your lip, and it drew his eyes like a magnet.

“Darlin’, I was stewin’ all weekend, worried you might not let me take you out anymore. You got no idea how much I like you.” You smiled and buried your face in the collar of his flannel shirt. Joel took the opportunity to release your hands and slide his own across your back, pulling you close. You felt their path across your body like a brand. “Pretty glad you kissed me this morning, too. Been wanting to hold you like this.”

“Oh?”

He hummed, and slid one hand up to cup the back of your neck, where you marveled at its size. The other found a new home on your lower back. “Been trying to take it slow, gorgeous.” You smiled into his neck and wrapped your own arms around his waist before lifting your chin and pressing a soft kiss there, just inside his collar.

Joel groaned and let his forehead fall to your shoulder. “We’re still on for Friday, right?” He mumbled into your neck, pressing his own gentle kisses up higher and higher until you could feel his breath on your ear again.

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed, sinking into the feeling of being in his arms and feeling his lips on your skin. “You gonna kiss me again?” You teased him, pressing a kiss just below his jawline. He smirked against your neck.

“I am kissin’ you, darlin’,” he punctuated his statement with a soft kiss just behind your ear. You pulled back.

“You know what I mean, Joel Miller.” You realized at some point in the last few minutes you’d perched up on the very edge of your desk and he’d pressed forward into the open space between your knees. You weren’t quite pressed together, but you were close.

“You want me to kiss you, honey?” The new endearment slipped right down your spine and settled there at the base like a warm ember. You pulled him closer and brought your lips a hair’s breadth away from his.

“Thought I made that pretty clear on the sidewalk earlier.” He laughed, and you felt it against your own lips like a caress.

“That you did. You know how much ribbing I got for that later?”

It was your turn to laugh, picturing the other guys giving him a hard time. “Oh? What’d they say?”

He shook his head and hummed. “I’ve been encouraged to get a room, but also congratulated on punching so far above my weight class.” You scoffed while he smiled at you.

“Do I need to remind you of your nickname? Hot Construction Guy?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Baby, whatever I am, I don’t hold a candle to you.”

Before you could protest — Joel was the most attractive man you’d ever seen, after all, and it wasn’t even close — he leaned forward and kissed you again.

It was even better this time.

You were more present — less frazzled, less confused, less stressed — and you sank smoothly into his kiss. He pressed his lips against yours with intent, with gentle passion that immediately sank its hooks in you and latched on tight. His lips were soft and pliant against yours and the sensation awakened something in you that felt heady and deep.

You wanted more.

Joel stepped closer, bringing himself flush against you. You sighed into his mouth. He teased you with his tongue against your lower lip before deepening the kiss, tongue sliding against your own.

You took your own opportune moment to place both of your hands in his back pockets and squeeze. Joel moaned, softly, and it was the best sound you’d ever heard.

You could feel your own interest and arousal growing. But then he softened the kiss, pressing his lips against your own once, twice, three more times, before putting a little bit of space between your mouths.

“Better stop before we get too carried away, honey.” You whined softly in response without realizing you were going to do it, and you felt your cheeks heat. He kissed you softly on the left one. “M’not opposed to office sex in theory, darlin’, but I want our first time to be in a bed. And I definitely want to take you out first.” You sighed and nodded, agreeing. Even as the mental image of office sex threatened to send you spiraling into a daydream, no matter what you’d said to Beth before. Joel wouldn’t have a hard time convincing you, you could tell.

“Me too, Joel.” You kissed the edge of his jaw again and felt him smile. For a moment the two of you just sank into a tighter embrace. His hug was already something you didn’t want to do without — it was warm and soft and comforting. He was so broad, and his hands were huge. It was the best feeling, being held by Joel.

“I don’t want to wait until Friday to see you again.” You squeezed him around the waist as you said it, and he pressed his lips to the spot where your neck met your shoulder.

“Couldn’t stay away if I tried, darlin’. Only barely made myself go back to my office, instead of waiting for you here during your class.” You laughed into his shirt.

He smiled against your neck again. “Let’s have lunch today. And tomorrow. Everyday this week, even, except Wednesday when I got a damn meeting.” He grumbled that last part. You shook your head a little.

“And I have one on Thursday. But I want to see you anyway. Wish our date was today.”

Joel leaned back to catch your eye. “If it wasn’t a school night, it would be.”

“Oh!” You couldn’t believe you didn’t ask before. “Is Sarah… I mean, I guess she probably noticed we weren’t… I hope she isn’t mad. At me. For leaving you hanging all weekend.”

Joel shook his head. “Mostly no. She’s just protective of me, no reason to be worried. She noticed I was a bit down, tried to reassure me that I hadn’t done anything, just had to talk to you. But I think she didn’t really know what to think, since I didn’t either.” You closed your eyes, worried now, too. “I’ll tell her what happened tonight.”

“Tell her I said it wasn’t about you, Joel, because it wasn’t. I know enough to know you’re a good man. I even said so to Ellie and Beth on Saturday.”

He smiled at you, soft. “And I know enough about you to know you’re too kind to not explain it.” He brought one hand up to cup your face. “I’m just glad we worked it out so fast and I got to kiss you today. Got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh?” You pulled your arms in so you could run your hands up his chest and then tangle them in his hair. “How long is that?”

Joel ducked his head, looking sheepish. “Well, just in terms of thinking you were beautiful, from that first day I saw you on the bench in the Secret Garden. But the real answer is that day when you spilled coffee on yourself. I wanted so badly for you to like me, and there you were, gorgeous and magnificent and angry.”

You groaned and dropped your face onto his chest again. “M’sorry I was such a hateful asshole.” Your voice was muffled in his shirt. You felt Joel rest his cheek against the top of your head.

“It’s ok, honey. You don’t need to keep apologizin’ for it. I really was poppin’ up at the worst moments, over and over again. Was startin’ to worry about it, myself. Thought maybe I was cursed.” You nodded and laughed against his shirt. “Was worried I’d never get the chance to see if this would have gone anywhere. Even if you are gorgeous when you’re mad.”

You shook your head, and tilted it back to meet his eyes. “Even when I was pissed in the moment I was smart enough to see what a catch you are.”

He snorted and shook his head. “A catch, huh?”

“I’ll say it until you believe it, Joel Miller. You are the hottest man I have ever seen.” He started to scoff, but stopped himself, looking shy. “I mean it. Have you seen your shoulders? Your eyes? And your hands? And you’re kind, and funny. And smart. And a good dad.”

Joel hid his face in your shoulder again before you could really take in his blush. He pressed his lips lightly up the side of your neck. You sighed. “I thought we were stopping.”

“We are,” he murmured in response. He reached up with his right hand to cup your jaw. “Just one more kiss, baby. Gotta kiss you, after you said all those nice things.”

You sank into him again, already wondering how you were going to make it to Friday.

…

bestie (11:45 AM): WHAT (11:46 AM): are you telling me you kissed HCG in front of god and everybody on campus and I MISSED IT

you (11:47 AM): you snooze you lose

bestie (11:48 AM): I can’t believe you (11:48 AM): was it any good

you (11:48 AM): 🥰 (11:49 AM): I think I’m floating. it’s like some sort of Hallmark romcom in here

bestie (11:50 AM): shit, what am I saying (11:50 AM): of course it was (11:51 AM): I’m surprised he didn’t just jump into your pants right there in your office

you (11:52 AM): we might have honestly but he stopped. wants to wait for our date

bestie (11:53 AM): UGH (11:53 AM): anyway, I’m glad we were right and he’s not an asshole after all (11:54 AM): did you explain

you (11:56 AM): yes (11:56 AM): not about Matt, exactly (11:57 AM): just that I had a… bad relationship

bestie (12:01 PM): understatement of the year (12:01 PM): that makes sense. it’s a lot to unload

you (12:02 PM): yeah. we have time

bestie (12:03 PM): oooh you have tiiiiime

you (12:03 PM): can it

bestie (12:04 PM): you love me

…

Ellie (4:37 PM): i can’t believe you kissed him!! in public!! (4:37 PM): like what (4:38 PM): who even are you

you (4:39 PM): thanks

(4:39 PM): 🙄

Ellie (4:41 PM): I don’t want any details ever but

you (4:49 PM): … but what

Ellie (4:53 PM): I’m trying to figure out how to ask about it without having to hear any details about my aunt making out with a guy 😒

you (4:55 PM): 😂 I’ll just say it was good and we’re still going out Friday

Ellie (4:57 PM): gross (4:57 PM): but also that’s good I guess (4:58 PM): i’m glad we were right and he’s not an asshole (4:58 PM): so I don’t have to fight him 🔪

you (4:59 PM): same, honestly

Ellie (5:01 PM): hey, people like us!! even though we’re us! wild

you (5:02 PM): guess we’re not totally off putting

Ellie (5:02 PM): speak for yourself

you (5:03 PM): wow rude

…

Joel (4:38 PM): Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, darlin. (4:39 PM): I might still be thinking about those kisses.

you (4:41 PM): oh yeah? well you might not be the only one

Joel (4:45 PM): That right?

you (4:46 PM): guess you’ll have to find out tomorrow

Joel (4:48 PM): oh?

you (4:51 PM): what do you think about having lunch in my office? you know. for privacy

Joel (4:53 PM): Honey, that is the best idea I’ve heard all week.

you (4:54 PM): see you then, handsome 💕

Joel (4:58 PM): Count on it, gorgeous.

...

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fic #joel miller fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM #kissing #smooches

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drabblesandimagines · 6 months

Note

400 request! Leon x female reader. How they meet or first impressions.

(Also omg I’m so happy you write about resident evil too!)

Thank you, anon! I'm happy I write about Resident Evil too x Travel Pillow Leon Kennedy x female reader, fluff

Looking at the rain smacking against the tarmac through the plane window, you’re not convinced you will be taking off any time soon, despite the airline’s confidence when they’d opened the boarding gate 20 minutes ago. The last of the passengers are finding their seats in the small plane, only two seats either side of the aisle. You feel a knee bash against your thigh and you turn, seeing a handsome man with light brown hair framing bright blue eyes, jeans with a white tee and a semi-smart black jacket stood over the empty seat, looking apologetic.

“Sorry.” He rubs the back of his head, scolding himself for a bad first impression on the pretty girl he is going to be sitting next to for the next three hours. “I swear they make the leg room on these tin cans smaller and smaller every time.”

“No harm done. And, yeah, I agree - trying to get you to splurge for the emergency exit.”

“Mm, and my work won’t cover that expense.” He tugs off his jacket before he sits down, banging his knee against the upturned tray table on the seat in front and winces. “Yep, should’ve got some knee pads.”

You laugh at that and he smiles, sensing it’s genuine in nature. Makes a change.

“Name’s Leon.” He offers you his hand and you take it, giving it a shake and offering your name in return.

“Take it you’re traveling for business, then?” You probe – he’s easy on the eyes and much more interesting to look at than the rain out the window.

“Was.” He leans back, buckling up his seatbelt. “On the way home now. You?”

“Moving - starting a new job on Monday.”

“Oh, wow. Moving via plane?”

You shake your head. “Got a guy driving my stuff over in a few days. Only got the job offer Wednesday.”

“Huh,” Leon mulls. “They sound pretty keen for you.”

“Yeah, well-”

The PA system pings, interrupting you. There’s a crackle of static before a voice rings out. “Good evening, this is your captain speaking. I’m afraid we have a storm warning rolling in and, currently, we are unable to take off. As we are still at the gate and it will be a little while before we can depart, we are going to ask you to disembark.” Groans ring around the plane. “Please be sure to take all your hand luggage with you and be sure to pick up your complimentary drinks voucher from the cabin crew.”

“Bets on it excluding alcohol?” Leon asks, unbuckling his seat belt and getting to his feet as your fellow passengers follow suit - grumbling about the delay, grabbing their bags. “Got anything in the overhead?”

“Yeah.” You get to your feet, having to hunch over a little as the side of the plane slopes. “Black duffel bag.”

“I got it.”

“What a gentleman.” You smile, watching as he raises his arms above his head to reach for your bag, your eyes lingering on the way his biceps tense.

“I may have an ulterior motive.” He smirks, pulling the bag down and hanging it off his shoulder with ease. You hadn’t been exactly subtle while you had admired his arms.

“Oh?”

“Hoping you might partake in a non-complimentary drink with me.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“So, what do you do?”

You’d grabbed a cosy table for two in the corner of the airport bar, a clear view of the departures board in sight in case any news came through about your delayed flight. The complimentary drinks voucher had excluded alcohol, so you had ended up with two drinks in front of you – a soda from the airline that you’d quickly polished off, and one from your handsome seat-mate that you made sure to take your time over.

“Me?” Leon shrugs a shoulder. “I work for the government – just boring bureaucratic nonsense, wrapped up in a lot of red tape. How about you?”

“Software.”

“Guess you’re pretty skilled to be in such high demand.”

“Something like that. Just a niche area. Money was too good to say no.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. “And, if I can be so bold, no-one to leave behind?”

“Bingo.”

“Well, I feel that. No-one for me to return home to. Work keeps me too busy – can be away a few days to a few months.”

“Ah, so you don’t always flirt with women you meet on planes?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “This is just an elaborate apology for bashing your knee earlier.” “Gotcha.” You take another sip of your drink. “So, how long have you lived in DC?”

“A few years now, on and off.”

“Good, then you can tell me all of the bad coffee shops and tourist traps I need to avoid.”

Leon shakes his head, grinning all the while. “I can’t hand over that information, you’ve gotta work your way through sucky cups of coffee like every other fine resident that came before you.”

“Please?” You pout, tilting your head and he’s so tempted to give in with how adorable you look.

“Cute, but no. You’ll understand one day.”

“Not even a clue?”

“Uh-uh, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah,” he lifts his glass to his lips, trying to hide his smile. “I’m not.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about DC, then?”

He ponders for a moment. “They really like brunch.”

“Maybe…” you rest your hand on the table, wondering if you could reach out and touch his, “..you could take me for br-“

“Passengers for delayed flight AA4628 are asked to head towards gate 34 to commence boarding.” The PA system announces from above your heads. “That’s passengers for delayed flight AA4628 are asked to head towards gate 34 to commence boarding. Thank you.”

“Guess we better head back.” Leon downs his drink and gets to his feet, heaving your bag back over his shoulder.

“Mm,” you agree, downing the rest of your own and your question, and following him back to the gate.

The drink must’ve gone more to your head than you thought, especially after a frantic few days of packing, late nights from trying to get everything in order before you moved across the country because you don’t remember the plane even taking off. You wake up to your ears popping as the plane begins its descent and slowly open your eyes, wondering why the seat in front of you is at an angle. It’s then you realise you’re not upright in your own seat, instead cuddling up into someone’s chest, almost nuzzling your cheek into them, an arm draped around your shoulders.

You shoot up, the arm sliding off and you see Leon besides you, smiling sleepily, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“I am so sorry.” You can feel your cheeks burn as you worry if you drooled, or snored or…

“What, for using me as a pillow?” He chuckles. “It’s fine. For the record, I fell asleep too so it was mutually beneficial.”

“Oh. Good.” You nod, settling back into an awkward silence as the plane continues its descent towards the tarmac and you turn your attention to the window, looking down at the place you’ll be calling home for however long.

As the plane lands and begins taxiing to the gate you wonder if you should ask Leon for his number, or give him your own. It would be nice to know someone in DC, after all. You pull your phone out your pocket, about to ask when an air stewardess appears at Leon’s side, whispers in his ear and he smiles, nods in thanks and unbuckles his seatbelt to stand, before he hesitates and turns to look at you, noting your look of confusion.

“Seems work’s been waiting for me since our delay. My boss has pulled some strings to get me off the flight first, so…” He swallows, disappointed - though he knows he shouldn’t be. He knew from the moment you started talking, despite the feeling in his stomach, that it was fantasy where he could pretend that after you’d arrived in DC, the two of you could exchange numbers and he’d take you out for the good coffee, brunch and dinner, buy you flowers, kiss you under the streetlights…

Idiot, he reprimands himself. You’re a sweet girl, too sweet for the world he’s involved in.

“It was nice to meet you.” He smiles. “Good luck with the new job.”

“Oh.” You can’t hide your disappointment as he finally stands, the air stewardess waiting to lead him back up the aisle. “Thanks. Nice to meet you too, Leon.”

He nods, once, and you watch him walk away.

You hesitate outside your new work, the building looming over you. You still don’t know how to feel about this, but how can you reject a job offer from the President of the United States? You bin the cup of coffee you’d bought from a cart in the park on the way here – mistake, curse Leon for not giving you any heads up – and walk inside, navigating through security and reception, before being told to head up to floor three where an Ingrid Hunnigan is waiting to brief you, standing by the elevator doors. She’s a smartly dressed woman, curly hair tied up in a bun and studious glasses, though she greets you with a smile and a handshake.

“Welcome to the DSO. Glad to have you – I’ve been admiring your work over the weekend.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m… It’s good to be here.” You correct.

Hunnigan doesn’t press, instead gesturing you forward. “Sorry, I promise we’ll do a whistlestop tour another time, but you’re going to be hitting the ground running this morning – we have an intel briefing at 0915.”

“We?”

“Mm – me, you and Agent Kennedy.”

You’re led to a small meeting room and told to take a seat, but Hunnigan remains standing by the door.

“Coffee? Since I haven’t had chance to give you the tour, it’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” You reply, taking a seat.

“Be right back.”

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking around at the room – not that there’s much to take in, it’s a small, circular table with six chairs around it, a projector hanging from the ceiling and some adaptor cables poking out the middle for someone to connect a laptop.

The door opens a couple of moments later and you turn your head, eyes widening at the figure who enters.

Leon looks equally surprised for a moment before a smirk crosses his lips and he strides in, taking the seat opposite. He leans back in his chair, crosses his arms and quirks an eyebrow.

“Software, huh?”

You wake up to your ears popping as the plane begins its descent, your face resting on Leon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and head resting atop your own – an all too familiar routine when you travel together by plane. You nuzzle your cheek into his warmth, feeling too content to open your eyes just yet when you feel him move and place a kiss upon your crown.

“Afraid it’s time to wake up, sweetheart”

“Mm, five more minutes. We can’t be landing already, we only just left the gate.” You protest.

His chuckle vibrates through your cheek. “You were out like a light before we even took off. I’m beginning to worry you only keep me around as your personal travel pillow.”

Sighing, you sit upright, trying to rub the crick out of your neck. “That, among other reasons.”

“What other reasons?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to muse, cupping his face in your palm and press a soft kiss to his lips before pressing your forehead against his. “Cos I love you.”

“Love you more.”

-- Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day! x Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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oasiswithmyg · 4 months

Text

A New Friend

So'lek x Sarentu!Reader

Summary for this part: You worry for Nor, who is like a brother to you, But the RDA keeps you on your toes as they destroy a Resistance field lab. It's up to you to help them and you might just meet a new face in the fight.

Word count: 4.1k.

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The back door to the resistance base opened and you were greeted with the scenery of Pandora once more. However, you were on a mission of your own, which was to find Nor. His state after the connection with the Tarsyu, was concerning to say the least.

You used your Na’vi senses to track his scent, rushing through the forest in order to not lose it. You scale up the lands, seeing a beautiful Ikran fly by, you follow it, hoping it would lead you to where you need to be. You feel that you are reaching closer to Nor, but there is something you want to ask of So’lek, so you contact him through the radio that he had given you.

“Hey, So’lek. You there ? I think Nor’s nearby. Maybe, you could talk to him like you did with me? About your clan. How it feels. Just as I felt your pain and understanding, maybe Nor could too ?”. However, no reply comes through the radio, which makes you worry, you stop in your path and hold the radio close to you “So’lek?”. Then finally came alive with his voice.

“Alma and I are checking into one of our other camps. It’s gone quiet, Sarentu” HIs tone seemed urgent and distressed. Like he wasn’t focused. “You sound worried”, you state as you continue on your path up. So’lek replies in anger, but not at you, “The Sky People continue to spread”.

Concerned as well for your fellow Resistance allies, you ask him, “You think they found it?”, but only static somes throught the radio. “So’lek?!” The radio cuts off, you look at it in disbelief. ‘After I speak with Nor I need to find So’lek, I’m worried about him’ you think to yourself.

At last when you reach the top hill, you are greeted with the clear vast sky at first, as you can see the other planet looming in the distance as well as the floating lands. You are awestruck for a moment, unable to help yourself as you walk closer to the edge.

You see Nor from the corner of your eyes as he walks in front of you, closer to a small campfire, his whole body seemed tense and confused. He notices you as he looks back, his words anxious as he questioned you, “What must our ancestors think of us? Do you think they pity us? Sad to see what we have become?” his face turned back around, his gaze looking straight ahead yet there seemed to be no focus on anything in particular.

“We’re still Sarentu..” You try to reassure him, but Nor is quick to interject, “Teylan barely speaks our tongue Y/N!...but then he always preferred human words”, he sighed, as his voice almost came out as a defeated whisper at the end.

You frowned, it is not Teylan’s fault that he is this way. He was barely past the toddler stage before they were all forced into The Ambassador Program. Being taught the human words as well as to behave like a human are all he ever knows. Although, you were a biased as you always saw him as a younger brother that needed to be protected. “You know you cannot blame him for that, Nor. Alma says we all need time to adjust” you gently rebuked his words as he crouched near the fire, his body still looking tense, you went over to him, bending down a bit and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, to let him know that you were there for him, your friend.

Nor placed his right hand over yours squeezing it once, thanking you for the support you provided. You gently removed your hand, slowly getting back up and looking over the lands of Pandora, thinking out loud, “Why did the RDA come back?”

“They wanted more of Pandora” Nor replied, as you looked back at him and him to you, he continued, his voice filled with hatred “They always do”.

“Then we’ll need to fight!” you declared as your stance became more confident, knowing that this was the only way to protect and save Pandora. Nor voiced his agreement, “Yes. Aha’ri would have wanted us to fight'', the conviction in his eyes becoming stronger. Hearing your sister’s name from Nor just made you believe in this plan. You nodded at him, only you knew how much he cared for your sister, being his confidant whenever the pain was too much. He smiled shakily in return.

BOOM

A loud booming sound was heard to the west of where you stood, both you and Nor flinching at it. Turning your head towards it, only to see some kind of bombs going off and the forest lit on fire. You were shocked, wondering what happened. Then you could hear your radio, crackling to life, with Priya’s frantic voice coming out.

“Hey, can anyone hear me? Listen, Alma’s got a problem over at our western camp…one of ours is hurt!”

“I’m here!”, you reply hurriedly, not wanting to waste any time as the problem would become only worse.

You could hear the relief in Priya’s voice as she spoke, “Oh, thank god Y/N. I’m picking up more RDA heading that way”, just as she said those words, more of the RDA scorpion gunship flew by to the location. You and Nor looked on in worry. Nor turned to look at you, his voice firm and reassuring as he declared, “Go Y/N. I’ll find Ri’nela and Teylan. We’ll make sure the HQ is safe, come back to us safe”. He then rushed past you to head back to the resistance base, as you looked over at the smoke rising in the distance.

Luckily, you had brought your short bow that So’lek allowed you to keep after he had given it to you. You did not have a gun or rifle because you did not like using them, but if it protected those you cared about from the RDA then you would only use it on them. You jumped down carefully and as quickly as you could, hearing Priya’s voice once again through the radio, her voice sounding as if she was almost close to tears, “Please, please hurry. It sounded really bad Y/N - I don’t know what to do…. I’m scared, Anqa’s out of the field labs, and Dani-”

“Calm down Priya, take deep breaths, I’m on my way. Do not worry!” you tried to calm her down as you rushed past the forest, the site of the smoke steadily coming into frame. “All that smoke-It’s going to draw more RDA to that camp!” She continued anxiously.

“I’ll get to them first, I promise you Priya” You say as you cut off the radio, redoubling your efforts in order to reach there as quickly as you could. You pulled out your bow as you arrived at the area, shocked to find upon reaching there that the land was scorched and the field lab was on fire, with several members of the Resistance injured scattered. Your ears twitched, hearing a deep voice in the distance say somberly, “Alma, It is too late”. You could immediately recognize who it was as it was the voice of someone you could not keep out of your head.

So’lek.

You could also hear Alma, her voice frustrated and distressed as you drew closer. She was doing compressions on one of the fallen members of the Resistance. So’lek was scanning the area carefully for any more signs of the RDA, you could see his ears twitch in your direction, his body which was strung tight in tension, loosened a bit as he registered your presence.

So’lek felt relief as soon as he noticed that the Sarentu had arrived at the research station. He knew could trust her to have his back in this. Although he does not know where this trust comes from, nonetheless, he chooses to ignore it, deciding to deal with it later once they’re safe from danger.

“Damnit. How’d they find this place? It’s not on any of their patrol routes” Alma frustratedly questioned, angry and disturbed to see her fellow members injured. So’lek could only reply, his voice grim.

“They are looking for us now”.

Another member, Hajir, let out a cry of pain as he leaned against the almost destroyed research field lab. Alma rushed over, her voice stressed as she reassured him, “Okay. You’ll be fine, all right? Listen to me. You’ll be fine”.

You looked away from the scene in order to search for So’lek, only to find him holding out some sort of thick vultsyìp (Stick) weapon out to you in one hand, looking at you with trust and confidence in his eyes with the fire in the back casting an intimidating scene on him.

“Here. Have you seen one of these before?” So’lek questioned as he passed it to you, your hands nervously grasping it, while looking at him, you spluttered, “Uh, n-no”. So’lek could hear the apprehension in the Sarentu’s voice, his gaze became gentle as he tried to reassure her, not wanting her to be in distress.

“Don’t worry, It’s easy”, he stated as he looked back, scanning for any signs of the RDA, the fire now casting a orange glow on his face because of this you were able to see the two scars that you hadn’t noticed before on the left side of his face, one which ran down from the top of his ear to his cheek and another just below his ear. "Even with them, he still looks very handsome," you thought, before coming to a realization of what you just thought “Wait, handsome. What am I even thinking?! Oh Eywa, Y/N focus!”

You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts, just in time before So’lek’s voice brought you back, “We’ll have more on us soon”, his eyes looking towards the sky in search of any gunship.

“We’ll need to stabilize him” Alma stated as she looked over the injured.

So’lek turned to you and came closer, “Don’t take too long” he gently declared, as he came even closer to you, you had to look up at him slightly. He resumed stating, “There’s an oil refinery ahead. I’ll make sure the RDA come running to it. Keep them off Alma and Hajir till then” You could see Alma in the background carrying Hajir inside the station.

You must have looked anxious, because So’lek gaze became focused on you with a soft and reassuring look. He came closer and placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle as he said, “You can handle this Sarentu, I trust you. Do not worry, I’ll be quick”, he steps back and just before he rushes off, his face turns to look at you straight in the eyes and his voice, which was already deep and low in tone, became serious and demanding, as he stated “Stay safe for me”.

Your stomach fluttered and your tail started curling around your leg, a giddy and curious feeling arising in you. “What is he doing to me?”, you thought, as heat rose to your cheeks. For some reason though, those words from him were all you needed to be strong to face the RDA head on. You looked over the new weapon that he gave you. It looked like it could throw something, maybe a bomb.

Your radio started with So’lek stating, “I see more soldiers coming. Be ready”. Well that made you nervous, you exclaimed, “What? Where ?!”.

“Breathe Sarentu. Use your surroundings. Look for any openings. The humans will stumble into your traps”. He reassures before cutting the radio off, presumably to cause the distraction he stated.

You close your eyes for a moment and take in deep breaths just as So’lek said, calming yourself down. His words became an anchor to steady you. Helping you think straight and focus on the incoming fight. You looked around the research station and the area surrounding it, you could tell that standing up on the lab would give you more vantage points to look out for, so you did just that. Just as you jumped up So’lek’s voice could be heard again through the radio, “I left more ammo for the staff sling on the airlock roof. I trust you to make good use of it” and saw a few boxes that contained supplies, bullets and spare parts that So’lek said there would be, making sure to collect them knowing you’ll need them for the fight.

Then you started searching for the openings that could be used by the RDA, especially the Gunships to land. Those vehicles and AMP suits would require steady ground. Finally finding some places, you put in the sensor bomb in the net of the staff sling and draw back as you sling it across the area strategically. They would go off if anyone or anything stepped on them,

Just then, you can hear the blades of the Scorpion Gunships getting closer, as they descend from the sky and just as you predicted, they landed exactly where you expected them to, right on the traps you had set. The gunship exploded, instantly destroying it and killing off the RDA. You tell more would be arriving, and this time not only the gunships, but few Amp suits and stray RDA humans around. However, Alma called you through the radio, asking for the medical supplies that were over at the other lab nearby. You rushed over there, entering the lab and collecting the supplies as well as finding an assault rifle. You were low on arrows, so this should help you in the fight. You notify Alma that you got them, she sounds relieved that you did.

As you head out of the lab, a gunship comes into view and aims the machine gun at you, just before they can, you look in awe when a Na’vi on an Ikran flies into the scene and tries to destroy the ship, causing the RDA ship to retreat. You rush back to where Alma is, radioing So’lek on the way.

“So’lek! There’s another Na’vi here! They’re helping me” you exclaim in surprise and excitement at a new face.

When So’lek heard his radio turn on and your voice filtered through with the shout of his name, he was worried that something happened, that something went wrong and you were hurt. He wanted to rush back to help you, but luckily You continued to relay what had happened. So’lek chuckled in relief, his voice sounded more confident as he said, “Good. Explosives are done. That should be enough to distract the rest. Make sure the camp is clear. I will deal with a few of them on my end. Contact me when you are done”.

As you reached the camp, you could see some AMP suits milling about. You used the same strategy as before, wherever there was a cluster of RDA you used your sling staff. You made sure to examine your surroundings, running back and forth, scanning for more signs of danger. Killing the stranglers with your bow. Once the coast was clear, you headed to the entrance of the airlock doors.

The door opens with Alma coming out with Hajir in her arms, “That was close” she sighed, as she explained, “They have plenty of AMP suits, more than I’ve seen around before. One of Mercer’s favorite toys” She grumbled the last sentence as if remembering something bitter. You frowned as well, just hearing that man’s name made you angry. Alma turned to look at you, her gaze on you was filled with happiness and guilt, “You were always quick. Always so ready to help anyone, even back at TAP. I’m sorry you had to face them alone Y/N”, she said as she took the medical supplies from your hand and started working on Hajir.

“I wasn’t alone. So’lek distracted them..” You were quick to inform her, knowing that if it wasn’t for So’lek you couldn’t have done it. However, you tried to keep the worry out of your mind for him, knowing that he can handle himself, you continued with a question, “and did you see that Na’vi?” your excitement of seeing another Na’vi was through the roof.

“Ikran are fierce, and very protective of their riders. An RDA scorpion is no match for them” Alma explained as wrapped the bandages around Hajir. Then you heard a growl come from behind you. You immediately turned around to see the same Ikran and Na’vi from before land near you.

The Na’vi warrior hops off the Ikran, her voice rings out amused as she calls out to you, “A Na’vi, dreamwalker and human. Fighting the Sky people alone? You are very brave” she walks toward you looking at Alma and Hajir, her gaze then shifting to you, smiling when you exclaim “That was amazing! The way you took out that thing…Thank you”, you could not stop yourself from gushing. She truly was amazing when she fought.

She comes closer to you, however her smile drops as she sees you face, her eyes fixated on the mark below your left eye. “Wait..” she mumbles, her hand coming closer to inspect your face, “You have the mark”. The Na’vi warrior’s face slowly turns into shock, her eyes widening and her tail curling in surprise. She leans closer to you,questioning you in disbelief, “You are… Sarentu?”. She takes your hand, her voice becoming more animated, “The storytellers. Bringers of peace. My father said your clan disappeared years ago. We thought you were dead!”.

“It is a long story but the Sarentu spirit is not so easy to kill” You declared, standing proud that you defied their beliefs, that your clan, although so small in numbers, still survives.

The Na’vi warrior smiles at that, she speaks to herself in awe, “I had hoped to find the Resistance here, but a Sarentu…”. She then focuses her gaze on you, standing formally as she introduces herself, “I’m Etuwa, tsahik (matriarch/Interpreter of Eywa) of the Aranahe.” She brings her hand to her forehead and moves it towards you, the motion of saying Oel ngati kameie (I see you). You do it as well.

Alma interrupts, sharing her condolences to Etuwa, “I knew your mother…I’m sorry”. Etuwa looks at her, acknowledging Alma’s compassion, she then states grimly, “Our home suffers too. The sky people grow bolder and the land falters under their feet. And yet, my people…Our Hometree”, her voice shakes, “We are not warriors. But war has come”. Etuwa then turns to you, the hope in her eyes strong. “My father still needs convincing but he knew the Sarentu. He will listen to you. He must” She speaks with hope and determination in her tone, as she heads back to her Ikran.

“I need to get them back. The others…They should know what happened here”. Alma explains to Etuwa, helping the injured.

“Of course, I’ll help with your wounded” Etuwa stated calmly as she lifted Hajir and took him back to her Ikran, hopping on them. She calls out to you, “My Hometree isn’t far from here. Tell them I sent you. But not all see as I do, so please do not mention my part in…this” she whispers the last part. Etuwa looks towards you, “May your spirits soar with the currents of the wind”. Her Ikran takes off into the sky as you look at her in awe.

After a couple of moments gaining your bearings, you contact So’lek immediately in excitement and hope, “So’lek, another Na’vi showed up to help! Etuwa. From the Aranahe clan. She asked me to visit her Hometree. Maybe more Na’vi will join us now?”

So’lek replied, feeling the relief spread through him that you were safe and hearing that it was Etuwa that helped, he knew that she would understand you and your nature. However he felt slightly sad as well that he had to lower your expectation about the Na’vi joining, “Not likely. I tried before. It did not go so well. Their leader, Ka’nat practically threw me out. He is not easily swayed.”

“He’s not afraid of the RDA?”, you were confused as you questioned. How can a Na’vi not want to stop the Sky people that are destroying Pandora for their own benefit?

“Rather, they have already caused him great sorrow. He will protect his people from further suffering. That, I can understand.” and So’lek did, having lost his own clan to the very same people. However, he could not understand what it was like to lose a mate like the Aranahe leader and he didn’t intend to find out. For a brief moment he wondered what if he had lost you. He quickly shook his head from those thoughts, finding them painful. He continued with his explanation, trying to avoid his thoughts, “The Aranahe are normally united in all things, but the war has sparked some friction. Many will close their eyes to an uneasy truth. But a Sarentu may help them see”

You could hear the strong faith he had in you, that you could accomplish such a task and you felt the ‘butterflies’ in your stomach flutter, as Priya once said when she felt really happy. However, it seemed neither of you wanted to cut off contact, there was something you wanted to ask him, just as he, to you.

“So’lek, are you hur-” “Sarentu, are you injur-”. Both of you spoke at the same time, concerned filled in your tones. You stopped, feeling that flutter feeling again. Feeling too flustered you quickly mumble to him, using the words he said to you before, “Come back safe to HQ for me, So’lek” and you cut the contact, covering your face as it heated up, you squatted down on the ground, your tail swishing so hard, feeling shy yet happy.

On the other end however, So’lek was standing at the oil refinery with defeated RDA lying around him, he hears the line cut and honestly cannot fathom what had just occurred, his face hot and his heart racing from the adrenaline of the fight as well as something he dares not to acknowledge. He covers his eyes, his head tilted to the sky as he sighs.

So’lek connects with Priya through the radio, before he could say anything however, “So’lek, oh my god! Is everything ok now? Did Y/N reach there in time? Is she and Alma okay ? Are you okay? Is-” he interrupts sighing, knowing that if he didn’t she would go on with her ramblings, “Priya there is something I need you to do” He can hear her immediately stop her previous talk to listen to him. “Yeah sure! What can I do for you?”

“I need you to check on the Sarentu for me when she comes back to the base. See to it that she is not hiding any wounds or pain. She has fought well.” So’lek asked, knowing that the Sarentu trusts Priya out of all the humans in the base and that he could too. The only he asked for this was because he could see that the Sarentu always cared more about others than herself. While running from the RDA in the TAP facility as she is asked about her friends and him even when she was alone, her getting the Dapophet plant for him when he was hurt, her first mission and now. He just wanted her to acknowledge herself as well.

Priya for once was astonished because this is the first time S’lek has asked anything or for anyone ever! It felt like some cogs were turning in her mind as to what could be the reason for him to ask for such a thing and definitely felt excited about it if she was correct!. Priya replied back quickly, “Okay yeah, I can do that! I mean I was gonna do that anyway cause she’s like my friend you know? Y/N’s like really nice, she listens to me and stuff! Also this is the first time you’re asking something, is there something going-”

“Thanks Priya”, So’lek interrupts her train of words, not wanting to hear her theories about him and the Sarentu and cuts the line off. He sighs again for the nth time, feeling drained mentally. He could only stare confusedly at the sky, his thoughts jumbled with the Sarentu and his revenge against the RDA, but one question in his mind stood out.

‘What in Eywa’s name is going on with him?’

Thank you for reading through and I hope you like it !

#so'lek x reader #so'lek #so'lek x na'vi!reader #so'lek fluff #sarentu #avatar frontiers of pandora #avatar #afop #nor #teylan #etuwa frontiers of pandora #etuwa #aranahe #Honorary mention: Hajir

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therand0mwriter · 3 months

Text

Bare Your Soul

Alastor Hartfelt x Female!Reader

Chapter 2 - Pentious and Vox

[Unedited]

*Time Skip, Next Day* *(Y/N)'s POV*

'What time is it?' You woke up and groggily thought. You look over to your bedside table and saw the clock read 7 AM. 'That's not as early as usual. Maybe having that busy day yesterday helped.' You thought, referring to how you usually wake up naturally between 4 and 5 AM.

You stood up and out of your bed, heading to your bathroom to get ready for the day. Once done, you went down to the main area to see if anyone was awake yet. Not seeing anybody, you started to make your way back up the stairs.

'Clink, shuffle'

You halted in your steps when you heard noise coming from the kitchen. You took slow, cautious steps towards the kitchen door. When you stood in front of it, you heard faint static and instantly knew who was in the kitchen.

You pushed the door open fully and stepped in, seeing the one and only Radio Demon. "Ah! Good morning, dear (Y/N)!" Alastor greeted at the sight of you. "Good morning, Alastor." You smiled back to him, nodding your head in a greeting. "I must say," Alastor started, pouring boiling water into his mug. "I am surprised to see you awake. Everyone doesn't usually wake until 9. Sometimes even later!" He ended with a laugh. He then gestured to his mug, "Would you like some tea, darling?"

You nodded your head, "Yes, please. If you don't mind." Alastor waved you off, getting a mug ready for you, "Nonsense!" You sat down at the table as you waited for the male, responding to his earlier comment. "I actually slept in today. I normally wake up earlier, but I guess yesterday took it out of me." You chuckled. Alastor hummed, "Really? How interesting. Well, I am always late to bed and early to rise if you ever want someone to keep you company."

You smiled at his words, "I might just take you up on that offer." Alastor chuckled, handing you your tea, "Please do. Now, would you do me the honor of joining me up on the balcony?" He leaned down, offering me his arm like he did last night. You smiled once more, standing and linking your arm with his, your mug in your left hand. "Sounds lovely."

*3rd POV*

Ever since Vox found out that Alastor was back in town, he couldn't stop checking his cameras that displayed the outside of the Hazbin Hotel. But when Vox checked his cameras this time, he spit out his coffee at what he saw.

There was the Radio Demon he hated with a burning passion... along with a girl... linked in arm and arm. "What the hell?!" Vox shouted, going face to face with the monitor. Valentino heard the TV's shout of distress, "What's the matter?" Vox moved out of the way so the moth Demon could see the screen, "Look at this! Can you believe this?!"

Valentino leaned forward and squinted at the blurry screen. Once he was able to see what Vox was so upset about, he straightened his back and smirked, "Oh, wooow. Looks like Alastor got himself a little girlfriend. And a pretty cute one at that." Vox stared at the screen until there was a brief moment where the image of the girl was clear, and sure enough, Val was right. She was pretty cute.

"What is someone like her doing there with him? And where is that snake guy?!" Vox angrily shouted, his voice switching tones as he threw his hands up in the air. "Relax," Valentino started, taking a puff from his cigarette. "The snake man is on his way, and when he's at the hotel, he'll find out more about your new little crush."

Vox buzzed in annoyance, "I don't have a crush on her! I'm just confused as to why someone as nice looking as her is hanging out with that prick!" Val smirked, "Sound like to me you're jealous." Vox glitched and turned to Valentino, yelling, "Get out!" The moth demon chuckled on amusement before leaving his TV friend.

Vox looked back to the monitor, watching the two deer demons talk. When the she-demon smiled and giggled at something Alastor had said, Vox growled and his brows furrowed. He was so angry, it felt like his entire body was on fire. He dug his claws into his desk, leaving marks. 'Alastor shouldn't have anything like her...'

*Time Skip* *At The Hotel*

"Okay!" Charlie clapped her hands together. "Today's goal is to focus on (Y/N) and to figure out what she needs to do to make herself a better person!" (Y/N) winced with a smile at Charlie's words as Angel chuckled, "Ouch." Charlie's eyes went wide with worry, "Oh, I didn't mean it like that! I don't think you're a bad person-" (Y/N) cut Charlie off before she could start to ramble, "It's okay, Charlie. I know what you mean."

Charlie sent the doe demon a grateful smile, "Great! Now! Um... you're polite, so we don't need to work on that. Hm... you apologize when it calls for it. Uh, you don't make inappropriate jokes. In the day I've known you, you've never cursed..." The blonde started to pace back and forth, hand on her chin as she started to mumble to herself. Vaggie sent her girlfriend a worried look, "Uh, Charlie? You okay?"

The princess then slammed her fist into her open palm, "I got it!" She shouted, turning to the doe demon. "(Y/N), what did you do in your human life that got you into Hell? We'll work on fixing that!"

Up from the second floor, Alastor eavesdropped from the shadows. "Oh... um..." (Y/N) hesitated, thinking of how to respond. Then, a knock came from the front door. Vaggie stood from her seat and went to open the door. On the other side was Sir Pentious, who had his hat in his hands with a sheepish smile, "Why, hello, my dear-" He cut himself off with a yelp as Vaggie punched him without hesitation.

Vaggie took out her spear and pointed it at Pentious, the snake demon falling to the ground. "Wait, wait, wait! I come in peace." Pentious said, a panicked look on his face as he held up peace signs with his hands. Vaggie narrowed her eye at him, "What are you doing here?"

Charlie peeked her head around the door, "Vaggie, what's the problem?" Then the blonde gasped at who she saw, "Oh! Hello again." Pentious sat up from the ground, "I didn't come looking for a fight. I Uh, I heard that you're helping people! People who want to be... better?" He ended with an unsure smile.

Charlie gasped and ran towards the snake demon, clasping his hands with hers. "You heard right! Welcome to our home of healing, our resort of restoration, our-" Charlie was cut off by Angel when she started to pull Pentious into the hotel. "Are you fucking nuts? This chump was trying ta kill us like, literally 12 hours ago. And now ya wanna bring him in here to live with us?" Angel asked incredulously.

Charlie stepped in front of Pentious, spreading her arms wide, "Absolutely! This place is about second chances, and who deserves one more than this slithery... slippery..." Charlie started to hesitate when referring to Pentious. "Special little man!" She ended, elbowing the snake demon.

Angel then turned to Vaggie, "Aren't ya supposed to protect this place?" Vaggie looked to her girlfriend, who then promptly gave her large, red puppy dog eyes. Vaggie sighed in defeat, "I guess... he's not much of a threat without the war machine." At her words, Pentious grew a large smile. "Or even with the war machine." Vaggie added, making Pentious droop in sadness.

Charlie ran up to her girlfriend and hugged her, spinning her around, "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She put Vaggie down and ran back to the snake demon, "Sir Pentious, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" Everyone started to make their way back inside as Pentious spoke, "Oh no, darling. Thank you! You won't regret this." Angel spoke up, following behind Pentious, "Meh, I give ya a week, tops."

"So," Charlie started, "This is the bar and the bartender! This is the curtain, and this is the new wall, after you broke the last one." She chuckled nervously. "And, oh! This, this is-" Charlie paused when Vaggie took ahold of her hand, pulling her back. "Babe, you don't have to show him every detail."

"I'm sorry, I'm just so excited to have our second real guest!" Charlie jumped up and down, grinning largely. "Uh, what the hell am I then? (Y/N)'s suppose ta be the second guest." Angel asked, lifting one set of his arms expectantly. "Well, you're an important part of our family here, Angel. But, you, um, uh..." Charlie started. But when she couldn't find the words she wanted, Vaggie added in, "You constantly make us look bad, sexually harass the staff, and have literally never once tried to improve."

Charlie looked from Vaggie back to Angel, "What she means is, it's just nice to have someone interested, for once." When Charlie walked past Angel to Pentious, she missed the sad look Angel had on his face.

Charlie gestured to Niffty who was currently playing with KeeKee, "Over here we have our maid, Niffty." At hearing her name, Niffty stopped playing with the cat and made her way to Pentious, "The bad boy is back!" She jumped onto Pentious, holding him by his collar, "Never leave me again." She said darkly, making Pentious sweat nervously. "We're about 80% sure she's harmless." Charlie chuckled nervously.

When Alastor noticed the two were about to go up the stairs, he went into his shadow and reappeared at the staircases bottom. "And over here we have-" Charlie cut herself off with a gasp when she almost bumped into Alastor. "Oh! Uh, Alastor! Our gracious facility manager! You've met our newest guest, Sir Pentious." Charlie stepped to the side so the two males could meet again, a nervous look on her face.

"Ah, yes. You're the one who ruined my coat." Alastor's voice went an octave lower, fuzzy static omitting from him and his red eyes growing brighter, "I definitely remember you now." Pentious gulped in fright and Charlie's eyes went wide. But, the blonde ran with the opportunity that just presented itself. "Well, I guess this is a great time for your first lesson," Charlie said to Pentious, clearing her throat. "'How to apologize.' The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you are in the wrong." She then went behind the snake demon, giving him a gentle push towards the Radio Demon. "Why don't you give it a try?"

"Yes," Pentious starts, giving Charlie an unsure look. "Um," He turned back to Alastor. "Mister, um... Radio Demon, sir, please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat... um, here..." Pentious reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of red fabric that he had tore off of Alastor's coat.

The Radio Demon took the fabric from Pentious, bringing it up to his eyes to inspect it, "Oh-ho! Not this many people have been able to take even this much off me." Alastor stated, sounding slightly impressed. "It must have meant quite a lot to you." Immediately after, he set the fabric aflame with a green fire, wearing a smug smile as he reveled in the snake demon's horrified look.

(Y/N) abruptly let out a laugh at the scene, but quickly covered it with a cough. The three turn their attention to the doe demon, Alastor tilting his head, a little please that she also found the situation entertaining. Charlie smiled, ignoring the girls strange sounding cough, "Oh! And this is another one of our residents, (Y/N)! She joined yesterday." The two demons made their way over to said girl, while Alastor went into his shadow and reappeared next to (Y/N) on her spot on the couch.

The snake demon sent a flourishing bow to the doe demon, "It is a pleasure to meet you, miss (Y/N)! I am Sir Pentious!" The girl bowed her head in greeting, "It is nice to meet you, I hope we can be friends." Pentious was taken aback at how nice this demoness was, he didn't really know how to act, "Oh, um, yes, I do too." (Y/N) sent him a small smile in response. "Sir Pentious, let me finish giving you the tour and show you to your room." Charlie said after introductions were over, guiding the snake demon to the stairs, Vaggie joining them.

After the three left, it was just Alastor and (Y/N) in the main area as Angel and Husk went off to their rooms and Niffty was who-knows-where. Alastor turned his head to face (Y/N), (Y/N) following suit when she noticed his movement. "I take it you have a dark sense of humor, my dear?" Alastor questioned, amusement in his tone. (Y/N) let out a weak chuckle, "Unfortunately. It's one of the qualities that got me into Hell."

"'Unfortunately'? My dear, you should be proud of who you are." Alastor said. (Y/N) broke eye contact with him, looking down at her hands, playing with her fingers, "I'm not... there's a reason why I'm here." Alastor hummed, intrigued, "And what is that reason?" (Y/N) didn't say anything, having an internal struggle on whether or not she should say something. "I'm... not ready to talk about it." She eventually got out. Alastor was disappointed at how hard it was to get information out of the doe demon, but he didn't let his frustration show. 'I have time to get the information out of her. Meanwhile, I'll just have one of my little demons spy on her.'

Alastor stood and took a few steps toward the girl, standing in front of her, "Very well, if you're ever ready to bare your soul, I'll be here waiting for you. Oh, and (Y/N), dear?" Alastor placed his free hand under said girls chin, lifting her head up to make eye contact with him. "Smile, it looks good on you." Alastor said, his grin growing a litter bigger. (Y/N)'s (e/c) eyes went wide and stayed that way when Alastor took his hand from out under her chin and 'booped' her nose with his index finger, disappearing into his shadow with a laugh. 'What just happened?' She thought, a tiny grin growing on her lips at how ridiculously funny she found the situation.

*Meanwhile*

Pentious was in his room, finally alone. He quickly looked around to double check no on was near. He lifted up his sleeve to the VoxTech watch he was wearing. Pentious tapped on the screen and it lit up, showing Vox. "Well, what have you found out so far?" Vox questioned, already impatient. "U-Um, well, they are letting me stay here and gave me a room." Pentious stuttered. Vox rolled his eyes, irritated, "I don't care about that! Did you get any useful information?"

Pentious cleared his throat, "T-The only new information I've gathered so far is about the girl." At this, Vox leaned forward, his interest piqued. The snake demon continued, "Her name is (Y/N), and she is a resident here." Vox leaned back, his eyes going soft, "'(Y/N)'." He repeated her name, finding it fitted her perfectly. "Um, sir?" Pentious called out, raising his brow at the TV demons actions. Vox shook his screen-like head, becoming serious again, "Keep up the work, find out as much as you can about (Y/N) and make sure a deal isn't struck between Charlie and Alastor." Before Pentious could respond, the screen went black, signaling the end of the call.

*Time Skip*

Charlie had called Pentious, (Y/N) and Angel down to the main area, Vaggie already there. "Okay everyone, get comfortable!" The four sat in a circle while Charlie stood. "Now! With new residents, I think it's important we all get to know each other, so we are going to play a little game. Everyone, follow me." The princess instructed. "My name is Charlie," She sang clapping her hands twice. "I like to sing," She clapped twice again. "And when we get to know each other it's the greatest thing!" Charlie ended with two claps, gesturing to Pentious for his turn.

"My names Sir Pentious," The snake demon started unsurely, clapping twice. "I like to build," He clapped again. "And despite my stupid Egg Boi's, I think I'm very skilled." He ended confidently with two claps. Him and Charlie then gestured to Angel, who looked up from his phone to say: "This is stupid."

Charlie's eyebrows furrowed, but her smiled remained. "This is not stupid! It's just the game, Sir Pentious did it well so now please try to do the same!" The blonde sang, dancing over to Angel while clapping on beat. "I am too sober for this." Angel said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Well get used to it and learn how to play, this is gonna be your whole day!" Vaggie added in a singing tone and clapping, smiling sarcastically at the spider demon.

"(Y/N), do you want to give it a try?" Charlie asked, sending a hopeful smile to the doe demon. "Oh! Um..." She brought her hand up to her face in a thinking manner. "My name is (Y/N)," She said with a nervous tone, clapping twice. "I like sweets," The doe demon clapped twice again, still sounding unsure. "And if you're nice to me, I'll make you delicious treats?" She ended with a weak chuckle, clapping twice.

Both Pentious and Alastor's little demon, who was hiding in a shadow on the ceiling, took note of (Y/N)'s rhyme, reporting it back to their masters. Charlie cheered, jumping up and down, "That was so good you guys! I'm proud of you!" She said, mostly to Pentious and (Y/N), making Angel look back to his phone in anger.

*Time Skip*

Charlie had made Angel put on a bloody trench coat and a fedora while making Pentious put on a sailor like shirt and hat. Charlie handed Angel a script and Pentious a large pink lollipop. When (Y/N) came back from the bathroom, she saw all the seats were taken. She went to go stand next to Niffty, but before she could even pass the couch, Alastor stood and gestured to his spot, "Take my seat, dear." (Y/N) raised her eyebrow in question, "Are you sure? I don't mind standing."

Alastor chuckled, "What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't offer up my seat to a lady? I insist!" The doe demon sent him a grateful smile, "Well, thank you, Alastor. I really appreciate it." The Radio Demon felt a tick in his mind. 'There it is again.' He thought, simultaneously confused and irritated. He brushed it off for the time being, nonchalantly dropping a small red pouch in (Y/N)'s lap.

(Y/N) looked from the rose patterned pouch up to Alastor, confusion written on her face. Alastor, on the other hand, continued looking forward at Angel and Pentious, as they started to do their skit. The doe demon looked back down to her lap. She pulled the black ribbon and the pouch opened up, revealing 3 pink macarons with a red raspberry filling. Her eyes sparkled at the treats, looking back up at Alastor, who was still watching Angel and Pentious. She sent a smile his way before turning her attention back to the pouch, tying it back up and placing it in her secret pocket. From the other side of the couch, Vaggie watched the two with a narrowed eye. 'What the hell is going on between those two?'

*Time Skip*

Dinner had just ended and everyone was on their way to their rooms, ready to wind down for the night and go to bed. Except for Angel, after the play he and Pentious did, Angel disappeared to his room. (Y/N) dished up a small portion of dinner onto a plate, about to leave the kitchen. "(Y/N), darling," Alastor started, appearing next to the girl. "What are you doing?" The doe demon looked down to the plate before looking back up to the Radio Demon, "Angel didn't eat, I figured I would bring him some food."

Charlie overheard the two and went up to him, "(Y/N), you're bringing Angel dinner? That's so nice of you! I'm sure we'll be able to get you into Heaven in no time!" (Y/N) gave a strained smile at the compliment, "Ah, thank you. I'm hoping my efforts pay off." While Charlie reassured (Y/N), they continued to walk up the stairs, leaving Vaggie and Alastor behind.

Alastor planned on following, but he halted in his steps when Vaggie called out to him. He raised his eyebrow at her in question. "What is going on between you and (Y/N)?" Vaggie asked, crossing her arms as her brows furrowed. Without hesitating, Alastor responded, "I don't know what you mean." Vaggie scoffed, "Bullshit. Why are you being so friendly with her?"

"Why are you avoiding her?" Alastor shot back, tilting his head. Vaggie paused, hesitating. Eventually, she responded, "I don't... I don't trust her." Alastor's grin grew a little larger, "Exactly." He turned back to the stairs, "Now, as the kids say, you do you and I'll do me." He disappeared into his shadow, leaving Vaggie by herself. 'He's scared of her too? Why?' Vaggie confusedly thought, even more wary of (Y/N).

*Meanwhile*

'Knock, knock, knock.'

"Who is it?" Angel called out from his bed, not bothering to get up. "It's (Y/N). I brought you food since you didn't come down for dinner." She spoke softly yet loud enough to be heard through the door. Angel sighed, not having the energy to yell at her. Plus, he was pretty hungry. "Come in." He said, sitting up in his bed. (Y/N) slowly opened the door, peeking her head in. She then fully entered, making her way to Angel.

(Y/N) sat on the edge of Angel's bed, handing him the plate. The spider demon took it with a thanks and started eating. The doe demon watched him for a moment. She then turned her attention to her hands in her lap, sighing, "Angel... I'm sorry if I am a... disturbance to your life here." Angel was taken aback. He didn't think anyone noticed his behavior today. Even if someone did, he didn't think they would come and apologize to him.

"I, uh," Angel stammered, unsure of how to respond. "If you want, I can leave the hotel. I don't want to put you through any more uncomfortable situations. I know we haven't interacted much, but from what I've seen, I thought we would have made good friends." (Y/N) said, a sad but comforting smile on her face. "W-What?! No!" Angel shouted, surprised that the demoness sitting in front of him was so willing to leave because he was jealous of the attention she and Pentious were getting.

"D-Don't leave," Angel started again, setting his plate aside and moving to sit next to the doe demon. "Listen, I... I'm not upset at ya and I don't think you're a disturbance. It-It's just," He let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't have to worry about what he would say next though, because the woman next to him said exactly what he was thinking. "You started to over think about all of your flaws and insecurities and how there's a possibility that you won't ever change no matter how hard you try?" Angel looked to (Y/N) to already see her looking at him with a weak, but understanding smile. He returned the same smile, "You took the words right out of my mouth."

Angel stood, nodding his head towards the door, "C'mon, let's go get a drink. It's about time you and I get to know each other properly." (Y/N) gave him a genuine smile and stood, "Sounds wonderful." The two made their way down to the bar, chatting along the way. Well, it was mostly Angel talking and (Y/N) commenting here and there. But either way, both of them were smiling.

They arrived at the bar and Angel started rummaging through the alcohol. "Ugh, where's the good stuff?" The spider demon grumbled. At Angel's difficulty to find what he was looking for, (Y/N) decided to help search through the bottles. She happened upon a bottle of raspberry liqueur and got an idea. "Hey, Angel," (Y/N) called out to said male, gaining his attention. "Have you ever had a French martini?"

Angel raised his brow in question, "No, what is it?" (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond but stopped when Angel held up one of his hands, "Ya know what? I don't care as long as it feels like someone is tongue fucking me in my mouth." (Y/N) couldn't help but to giggle at his dirty joke, "Then can you do me a favor and go get me the raspberries from the fridge please? I saw some in there earlier." Angel nodded, heading off to the kitchen while (Y/N) got the other ingredients she needed for the martini.

Angel returned, placing the small container of raspberries on the counter then taking a seat on the other side of the bar. Angel watched with a smile as (Y/N) took a shaker with ice, poured in pineapple juice, raspberry liqueur, and vodka. She placed the lid on the shaker and paused, looking at Angel through the corner of her eye. Before he could ask the doe demon what was wrong, she smirked.

She shook the shaker a few times before throwing it up in the air and catching it behind her back. With quick movements, she shook, twirled, and threw the metal bottle around with a professional flair, getting 'ooo's' and 'ahh's' from the spider demon. When she was done, (Y/N) took the lid off of the shaker, straining the dark pink liquid into two martini glasses. To finish, she garnished the drinks with cocktail picks that held three raspberries.

(Y/N) placed the drink in front of Angel with a 'Ta-Da', receiving an applause from the spider demon. "Bravo! Bravo! I didn't know you were one for showing off." Angel smirked at (Y/N), who came around the bar with her drink to sit next to him. She chuckled, "Well, I only do that for special occasions." (Y/N) said with a warm smile, referring to her and Angel's get-together. The male was touched at her kind words and sent a warm smile back.

"So, tell me," Angel started, taking his drink in hand. "How did someone like you, someone who is super fucking nice for no apparent reason, end up here in Hell?" (Y/N) sighed, looking down to her glass and moving her finger along the rim, "That's the big question, huh?" Angel saw the discomfort on her face and placed one of his hands on her shoulder, "Hey, ya don't have to tell me if you don't want to." The doe demon placed her hand over his, sending Angel a grateful smile, "Thank you, I appreciate that. But, it's going to have to come out eventually." She sighed.

Alastor's spy sensed something big was about to be revealed, so it alerted it's boss. The Radio Demon arrived at the top of the stairs, hiding in the shadows and eavesdropping. "When... I was alive-" (Y/N) started, but was cut off by Angel. "What the?" The doe demon noticed the spider demon was looking behind her. She swiveled in her chair towards that direction, "What's the matter?" She asked, not seeing anything. Angel stood from his seat, leaving his drink at the bar. "C'mon, I saw something." Alastor buzzed in annoyance.

(Y/N) copied Angel, following his lead up the stairs. The two passed Alastor, who was still hidden in the shadows, without knowing. At least, that's how it seemed to the Radio Demon until (Y/N) stopped in her tracks, looking behind her with a raised eyebrow. 'Can she see me?' Alastor thought, starting to worry. But when her (e/c) eyes passed over his figure, not stopping, he let go of his breath that he didn't know he was holding. "(Y/N)!" Angel whisper shouted, gesturing the girl over. "Coming!" The doe demon whispered back, running to the spider demons side.

The two stood in front of the study's door, peeking in through the crack to see Pentious, hiding a camera in-between a few books. At seeing this, Angel pushed the doors open, "You slippery little shit!" Pentious spun around and shouted in fright at the two demons before him. "You're working for the Vee's? I fucking knew there as something shitty about you." Angel said with anger as he approached Pentious, jabbing the snake demon in the chest.

Pentious brushed off Angels hand, starting to slither away, "I don't know what you're talking about," He then turned back to face Angel with a taunting grin, "Whorebug!" (Y/N)'s eyebrows furrowed and she let out a displeased, "Hey!" Angel, on the other hand, growled and pushed Pentious to the floor, punching the snake demon. (Y/N) gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. She promptly rushed out of the room, leaving the two to continue to fight.

The doe demon ran to Charlie and Vaggie's, pounding on the door, "Charlie! Vaggie! You have to come to the study quickly! It's an emergency!" (Y/N) didn't wait for a response as she ran back to the study. But she was relieved when she heard the couples door open.

(Y/N) arrived to the study first to see Angel cornering Pentious. Shortly after, Charlie and Vaggie arrived, both in their pajamas. Charlie had bed head while Vaggie had her spear in her hand, instantly grabbing it when she heard the word: 'emergency'. "What's going on?" Charlie yawned.

Angel took Pentious by his arm, "This little bitch is a traitor!" Pentious yanked his arm out from Angel's grip, "Preposterous, I would never betray you. You... are my best friends!" The snake demon said with a smile, slithering over to give Vaggie and Charlie a big hug. "Uh-hu," Angel started, disbelief in his tone. "Then explain this." He moved the books aside to reveal a camera.

Pentious grew a panicked look, looking behind him to see similar expressions on Charlie and Vaggie's faces. The snake demon started to shout, scrambling to the window, "Ah! Ah! Abort! Abort! S.O.S.! Agent Pentious is in need of immediate evacuation!" He simultaneously pulled on the windows handle and activated the call button on his watch.

A voice buzzed in, "Pentious? Wait... you were caught?!" The voice sounded amused and started to laugh, "It hasn't even been a day!" (Y/N) recognized the voice. 'Is that Vox? The one Alastor was fighting with yesterday?' She thought, already disliking the man she had never met. She was snapped out of her thoughts when Pentious started to speak, "Please, you've got to get me out of here!"

Vox continued to laugh, "I can't believe we thought you could handle even something this simple. Do us a favor, if they don't kill you," His voice went deeper and got more static-y. "Go ahead and do it yourself, you miserable failure!" The call cut off and Pentious grew tears in his eyes, "I... I..."

The teary eyed snake demon turned back around to the other four demons in the room, throwing off his watch and curling up on the floor, "Just make it quick, I guess. Not that I deserve it." Without hesitation, Vaggie responded, brandishing her spear, "Gladly." Charlie pushed Vaggie's spear away, "Wait... Pentious?" The blonde leaned down and held out her hand.

The snake demon looked up with blurry eyes as Charlie began to sing, "It starts with sorry." Pentious took ahold of Charlie's hands as she brought him up to stand at his full height. "That's your foot in the door, one simple sorry." The blonde continued to sing, placing a comforting hand on Pentious chest. He looked at Charlie with disbelief as she sang and danced, "Spoken straight from your core. The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts. But sorry is where it starts."

"Who could forgive a dirtbag like me? I don't deserve your amnesty." Pentious started to sing also, falling to the ground in a dramatic manner. Angel and Vaggie joined in on the singing, Vaggie still holding her spear and Angel pulling out two large guns, "Can't we just kill him? Shoot him and spill his blood."

(Y/N), who was leaning against the doorframe while watching the musical number, heard a faint buzzing noise behind her. She looked out into the dark hallway and saw nothing... but she definitely felt someone watching her. She looked back to the four singing demons before fully entering the hallway.

(Y/N) looked up and down the dark hallway, still not seeing anyone but still hearing the hum of static. "Hello? Is someone there?" Instantly, the static stopped. The silence became eerie and uncomfortable. The doe demon couldn't tear her eyes away from the pitch black of the hallway as she felt as if someone was leering towards her with malice. Instinctively, the ears on the top of her head flattened and she took a step backwards, yelping in fear when her back hit a surface. She spun around to see Alastor.

"Oh my gosh! Alastor! You scared me!" (Y/N) slightly shouted, placing her hand over her chest to try and calm her heartbeat. "I apologize, my dear. I didn't mean to startle you that much." Alastor said, amusement in his voice. (Y/N) shook her head at the Radio Demon's antics, but she couldn't help the small smile that grew on her (plump/thin) lips. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you tried to purposely scare me and thank you."

Alastor tilted his head, confused, "Thank me for what?" The doe demon pulled out a little red pouch from her hidden pocket. "For this. No one has ever given me a gift just because before. It was nice. Thank you, Alastor." (Y/N) sent him a sweet smile. Alastor felt a tick in his mind once more. 'What the hell is that?' He thought, irritated. Ignoring it once again, he responded, "You're welcome, darling. Though, I must admit, it is hard to believe that no one has ever given you a gift before."

(Y/N) weakly chuckled, "Unfortunately for me, it's true. But, thanks to you, I can now say I have been gifted something for no reason. It makes me happy." Her (e/c) eyes crinkled at the corners because of her smile, and Alastor felt the tick in his mind get louder. 'That is starting to get insufferable.' Alastor thought, aggravated. While lost in his thoughts, Alastor started to emit a buzzing noise, catching (Y/N)'s attention.

The doe demon gave the Radio Demon a concerned stare, "Alastor?" Said male shook his head, his attention back on the girl. "Are you okay?" (Y/N) asked. "Yes, darling. Sorry to space out like that." Alastor said. Just then, the two heard Pentious shout in pain. They look to the study doors to see an angry Niffty walking away, being followed by the rest of the demons.

Angel looked over and saw the two deer-like demons. "(Y/N)," He called out, waving said girl over. "We gonna finish our drinks or what?" (Y/N) nodded, "I'll meet you down there." Angel shrugged in response, heading back to the bar. "I guess they must have decided to let Pentious stay." The doe demon said, turning back to the Radio Demon.

Alastor responded while offering his arm to (Y/N), "Hm, yes, it seems so." Wordlessly, (Y/N) linked her arm with Alastor's, and the two started walking to the study. They entered the room and unlinked their arms, Alastor heading to the watch while (Y/N) went for the camera. Alastor flicked the watch on, an angry Vox appearing, "What?!" But once seeing who was on the other side of the call, the TV demon retracted. "You'll have to try harder than that next time, old pal." Alastor taunted, crushing and dropping the watch. The last thing any one heard before the watch shut off for good, was Vox's infuriated screams.

(Y/N) looked from Alastor back to the camera, "Why does Vox want to watch us?" Alastor appeared behind the girl, placing both of his hands on her shoulders. "He's threatened by me." His reply may have sounded simple, but hidden in his tone was pure cynical joy. (Y/N) hummed in response, then crushed the camera with her bare hands, her palms and fingers turning into a darker shade of (s/c) and her nails growing into claws. Her hands were only like that for a literal second before they reverted, but in that second, Alastor felt power emit from her. The power he felt didn't make him worry, but it made him think that having this doe on his side would help him in reaching his goal.

"How fascinating!" Alastor spoke, his features going darker and his grin becoming sinister. When (Y/N) turned to face the Radio demon again, his facial features went back to how they normally are. (Y/N) raised her eyebrow at Alastor, about to ask him about his earlier comment. Before she could, though, Alastor offered his arm to her, "Shall we get going? Angel Dust is waiting for you." The doe demons (e/c) eyes went wide at remembering her new friend. She dropped the camera and hooked her arm with Alastor's, "We shall."

Alastor walked (Y/N) down to the bar, bidding her and Angel a goodnight before leaving the two. Angel and (Y/N) continued their chat session from earlier, (Y/N) having two more drinks after her first one and Angel having five more after his first. The doe demon made sure the tipsy spider demon made it to his bed fine before leaving for her own, finally ending the night.

*Meanwhile*

In his 'throne room' of TV's, Vox watched one specific video on loop.

"Why does Vox want to watch us?"

"He's threatened by me."

"Hm."

The video cut out. Then it started playing again. Each time he watched it, he became more and more irritated. To help himself calm down, he decided to cut out the part that irritated him. The part that was full of static, the part where his most hated enemy taunted him, the part where that old-timey asshole had his hands on the woman Vox was forming a crush on. Vox tapped on a few buttons, editing the video. Then, he hit play.

"Why does Vox want to watch us?"

To him, (Y/N) was what he thought angels should look and sound like. She was his little piece of Heaven. And he wanted her. The TV demon pressed a button. "Vox." (Y/N) voice came through the speakers. He pressed the button again. "Vox." He loved hearing his name come from her voice. Click, "Vox." Click, "Vox." Click. "Vox."

"Wow, you must be down bad."

The TV demon shouted in surprise, turning to see Valentino and Velvette chuckling. Vox started to glitch, infuriated, "GET OUT!"

*Time Skip, Next Day*

"Uh, (Y/N)? Something was delivered for you." Charlie called out to the doe demon. (Y/N) approached the blonde and saw she was holding a white box that was wrapped in a dark blue ribbon. "Does it say who it's from?" She asked, searching the box for a return address. Charlie shook her head, equally confused.

(Y/N) placed the box on the table as everyone gathered, curious as to what the doe demon received. She undid the ribbon and opened the box, revealing a dozen cupcakes that were decorated with dark blue and gray frosting. Everyone let out sounds of astonishment, except for Alastor, at the cupcakes beautifully done aesthetic.

[A/N: Something like these. Image does not belong to me.]

(Y/N) noticed an envelope fall from the boxes lid and picked it up, seeing it addressed to her. She carefully opened it and pulled out a letter. "Well, what does it say?" Angel asked as he saw the doe demon open the envelope. Everyone's attention was back on her, waiting for her to read the letter. And she did just that.

"'To the beautiful (Y/N). I hope these cupcakes find you well. I heard from a little snake that anything sweet is your favorite. It saddens me that we haven't formally met and I wish to change that. I would love it if you were to meet me tonight at the restaurant Sinful Delight at 6:00 PM. I hope to see you there, gorgeous. Love, Vox."

...

"What?!"

Tag list:

@gh0stedddd @raeinn @vixie--21 @mistresslemonsuger @lilmou5ie

#x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor hartfelt x reader #alastor hartfelt #alastor x reader #alastor #bare your soul fanfic

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