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after-witch · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel yandere Alastor imagine

note: discussions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, afab reader, misogny

Oh, to be in Hell and working for Valentino, who uses and abuses you, who goes from hot to cold depending on his moods, whims, and whatever might be pissing him off or propping him up at the moment.

It's not the living you wanted to be making. It's not the life--or afterlife--that you envisioned for yourself. But you owe him so much money (he fed you, and clothed you, and kept a roof over your ungrateful head, didn't he?) and you don't know how else you could pay him back.

But one day you happen to catch someone whispering about this new Hotel where you might be able to get better? Where life might be able to get better? Where you might get, and the word refuses to even catch on your tongue despite it dancing in your ears, redeemed?

You want that. All of it. Even it means risking getting the (after) life beaten out of you.

And on a rare free morning you sneak out and make your way to the front door and a tiny (cute, but, horrifying) little maid answers but before she can get a word in edgewise, a blonde woman--the literal princess of Hell, you realize--jumps into the doorway and grabs your hand to shake it vigorously and welcome you in with the biggest smile you've ever seen that isn't (for once) tinged with something awful behind it.

You practically trip inside as she excitedly pulls you into the foyer where a gaggle of people are sitting on a velvet couch and oh, shit, you know one of them.

Angel. You knew he was here--Val would not stop bitching about it--but it's different hearing about him being involved in this little project and actually seeing him out of the studio.

When Angel sees you, he freezes, his eyebrows shoot practically to the sky. And you're about to beg him not to tell Val, please-please-please, Angel might get away with being here but you don't have that kind of sway, when someone slides in front of you.

Red hair, pointy teeth, a fantastically red coat.

Alastor, of course.

You're not supposed to talk to him. Val and Vox made it clear to everyone in the studio. The Radio Demon is an "old timey fuck" who needs to fuck off and any one caught fraternizing with him might as well be fucking dead (or they'd wish they were) so stay away.

And his reputation wasn't any better with what you'd heard on the street.

But... he doesn't seem all that bad. And you were already taking a Big Fucking Risk by coming here, it's not like Val would go easier on you if you pleaded that sure, you snuck out, sure you came here when you knew you shouldn't, but you clamped your mouth shut and didn't talk to Alastor, you swear!

"Greetings," he says, and you want to smile a little. Because he really does sound like a radio, the kind your mom used to listen to when you were young, even though they were going out of style. Sometimes you missed that, sitting around the table while the radio played, tinny voices and music playing.

"Hi," you manage, voice quiet. "I mean, greetings," you say, stupidly, really.

But he doesn't call you a moron (like Val might) or ignore you (like Vox might)--instead he dips and picks up your wrist gently and he actually kisses your hand, a perfunctory gentlemanly peck of a greeting, instead of licking a slimy trail up your arm like Val is prone to do.

Can you help the little "oh!" that escapes your lips? No. Can you help the heated flush that creeps up your chest? No.

And if he, to everyone's surprise, winds up taking you under his wing--can you complain? No.

He doesn't tell you, like Val did, that you'll pay him back every red cent when he conjures up a closet full of clothes to replace your scant wardrobe. The clothes are modest and lovely and again, your mom springs to mind. The stuff she'd pull out of her closet and hold to her chest sometimes, because they no longer fit.

You wish you'd worn those clothes, when you got old enough to fit into them. But they were moth eaten and out of style and you'd look at her aghast when she asked if you wanted them when you were moving out.

So you didn't. But now... well, they don't fit so bad, do they? You even look nice in them. Alastor says "you're a vision of loveliness, dear," when you wear one of the outfits he's picked out. And you're not sure if it's a pun on his name or a genuine compliment, but you thank him all the same.

Charlie agrees to set up a room for you and Alastor helps with that, too. Although his help mostly involved changing out the standard linens for something nicer, stocking your closet and dresser with old fashioned clothes, and removing the TV.

You almost protested, but he reminded you that "your old friend Vox just might pop in and see you" and ah, it all made sense.

Alastor was looking out for you. Like he did with the clothes. Like he does with the way he helps you navigate the vague, ever-changing lessons that Charlie tries to teach.

Everyone here is nice, all things considered, for Hell.

It's not perfect.

Sometimes you would like to wear something more flashy and stylish, but what outfits Charlie manages to procure never seem to make it into your wardrobe.

Angel always looks like he's going to vomit when Val calls because at this point you are considered "missing" and Val does not like it when his "whores try to ghost him," as you'd once heard him screeching on Angel's phone.

Angel always denies that you're here, denies that he's seen you, and for once, you're glad he can act well when it really matters.

And if Alastor gets a little too clingy... if he gets a little too controlling? If sometimes he reminds you of Val, pushing and pulling you in the directions he wants, you just remind yourself that he's not as bad.

He doesn't ever, ever hit you. He doesn't yell at you or even raise his voice, really!

He corrects, that's all.

Steers you to the right outfits, reminds you how to act like a lady (something he never seems to do with anyone else, to your embarrassment); gently grabs your wrist and brings you along with him around the Hotel, into the shadows of the streets where you won't be seen when he thinks you need some good old fashioned exercised or fresh air. (If the air in hell could be considered "fresh" is another thing entirely.)

So yes.

He might be a little controlling. You can admit that. Even if he has your best interest in mind.

But every time that little thought creeps into your head, you just remind yourself. He's not as bad as Val.

And when you're in Hell, "he's not as bad" might as well mean that he's good.

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere alastor #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x reader #yandere #afterwitch writes #oops this was supposed to be a short lil thing

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foldingfittedsheets · 8 days

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Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #funny #story #writing #my beloved #fun fact I'm the same way on roller coasters #I just scream a terrified narration and my beloved thinks its the funnies thing

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psuedosugu · 3 months

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Ohhhh my golly I saw your Vox x daughter reader an it got me thinking now HEAR ME OUT….what if reader got bored on day an just went for a walk and somehow came across Alastor, now let’s say Alastor’s a lil confused like he never knew Vox had a daughter and readers like *sad sigh* “I’d be surprised if anyone knew” an Alastors all fatherly to her at first it was to get dirt on Vox without reader realizing but in the end he just liked hanging out with her. Eventually Vox noticed how his daughter is gone half the time but reader just convinces her dad that she’s always home and how HES the one always away. Change the ending how you see fit or do whatever you like but UGH I love your writing stay hydrated and eat wellll🩵

assjjjkkj thank youuu the amount of feedback ive gotten on this acc that ive only been posting on for like 3 days is insane, anyways this is such an interesting idea omgee

cw: reader having some emotionally absent daddy issues

fem reader

pt 1 here

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

͙͘͡★ || so you had just gone out on an innocent walk, right?

͙͘͡★ || well, technically snuck out since your dad doesn’t like you going out by yourself.

͙͘͡★ || theres bad people out there! what if you got kidnapped or something?

͙͘͡★ || no one recognizes you, of course, since he doesn’t really talk about you let alone shows you to the public.

͙͘͡★ || you appreciate him for that, you guess, it must be annoying to not be able to go anywhere without a bunch of microphones in your face.

͙͘͡★ || you just wish he was around more! he barely makes any time for you and yeah, his work is super important and time consuming but you’re his daughter!

͙͘͡★ || lost in thought, you bump into a dude in the sidewalk.

͙͘͡★ || “whoops! excuse me, ma’am!”, he says in a weird, static-ish voice.

͙͘͡★ || your skeleton almost jumps out of your skin when you look up.

͙͘͡★ || the radio demon, the guy that your dad has had beef with since you were little

͙͘͡★ || you just stare at him with a “ :o “ look on your face, not knowing if you should run or not.

“little girl, are you, um, alright?” he stares down at you, slightly confused.

“im…uhhh…im okay!”

“you’ve heard of me, i suppose.”

“i guess…. my dad doesn’t really like you.”

“and who might your father be, hm?”

“yk the tv dude? the one thats, like, everywhere? yeah, that him.”

“hmm…interesting…i wasn’t aware he had a daughter…”

“well, he doesn’t really talk about…..”

͙͘͡★ || at this point you stop blabbing mid sentence, realizing you probably shouldn’t have said all of that to his sworn enemy.

͙͘͡★ || what if he does kidnap you and holds you for ransom?

͙͘͡★ || but he doesn’t do that, surprisingly.

͙͘͡★ || he asks you why you’re out alone so late and you shrug, saying that your dad wasn’t really there to stop you.

͙͘͡★ || you were naive and alastor was planning to use that to his advantage, not to hurt you, but to hurt vox.

͙͘͡★ || what would he think when he found out that his own daughter was buddy-buddy with his sworn enemy?

͙͘͡★ || he’d feel like a failure of a father, and thats what alastor wanted, to get under his skin.

͙͘͡★ || you guys walked while you told him everything, about him being away all the time, about you feeling lonely, while he nodded along

͙͘͡★ || you guys even stopped at one of those old timey bar places and bought you a milkshake!

͙͘͡★ || eventually you headed home, your dad hadn’t noticed you had been gone which figures.

͙͘͡★ || this became routine, you hung out with alastor and he gave you advice and stuff. you thought that if he had an ulterior motive it would’ve shown itself by now but no, it hadn’t.

͙͘͡★ || alastor himself had started to forget why he had even started all of this. he found himself enjoying your company and actually caring about you.

͙͘͡★ || after a while vox started to notice that he’s been seeing you less than he usually does.

͙͘͡★ || i mean, the tower is big but cmon! there were days where he would barely see you at all! where were you going?

͙͘͡★ || he confronted you about it at dinner one day.

“[name], dearest, i cant help but notice that i haven’t been seeing you around much lately. what’ve you been up to?”

͙͘͡★ || you pause, looking up from your food.

“i, um, dont know what you’re talking about.”

͙͘͡★ || he furrows his (virtual) eyebrows.

“is that so?”

“mhm!”

͙͘͡★ || vox is reasonably skeptical and resorts to spying on you through your smartwatch because of course you have a voxtech branded smartwatch!

͙͘͡★ || hes absolutely livid when he finds out who you’ve been sneaking out to be with and he’s waiting for you when you get home.

͙͘͡★ || you’re indefinitely grounded until he says so and he starts tracking where you go in the tower.

͙͘͡★ || he knows that its a violation of privacy and stuff but dont you see that he’s trying to protect you? alastor is dangerous! he doesn’t get how you didn’t see it earlier.

͙͘͡★ || alastor does succeed on what he set out to do, though. vox is distraught, feeling like a horrible father. he even vents to valentino about it out of all the people!

“-i mean, what kind of father doesn’t even notice their own child sneaking out in broad daylight every day? i should’ve paid more attention to her, im a failure!”

“mhm….yeah….”

͙͘͡★ || val obviously doesn’t give a shit.

͙͘͡★ || after not bumping into you for a while and seeing the up in vox slandering him online, alastor figures what happened.

͙͘͡★ || he’s glad that he succeeded in his mission to bother vox further but does miss talking to you.

͙͘͡★ || vox does vow to make more time for you and be a more attentive dad, so i guess some good comes out of this.

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

i do requests!

check out my masterlist!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #platonic hazbin hotel x reader #platonic vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #x reader #vox x reader

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a-little-ray-of-fantasy · 8 months

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Barnaby facts (confirmed by the devs)

Hello! Since I was bored and it's making me so happy to see Barnaby getting so much love lately, I've decided to collect all the info I have about him! I most likely missed something, so if you have info I haven't put here, or got wrong, let me know, ok? ^^

Anyhoo, here we go! **}

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- Barnaby, despite his name, is not a barn owl. He's actually a long eared owl.

- Barnaby isn't his real name; he used to have a different one, back in his alive days. One of the drawings featuring him has him surrounded by many names starting with "B".

- Said illustration has "Who am I?" hidden among the names and words such as "Where" and "Help", hinting at something linked to his identity is torturing him.

- It's been stated that Barnaby is the way he is because of a dangerous experiment that corrupted then killed him, changing him completely as a result.

- Barnaby is asexual homoromantic, and is genderfluid: while he goes primarly by "he/him", he accepts any pronoun.

- He considers his Barnaboos as his "little pretties", and often offers help or advice if they need it; of course, his help may not be as helpful as he believes...

- He hates cheesecake.

- He's not a fan of rootbeer neither; he will serve it in his parties, but he personally won't drink it.

- His favorite food is eye scream, and favorite Halloween treat are caramel apples.

- As for ice cream, his favorite flavor is Strawberry Shortcake.

- Speaking of food, yeah, he doesn't need to eat, nor sleep. But still likes doing it anyway.

- Barnaby is a confirmed sleepyhead. He naps a lot, but never in an ordinary position, or in his bed; he tends to sleep in various gravity bending position, especially upside down.

- Meaning, yes, when Billie comes to steal his gem, he was sleeping!

- And when he sleeps, he apparently snores and hoots.

- While hugging him would result in a kill from him, Ash confirmed Barnaby is a hugger! Hugging him would still involve him squeezing or stabbing you to death, tho'. And he'd feel both soft and slimy to the touch.

- Barnaby is around 10-11ft tall, and with his size-shifting abilities, he can be any height he wants; when he was alive tho', he's as tall as Aristotle, more or less.

- He doesn't need glasses anymore, but sometimes will wear them because they make him look smart. They also tend to follow the eyes' movements.

- Barnaby is very emotional: while it won't stop him from trying to kill you, he will cry if he sees you cry. Ironically, he would comfort you until you feel better. Then he'll kill you.

- It's been confirmed that Barnaby's biggest fear has "already come true".

- His tears are orange, just like his eyes.

- Barnaby is not one to open his heart easily, but the moment he does, there's many ways to reach it. He's quite romantic, tho' not in the usual way: if you gave him a dead rat, he'd consider it a very romantic gesture!

- It's been stated he doesn't have a partner now, but in life, "maybe".

- When it comes to children, it's been confirmed he'd be the best caregiver alongside Dutch, althought for him "it's complicated".

- He apparently had a child of his own, if the picture posted about him during "Father's Day" is any indication. What happened to the little one hasn't been revealed yet.

- Apparently he's the least judgemental character in BBU!

- If he had a TV, it'd be old timey, and he'd watch something really random. Like ducks.

- Barnaby loves small critters; Ash specifically mentions they always linked him with guinea pigs. And indeed, Barnaby had a science guinea pig co-worker once, that turned into an actual guinea pig because of a reckless experiment, and he took care of them.

- He's able to control reality; it's unclear if it's his gem's doing, or his magic power as a ghost.

- In any case, he's now the most powerful character in the game

- Back in his alive days, he was a magic researcher and scientist.

- He actually owned the gem before he turned into a ghost. He even experimented on it, and it's suggested that actually sealed his fate.

- A lot of songs from Oingo Boingo and Lemon Demon fit him: Ash specifically mentioned "Weird Science" as really "Barnabycore"

- Barnaby is autistic: he stims by hooting and flapping his wings when he's excited.

- When he's scared or nervous, he tends to cover himself with his wings.

- Katie said that, if he were a candy, he'd be a sour blueberry.

- Barnaby lives in his own dimension, with his own mansion and everything. And he can travel between realities. Although one comment from Katie suggests he's trapped in there, but it's too early to say for sure.

- According to the devs, he was inspired by Weird Al Yankovic, Lewis from Mystery Skulls and Discord from MLP.

- No, he wasn't inspired by Snatcher, since the development of BBU has lasted longer than A Hat in Time. The two of them canonically know each other tho': only problem is, Snatcher hates Barnaby's guts and finds him too clingy, while the owl adores him.

- He canonically knows Wally Darling from "Welcome Home" and Kira from "Far Fetched" too, since he can travel between realities.

- Barnaby has his guests come to his home by portals that pop just below them. He apparently has kidnapped people before, every once in a while.

- He'd get along well with Dutch.

- It's left vague whether he knows Fantoccio or not.

- He actually has never met Arthur nor Aristotle before the game.

- In any case, he'd find Aristotle really funny, and wouldn't take them seriously.

-- Barnaby is aware of the player, and can break the 4th wall. And that's why only he can use Twitter.

- Whenever he writes on Twitter, hE WRiTSE LIkE THIS!!!

- Barnaby is REALLY mischeavous, and finds no problem in cheating in games. But if YOU cheat, then he gets ticked off.

- This suggests he's also a sore loser.

- Judging by his expression in the cutscene, he doesn't like being interrupted.

- It's been confirmed he smells like meldew. :P

- He could fake glitching out, then attack the moment you come to check out what's going on with him.

- He HATES party crashers. Also scarecrows: not good for conversations. And he's not interested in their crops.

- He can play the organ: Katie even suggested that if you hear it in the background of his chapter, that's him playing it.

- He was a young prodigy, back when he was alive!

- Don't be fooled by his goofy antics: he's very smart, still loves making experiments and can speak a lot of languages.

- Ironically, he hates skulls: he finds them icky.

- He was 25-26 when he died; he's been dead for 100+ years.

- Time is very important for him: that's why there's so many clocks in his parlor. It's been suggested he sees partying as a way to keep track with time.

- Despite that, Barnaby himself in the contest video has briefly stated he tends to forget what year it is.

- There's tons of pictures in his manor: all of them depict him, suggesting he's good at painting.

- Katie has noted that Barnaby "remembers everything". When asked if there's something he'd rather forget, they stated that "what he wants and what he needs are very different things".

- His family is "infinite", apparently. Then again, one of his very early descriptions stated he's got no friends nor family to speak about...

- He's been described as "self interested"

- When asked which character had the most trauma, without giving hints about being traumatized, Katie confirmed Barnaby as the answer, even stating his story makes them the saddest, alongside Fanto's.

- His favorite color is pink!

- He can change himself into lots of animals, and can even clone himself!

- When asked if he can talk to his alive self, Katie said it's "technically possible".

- Back when he was alive, he was noted as a dork and a hardworker, so much so he'd even pull one-nighters before making speeches for his research. Katie jokingly suggested that's why he parties so much: it's to make up for lost time!

- He had a different way of speaking, back when he was alive. And his icks were probably different as well.

- When he gets overwhelmed, he has a shutdown, and goes completely silent.

- At early stages, Barnaby was supposed to be a bug.

- The moment his design as a ghost was chosen, he went through a lot of palette options, like a pale blue color like he came from "The Haunted Mansion", or all colorful like "Dia de los Muertos". Ultimately they settled for his currently shadowy look because, not only it's easier to animate, it was in line with his backstory.

- Barnaby can melt. It's still unclear what triggers such a reaction, but some pictures hint that it's tied to his psychological state.

- Barnaby has been noted that he can talk fancy, but he's not eloquent.

- His favorite dance is the charleston!

- Ash has stated that in the game he is going to be depicted doing something similiar to "singing himself to sleep".

- Apparently he still makes pellets from his mouth. Dead or not, he's still an owl.

- He often puts emphasis on words, sometimes even making his bowtie spin.

- In the latest Twitter post featuring him, when you decode the garbled message, you can read: "Barnaby lies Along in his thoughts, Resting On the floor Neglected". Not only this hints at his turmoil, it also hides the word "BARON". It's unclear if it's his name, a title he possessed, or someone or thing else entirely connected to him.

- He loves recieving scretches on his head.

- Barnaby can cook, but he'll more often than not leave that to the Barnaboos.

- He's not that interested in gardening, even tho' he owns a greenhouse.

- He'd enjoy playing "Luigi's Mansion"!

- In Super Smash Bros. he'd main Meta Knight, even relating to him.

- He'd happily accept smoochies, apparently!

- His favorite party game is "Pin the tail on the owl".

- If you are his friend, he'd consider it even more of a reason to stay in the manor and never leave!

- He has claimed that he's used to give himself self love and compliments, since no one else does it. That, and his tendency to ask others for hugs or if they need a hug to calm down, suggests he's affection starved.

- He tends to react to compliments from fans by smiling bashfully, or happily shouting that he's popular.

- Katie stated that his favorite movie would be something unexpected, like "Marnie & Me" or "Up".

- Barnaby can see everything from the eyes of the plushies that look like him. So, if you bought one... watch out...

- Among his early designs, he also looked like a completely different owl, tall and austere looking, who was the guardian of the forest. It was changed because the devs wanted a goofy boss that could stand out among the others.

- Having said that, it seems Barnaby was the last boss to be officially revealed, and initially the game only had Elaine, Dutch and Fantoccio as the main bosses.

- Barnaby LOVES puns. A good deal of the lines he says when you get defeated in his chase contain a pun.

- You try being slick by stating you want to die of old age? Too bad: Barnaby will make you age rapidly. Despite that, Katie confirmed he doesn't have time related powers...

- Katie and Ash confirmed Barnaby can fly. And such a sight is apparently really hilarious.

- Barnaby loves shiny trinkets: if he sees a sparkly thread, he'll fixate on it and will follow its movements. It's like with a cat following a laser.

- Barnaby has teeth; they're orange and sharp, and come out when he's ticked off, or especially devious.

- When he was alive, he only used he/him pronouns. He became comfortable with all pronouns after he died. He's always been interested in men.

- This goes without saying, but still: he operates on cartoon logic. He can use both his wings AND his feet as hands. Even both feet can act as hands, even when they appear off camera. How? Because it's Barnaby and he can do anything he sets his mind into!

#Billie Bust Up #BBU Barnaby #Barnaby #Fave Character #Comfort Character #Personal Rambles

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nomazee · 1 year

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open up

sebastian (sdv) x reader

word count: 3.5k

content: silly love again, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, some goofs and giggles and misunderstandings, the teeniest tiniest inkling of angst but it’s covered up with silliness, the word hussy is used which is the funniest word ever and i’m so glad i discovered it it’s so old-timey-small-town word

notes: this is a part three to my little mini series w sebastian! you can find part one here, and part two here!

oh hey guys this is probably completely indecipherable but i’ve been rewriting this over and over again this past week and decided that this is my most proudest version of this work and maybe there will be more but this... is IT (i’m lying and will be writing more companion pieces to this okay much love love all of u mwah)

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Hiding from your problems does not fix everything. In fact, it doesn’t fix anything.

It’s a lesson you should’ve figured out the first time you did it. You remember being back in grade school, forgetting to study for a test one year and faking a rash in the nurse’s office to get out of it. The rash in question was a collection of the healing, scabbed-over cat scratches on your forearm. You’d drawn over it harshly with dark red pen and marker to create some kind of rash-like illusion. In the end all you got was a disappointed look from the nurse, an ugly smear of red and burgundy on your arm, and a D-minus on your world history test.

So, yes. Hiding has dreadful consequences. And even just during your time in Stardew Valley, you should’ve known to keep this lesson close to your heart. This is the second time you’ve run away from Sebastian already, and the first time didn't last long anyways. Stupid, silly you.

In your defense, it wasn’t really Sebastian you were running away from. It was his mom. For three days following your stupid kissing shenanigans, Robin terrorized your dreams, and your daydreams, and the reflections of yourself that you saw in the tiny pond on your farm…

So, yes it’s safe to say that running away was not doing you any good. But what other choice did you have?

You’re an adult. You could totally scrape apart what’s left of your dignity and act like it—maybe take the walk up to the mountains and apologize to Robin and Sebastian, too. Tell them that it was wrong of you to be so promiscuous on their front porch (promiscuous, of course, equating to one single kiss on the lips that lasted no more than ten seconds), and that you’d never do it again and never even look Sebastian in the eyes, if that’s what they wanted.

While you’re at it, maybe you’d be able to ask Robin for the coop upgrade that you’ve needed for weeks now. All you have to do is… be an adult and face your problems. Your one massive roadblock of a problem.

It’s not even a problem, per se. But you’ve embarrassed yourself far too much in front of the people in this town and you’re a little tired of taking blow after devastating blow to your reputation. You’d rather wilt and rot here, on the soil of your farm, with your duck walking her webbed feet across your chest and leaving damp marks all over your shirt.

This is peace. This is where you could die, decomposing in your leftover humiliation from the week before. But of course—all good things come to an end, and the end comes to you in the form of a distinct lack of wheat seeds in your storage containers.

Dreadful. This is a sign from some higher power that it’s finally time for you to get your ass up and go into town. Face the world like an adult. Get your wheat seeds so that you and your animals don’t starve to death and rot away on this already-rotting farm. Ugh.

Your duck pads up your chest and leans her face into yours. Her beady little eyes stare right into your soul. She’s begging you. Begging you to get wheat so her plump little body doesn’t start to deteriorate. What a manipulator.

A heavy, bone-rattling sigh escapes you as you gently push her off of you and sit up. This is it. You have to face everyone, again, after embarrassing yourself in front of the stupid boy you like and his mother, of all people. Fortunately for you, they live up in the mountains, so a little trip to PIerre’s in town wouldn’t be so much of a risk. You’d be fine. You could still be a functioning adult, so long as you didn't wander up north where the mines were.

…

Okay, well. You lied to yourself.

It was all a big lie. A big lie you told yourself to feel some kind of security about leaving your stupid, lonely farm and going into town and getting the stupid seeds that you needed. You’re a liar, a fraud, and a chronic-problem-avoider, and none of those problems would ever get fixed during your probably-very-short-lifespan. Short, of course, because you were going to die in the middle of Pierre’s shop, right here and right now in the produce aisle.

Because of course, as luck would have it, Sebastian is right there too. Staring at you. Holding two unshucked ears of corn, in his hands. You would laugh at how silly he looked if this wasn’t so humiliating.

“Um.” He’s the first to say anything. Hearing his voice after a week startles you enough to make you stiffen even more and your shaky hands threaten to drop the seed packets to the floor. His eyes are wide and there’s a flush to his cheeks that might be from the leftover chill of the outdoors. Despite everything, you hope maybe it’s because of you instead.

You can’t form words. Your mouth flutters open and closed like a trapdoor until you decide to keep them tightly shut. Devastating. Humiliating. Mortifying. There are so many words that you’ve used so often over the last two weeks that you could continue to use here. Your vocabulary is not very expansive in the slightest, but it’s not your fault you’ve been put in the same types of scenarios so often.

“Hello,” you choke out. Surprisingly, your voice is steady for the most part. The rest of you is not. The seeds rattle in your hands and you can feel your legs locked up. Anxiety floods through you like ice water and freezes in your bone marrow. You’re stuck. You might throw up. Again, this is a very common theme in every interaction you have with Sebastian. Very unfortunate.

Even more unfortunate is the fact that, despite all the embarrassment and chagrin and overall-horrifying matter of events, you still want to kiss him. You’re reliving the ten-second kiss from the last time you saw him and it’s making you enter some parallel universe in your head—one where his mom didn't catch you kissing, and where he liked you back and maybe let you sleep over his house like he said he would, and where you could kiss him even more. You’re getting whiplash from everything running through your head. God.

“I, um…” he clearly feels just as awkward, which does nothing to reassure you. “Haven’t seen you in a while. We thought you’d… show up to the saloon, or.” Sebastian cuts himself off early. He must realize by your completely unmoving form that you’re not planning on loosening up at all during the course of this conversation.

“Right, um,” you scramble for some kind of excuse but you know that regardless of what you say, he’s gonna know. He’s not gonna believe a single thing you say, because he knows. He was there. He was the one that you kissed.

There’s no way he’s not completely aware at this time. Totally and utterly aware that you’re indescribably in love with him, more than infatuated. He must know that you like him so much it makes your chest hurt and your head ache with the untamable need to kiss him stupid every time you see his face. He must know. You’d risked it all, laid it open on the table for him last week when you kissed him and he didn't do much with it, really, which was fine but—he must know. After all of this.

A thought rushes through your head and it immediately heats up the ice in your bones. You’re moving, now, this time at a pace that can only be achieved by spontaneous ferocity and a phobia of the mother of the boy you like. You’re quick to act, lunging forward and grabbing his arm to pull his entire form behind the shelf.

“Is your mom here?!” you whisper harshly at him. You didn't even think of it until now, the fact that he might be here with his mother and that would mean you’d have to face her not on your own terms. A confrontation would start up in the middle of this quiet, quaint little grocery store, and you’d have to yield and nod at an angry ginger woman as she called you a hussy, or something. Or— no, Robin wouldn’t call you a hussy. She was too nice for that. Pam would call you a hussy, probably. Well.

The distress in your voice must come out clearly enough for him because he frantically shakes his head and whispers back a definite no! It’s too late to reel you back in, though, and your mind is already going a million miles a minute. If you’re going to do anything, you have to do it now, because otherwise you will never speak a single word to this family ever again.

“You— Please tell your mom that I’m sorry, like so very very sorry, and I will give her so many of my crops and hardwood and stone to make up for everything. And—” you shush him when he tries to interrupt, talking over him rapidly to stop him from trying it again, “—I didn't mean to— or, I did mean— um, point is. Tell your mom. I’m so sorry. And that I really need a coop upgrade and I’ll pay her double what it normally is to make up for everything.” You pause. “Please.”

Sebastian is. Speechless. It’s not often that you see him like this—in fact, you don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him like this. His mouth flutters open and closed. Trapdoor, just like you, earlier. The shared traits between both of you make you want to throw up and scream. It’s too endearing and you want to rip your heart out before another situation happens just like last time, this time with Pierre as your witness.

“What…” he begins, “are you talking about?” The furrow in his brow is one of genuine confusion, and so is the high-pitched lilt of his questioning voice. It only serves to make you more confused. And more agitated because this is really really embarrassing and the heat of it is starting to settle on your face and neck.

“What. Do you think. I’m talking about.”

He obviously does not get the hint. He stays quiet, expression frustratingly unmoving as he blinks once, twice, three times at you. Holy shit.

“I’m not going to say it,” you tell him. Any kind of confidence you had going into this conversation has dissipated and melted into a gooey kind of embarrassment. Suddenly, you’re back in the grade school nurse’s office, flinching at the disappointed look she gives you as she writes you a pass back to class—back to your impending doom and the D-minus that awaits you. This is that. This is worse than that by ten— no, a thousand times.

“Are you five years old? What are you talking about, just say—!”

“You are so embarrassing.” You hiss at him, but there’s really no weight in your lackluster insult. It’s more of a half hearted attempt to get him to stop talking about everything and anything, at least until you get out of this goddamn store and maybe even this goddamn town where everyone likes to gossip.

You nearly tear the stupid ears of corn out of his stupid hands in your rush to get out of this store. “Are you— Is this the only thing you’re buying?” At his nod, you grab three more packets of miscellaneous seeds and start your rushed walk to the counter to check out.

“What are you doing?!” His voice is a frantic whisper, matching your tone, but it’s less aggravated and more just genuinely confused. Sebastian seems dazed, threaded into the spinning loom of your contagious anxiety. You feel bad about it, really, but you’re threaded right next to him in an aggravating bright yellow string, and it’s hard to untangle yourself.

“Please shut up,” you mumble, and then you’re at the counter and ignoring Pierre’s worried look as you pull crinkled dollar bills from your pockets. The transaction is fast, thankfully, and the cost of Sebastian’s items doesn’t set you back too much. Before you know it, you’re gripping part of his hoodie sleeve and dragging him out the door behind you.

The chill of fall hits you when you step outside. A foggy breath escapes you as you gain the courage to turn back at him. “You. Need to take these to your mom,” you thrust the stupid corn back into his arms and he catches them, thankfully, “and tell her I’m sorry. And pretend everything never happened. Tell her I’m. Really super very sorry.”

“I don’t think you— I’m. Not sure I understand,” he counters you, hesitant but determined in the way he keeps going, “she’s not mad at you. Why are you apologizing? I haven’t seen you for a week and now…?”

Aw. Maybe you should find it sweet that he seems at least a little bit upset about not seeing you, almost like he missed you. That delusional thought is muffled by the stress of everything you’re talking about, though.

“Hussy.”

“What?”

“Um.” There is no coming back from this. “Does she— Do people say that here? Does she. Think I’m a hussy.”

This is a ridiculous conversation. Every single interaction you’ve had with Sebastian, ever, has been ridiculous, and this is doing nothing to disprove that. You’ve actually going to puke. You know, it’s been just a joking threat these past few weeks, but this time you’re really going to vomit all over his stupid skater sneakers.

He’s dead silent, startled into submission by your words and you can’t even blame him. Who says the word hussy?! Why did you think anyone would call you a hussy?!?!

“I kissed her son in the dead of night right in front of her house,” you speak slowly and clearly, forcing yourself past the utter mortification that freezes your fingers and makes bile stir in your stomach, “and you’re saying that she doesn’t, um. That she’s… not mad.”

There is no coming back from this. Again. You’re grasping for either reassurance Sebastian’s mouth does that trapdoor thing again. You contemplate dropping all your seeds and running. Maybe the birds will like them.

“No. You just left me on my porch.” And he’s upset. At least a little bit. It shows in the incredulous tone of his voice and the way his lips stay parted in disbelief. You did, unfortunately, leave him on that porch that night. He’s not… wrong about that. “And then avoided me for a week. You didn't even come into town at all. Abigail and Sam told me they never saw you. Did you never leave your farm just so you wouldn’t see me?” Hurt. He’s hurt, not just upset.

Now you just feel stupid. You didn't even consider the implications of kissing someone and then running away and never seeing them again. In your defense, it wasn’t because of him, more because of his mom and the very likely (read: completely inaccurate) prediction that Robin would beat you up on sight.

“No!” You’re frantic to clear things up, but judging by his doubtful expression you’re going to have to do a lot to reach that goal. “That’s. It wasn’t on purpose. It was embarrassing.” It’s probably still the wrong choice of words. His face flinches and he glances to the side in discomfort. You’re losing him. You’re so, so bad at this. No kidding. That’s why you kissed a guy in front of his mom and almost threw up on his shoes, like, twice. Three times.

Maybe if you put it into perspective. “How would you feel if you kissed someone in their front lawn and then their mom came out and caught you guys kissing and on top of that, what if you were the new person in town and everyone still kind of maybe doesn’t like you completely, and you just ruined your reputation by kissing somebody in front of their parent?” Okay. Effective.

It’s quiet. He’s blinking at you. You get that response a lot whenever you speak to him, really. Maybe that’s a testament to your eloquence. (It’s really not.)

“And,” you keep going, because of course you do, “you never visited me, never sent a letter, nothing. Nobody came to see me. And. I kissed you and then you said nothing and. What was I supposed to do?!”

It’s what you’ve held back for a week now. Really, you weren’t expecting him to show up at your house and confess his undying love for you. A kiss is just a kiss. But if he was going to bring up the whole never-seeing-him-again thing, then you could do that too.

“You.” Trapdoor. He stutters and falters and lets out a sigh that deflates all the tension in his body. “My mom. Wants you to come over for dinner.”

Okay. Well. What the fuck does that mean.

“I want you to come over for dinner,” he clarifies. The furrow in his brow is one of certainty instead of confusion. His eyes meet yours, and stay locked for as long as his inner anxieties allow before he’s looking to the side and avoiding your wide-eyed stare.

Oh. Okay. That’s what. He means.

“Well,” you say out loud, because you’re an idiot and can’t ever control the words that spill out of your mouth. “Then. I would really love having dinner with you.” It’s supposed to come out determined, assured, maybe even a little flirty. Instead, it comes out awkwardly and stilted and you think you might be making a weird face at him on accident. The message clearly gets across, though, because the subtle tension in his face dissipates and he’s starting to smile at you. His stupid, awkward, tucked-in smile. You will yourself to not kiss him in the middle of the town square.

He mumbles a hazy “yeah,” and for a moment you think he sounds almost… dreamy. Lovestruck, maybe. Of course he’s not, because he’s Sebastian and you’re the farmer (th farmer that kissed him, and he kissed back, and now he’s inviting to his house for dinner, but. Well. That’s besides the point). It’s wishful thinking, but you still can’t help the way your eyes trail across his face and down and along the seam of his lips and. There’s the craving to kiss him, reignited, stirring deep in your chest and stomach and in the twitch of your fingertips.

“I guess that means we have to make plans for it,” and there’s some odd deeper meaning in his words, and his eyes are flitting to the side before coming back to you again. His lips twitch in something close to mischief, but not quite. “I guess that I should come over. To talk about plans.”

You’re smiling. You try to resist it, scared you’ll look stupid with how wide you’re grinning but you can’t help it and now you’re smiling with teeth and pressing a giggle back down your throat before you start shrieking in joy. “I think you should. I think I should walk you to my house and talk about. Dinner plans. Totally dinner plans.” Sebastian’s eyes flit to your lips for a moment, a devastating, knee-weakening palm-dampening bone-rattling moment. You’re very certain that you didn't imagine it in some infatuated haze. The corners of his lips tuck into that smile you love so much, too much, and he lets out a breathy sort of laugh. “Dinner plans.”

You walk him home—to your home, this time. There’s seeds in your right hand and the two ears of corn in his left, and your proximity as you walk makes it so that your hands brush together slightly with every step you take. His hands are dry from the cold. You don’t tell him that.

And you two don’t hold hands on the way home, because that would be silly. Because you’re just walking him to your house, to talk about dinner plans. There’s a bubble of unspoken things around the both of you, but there’s something between the looks you share with each other that makes you stop caring so much about saying things. You’re not very good at that, anyways.

You show him your favorite duck in your coop, the one you want Robin to upgrade, and then your cool cheese press machine that accounts for half the money you earn from your farm. He’s finally introduced to Kitty, who yowls at him once before padding up to him and biting his calf. You tell him it’s her love language.

And you talk about dinner plans. Or. Well. Who are you kidding. You kiss him silly. Silly and stupid in your kitchen, tugging on the sleeves and cuffs of his hoodie and then the hairs at the nape of his neck and then his fingers, trailing your own against his palm in circles and spirals and heart shapes that you’re almost embarrassed to be making. Almost. But not really.

You don’t really have the time or mind to be embarrassed, really. Not when you’re dizzy and warm and giggling into the lips of the pretty boy you’re in love with. And, not when you’re busy making dinner plans, of course.

#stardew valley x reader #sebastian x reader #sdv x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #sebastian sdv x reader #sebastian stardew valley x reader #sebastian sdv #stardew valley x farmer #sebastian x farmer #sebastian sdv x farmer #stardew valley fanfic #sebastian fanfic #sebastian sdv fanfic #I DID IT GOOD LORD #ill write a makeout scene to make up for this #maybe #...hopefully

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training4theapocalypse · 3 months

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PLEASE do what Scots actually say I’m so curious

Soap x Reader Scottish Dialogue Inspo

To celebrate Burns Night, here are some realistic smutty Scottish terms and some general stuff to do with relationships. Feel free to use this if you find it helpful 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Disclaimer: my tiny country is made up of countless accents and Soap is canonically from Kilmarnock but his voice actor is from Elgin so who TF knows what he’d actually say.

I also don’t think you need to write in Scots either - I’m Scottish and I don’t (unless am absolutely ragin aboot somethin’) but I can see why you’d want to for Soap’s dialogue.

Behave yersel’

This is easy - it’s just ‘behave yourself’ but it can be used as a smutty admonishment.

“I’ll sleep on the couch - you take the bed.”

“Behave yersel’,” says Soap, unfastening his belt.

Bonny / Bonnie

Spell it whichever way you like. This is primarily an adjective but I see it used as a noun in fic. All. The. Time. It was used a long time ago as a noun - and maybe it still is further north - but where I / Soap are from it's really only used as an adjective these days.

“What do you think of the new recruit, Captain?”

“Aye, she’s bonny, awryt.”

But use this sparingly - and only to describe a person as a whole and not individual body parts. (e.g. you wouldn’t say “Your tits are so bonny.”)

Darlin’ / Doll

The two most common pet names I hear from men here. It is ROUGH as anything and makes me melt. Ughhhh. 🥵

“D’ye like whit ye see, doll?”

Fuckin’ hell

An exclamation that’s pretty ubiquitous across the UK. Soap would 100% say this after sex or if he was surprised by something that made him horny. From clips of Soap I’ve seen I know he says “Steamin’ hell” too but I’ve never heard this IRL.

You sit in Soap’s office, perched on his desk wearing your new lingerie.

He opens the door and freezes, jaw on the floor.

“… Fuckin’ hell.”

Gads

This is a very specific Kilmarnock / Ayrshire thing (which is where Soap’s file says he’s from). And it comes from a very old-timey phrase ‘egads!’ which is hilarious to me.

Gads can be used as an exclamation for something shocking (OR something cringe depending on the context).

“You honestly think that I snuck into your room because my bed was uncomfortable? I want you to fuck me, Soap.”

He swallows. “... Gads.”

Gantin’ for it

AKA Gagging for it. Juvenile way to describe being horny. Soap would probably say this about himself in a jokey way.

“You alright, Soap?”

“Aye, aye. I’ve just been gantin’ for it ever since that new lassie joined.”

Lassie / Lass

Girl. Younger. (Pop off age difference fics)

Missus

Literally “Mrs” but surprisingly not just used to refer to your wife. Really commonly used to refer to a girlfriend.

“Look, whatever the missus wants she gets. Awryt?”

Wee (insert expletive)

Literally call me whatever you want as long as you put ‘wee’ in front of it. Wee bitch, wee slag, wee slut (omggggggg).

Soap tuts, as you writhe against his thigh. “Yer an impatient wee thing, aren’t ye?”

Anyway, that's all I've got for now- if I think of any more, I'll add to this. You don't need to credit me if you actually use this - I like to think of it as service to my country 🫡

P.S. This made me realise I've only ever had sex with Scottish people so maybe some of this is just normal sex stuff and not Scotland specific???? HAHAHAHA

P.P.S. I was getting really into the dialogue so I've written a short fic about Reader x Soap.

#scotland forever #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #task force 141 #smut #soap cod #soap mw2 #john mactavish x reader #burns night #cod fic #cod mw2

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untitledmemes · 3 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Prompts

Part I An assortment of prompts taken from the series Hazbin Hotel on Amazon Prime. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. In case of Multimuse, don't forget to specify which one/s. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ Oh, shit. Did you hear all of that? ”

“ I enjoy your theatrics. ”

“ I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work. ”

“ Well hello there, you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? ”

“ Your last attempt at salvation starts here. ”

“ Thank you so much for making this. Seriously. Amazing. ”

“ Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it? ”

“ Sex sells, don't it? ”

“ I really don't want to exploit you in that way. ”

“ This body was made to be exploited. ”

“ I could keep goin' all night, baby. ”

“ Why do you think I'm here? ”

“ I like being forced. ”

“ I'm choosing to be here, and I think it's all stupid. ”

“ That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it? ”

“ Just because nobody made it out before, doesn't mean it's not possible. ”

“ There's just no way I could blow it, not this once in a lifetime chance. ”

“ It's a happy day in hell. ”

“ Ha! I fucking got you!. ”

“ So, I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. ”

“ I need you to be less horny, if possible. ”

“ I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit! ”

“ So, anyway, we fucked and it was awesome. ”

“ Fucking love putting my name on shit. Shit's the best. ”

“ Alright, um, maybe we can try and fix it in post. ”

“ Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm? ”

“ I wouldn't try that, my dear. ”

“ I don't care who or what you are. If you're staying here, you are going to make this work. ”

“ Awesome job, danger tits. Pound it. ”

“ Those are my people. You know that, right? ”

“ They had their chance and they earned damnation. ”

“ How does that feel? To know how little you matter. ”

“ Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time. ”

“ Did I hear you imply they don't deserve death? ”

“ It means we're all royally fucked. ”

“ We should just go down there now and destroy them. ”

“ Oh please, you had less than half a chance when you started all this. ”

“ Well, it's not like people are going to show up at our doorstep. ”

“ Now that's good television. ”

“ Whatever could be the problem, my dear? ”

“ Fuck my life. ”

“ I have a fire to put out upstairs. ”

“ Well, looks like you have everything under control here. ”

“ Take care of the piss baby. ”

“ That fucking slut walked out on me. ME. I fucking made him! ”

“ Which of these makes me look sexier? ”

“ What are you doing? You're not going over there. ”

“ Now that's why they pay you the big bucks. ”

“ I think he's had enough. ”

“ Thank you... For letting your guard down! ”

“ Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. ”

“ That fucker is back! ”

“ You still pissed he almost beat you that time? ”

“ Things changed a lot since he left town. ”

“ Welcome home. I'm gonna make you wish that you stayed gone. ”

“ Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? ”

“ Where's he been? Who gives a shit? ”

“ You old timey prick, I'll show you suffering. ”

“ I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone. ”

“ How exactly are we supposed to stop it? ”

“ Who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting? ”

“ I didn't come looking for a fight. ”

“ Aren't you supposed to protect this place? ”

“ I give you a week. Tops. ”

“ It's nice to have someone interested for once. ”

“ Never leave me again. ”

“ I definitely remember you now. ”

�� It's great, right? Keep going. ”

“ The only cool thing has is to say no to drugs. ”

“ I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage! ”

“ You like me. You really like me! ”

“ You actually think you can change? ”

“ You slippery little shit! ”

“ I fucking knew there was something shitty about you. ”

“ Get your aggressively average body off of me! ”

“ This little bitch is a traitor! ”

“ Wait, you were caught? It hasn't even been a day! ”

“ The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts, but sorry is where it starts. ”

“ Why are you so lame? ”

“ You'll have to try better than that next time, ol' pal. ”

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artistmarchalius · 10 months

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British Terms of Endearment ❤️🤍💙

Here’s another one for all the Spider-Verse and Hobie fanfic writers!

Terms of endearment are handed out fairly liberally in the UK and aren’t restricted to people you actually love. You can hear them from all sorts of people, from your very best friend to the person delivering the post. There’s a lot of words to use to be friendly or show someone you care for them.

So here’s an assortment of British terms of endearment! Let’s get started:

Terms of endearment:

Love/Luv - It’s fairly common to use this term of endearment with strangers, it’s not strictly reserved for loved ones. An employee at the garage might ask you “What tires do you need, luv?” or the person working the checkout might say “That’ll be £23.95, love.”

Because of how common it is in everyday conversation, it’s easy to keep using it with the people you do love.

E.g. “Anything for you, love.” Or “Hey there, luv. How was your day?”

Lovely - Used similarly to “Love/Luv”. It’s very common to put “my” in front of it.

E.g. “You alright, my lovely?”

Duck/Ducky - this term is used more commonly around the Midlands of England. I’m adding this to the list because I love it. It’s common to put “me” in front of “duck”.

E.g. “Ducky, come look at this!” Or “Alright there, me duck?” Or “I’ll get that for you, duck.”

Pet - this term is more common around the North East of England. Using this term doesn’t mean you think of the recipient as a pet, it’s just cutesy.

E.g. “That’s okay, pet.”

Sunshine - although it is an affectionate word, I’ve personally seen it used more sarcastically or threateningly. Imagine, you’re watching TV and an East End gangster has come to intimidate someone who grassed them up. It’s dark, they walk menacingly through the door and greet them in a low, gravelly voice: “Hello sunshine.”

It is still used affectionately though. E.g. “Nice to see you, sunshine!”

Treacle - from the Cockney rhyming slang “treacle tart” meaning sweetheart.

E.g. “You alright there, treacle?”

Sweetheart - for those that don’t want to use/don’t know about “treacle”.

E.g. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Princess/beautiful/treasure - these are some East End/Cockeny terms of endearment used typically by the working class and usually towards women. It can feel a bit condescending to be called this, but it’s meant in an inoffensive, friendly way.

E.g. “Thanks for the help, princess!” Or “Nice chatting with you, treasure!”

Dear - Used more by older people. This is another term you might hear from a stranger, especially an older one. Younger people tend to use it more when they want to sound a bit more old timey or posh, often in a comical way. E.g. “Yes, dear.”

It’s more common to hear it used in regards to saying that someone “is a dear”, either in response to being kind or asking them to do something kind. E.g. “You’re such a dear!” Or “Would you be a dear and fetch me my slippers?”

Darling - This is more of an upper class term of endearment, however it can also be abbreviated to “darlin’”, which you might hear more often, especially if you’ve ever been in a London taxi. Like “lovely”, it’s common to put a “my” in front of it.

E.g. “Darling, I read the most ghastly thing in the newspaper this morning.” Or “Alright then, my darlin’, where are we off to?”

Baby/Babe - these are used commonly around the world and we use them here too! In Essex (just east of London) you’ll more commonly hear the other alternative “Babes”. This would be in reference to one person rather than being a pluralisation of “Babe”.

E.g. “Love ya, babes!”

Poppet - often used in reference to a young child or a girl. Can also be in reference to someone sweet.

E.g. “Here you go, poppet.” Or “Don’t fret, poppet, it’ll be alright.”

Mate - interchangeable with “friend”. You can use the term with strangers and friends alike.

E.g. “You doin’ okay, mate?” Or “Shove off, mate!”

Insults: as it most likely is in many parts of the world, it is quite common to jokingly use insults as terms of endearment. I’m talking swear words, creative insults and normal/silly words used in the tone of rude words (an example for the last one: “Stop throwing socks at me, you gammy sausage!” Or “Leave it out, you splunky wimble!” used affectionately. Although you can preface with a swear to make it more spicy). This is probably really obvious but I still wanted to point it out since a lot of the other items on this list can be used with strangers, but this is only done with people you’re close with. I shan’t write any of the rude words here, I aim to be family friendly, but if anyone wants to double check if an insult can be used affectionately or if you want to create a British sounding non-rude/normal word/silly word insult but you don’t know how, don’t be shy, you can send me an ask or a message! I’m happy to proofread!

Words relating to love/romance/feeling amorous:

Fancy - to have a crush or to like someone.

E.g. “I fancy him!” Or “She fancies Justine’s older sister.”

Chat up - to flirt.

E.g. “He was chatting up some girl at the bar.”

Fit - attractive.

E.g. “She’s well fit!”

Peng - attractive/appealing. It’s more frequently applied to people but things like food or clothes can be peng too.

E.g. “He’s well peng!” Or “Those shoes are peng!”

Lush - attractive.

E.g. “He’s so lush!”

Bang tidy - someone who is extremely attractive/sexy. It can also be used to describe something that is of very good quality or beauty.

E.g. “She’s bang tidy!”

So there we go, an assortment of terms of endearment used in Britain! I’ve primarily stuck with terms used in and around London, the South and the South East of England since that’s the area that Hobie would probably be most familiar with. A lot of these terms are also used in America and other parts of the world, so if you’ve seen something here that you already use (and aren’t a member of the UK) then just use this as confirmation that we use the word here too. I’m not trying to say that these words are UK exclusives.

I also want to point out that when you or someone you don’t know uses overly familiar language, it can sometimes feel condescending or uncomfortable. Just because it’s common here, doesn’t always mean it’s appreciated. I don’t want to give the impression that every Brit says they love each other and every other Brit is happy to hear about it. Everyone has their own preferences.

I hope you have found this helpful or at the very least somewhat entertaining. Once again, I’m not an expert, I just want to share the information I have in the hopes that it will help or entertain someone. If you want more British slang info, check out my Cockney rhyming slang post here and my British police slang post here! Let me know if there are other areas of British slang you’d like to hear about!

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hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog · 2 months

Note

More DomesticatedStaticradio fluff:

-When Charlie was a child, she was often dressed by Vix and Alastor lile those old timey wimey lolita gowns style thing from the 20's-40's complete with bonnet and ribbons. As she grew older she began to mimic her daddy and papa's clothing, Vox one day notices how Charlie didn't seem more incline to wear dresses and a teacher (bitch) once complain how Charlie doesn't like to wear the "proper girl" clothing.

Result? A teacher was served as dinner for Alastor and both daddies spoil their little girl with more clothing of her choices so long as it does not harm her nor humiliate her. Her happiness is all that matters.

-Alastor said j'etaime to Vox for the first time, Vox short circuited and went into Voxtech with a big goofy smile, gave several interns a heart attack at how sappy the boss is.

-Vox once gave Alastor a room filled with vintage records he (aka his poor henchmen) dug up or made (or even threaten old dead 1870-1920's hollywood celebrities in Pentagram city to rerecord). Alastor was so happy he actually broke character and literally cried. Vox (the idiot) panicked thinking he made his Alastor sad.

-Velvette thinks the two are saps. Carmilla thinks they should get a room-- nvm she does not want to risk a "second" child made from their current. In Carmilla's pov it was a godsend miracle Charlie (hahahahaha) came out of them as a normal sweet little girl.

-Vark and Charlie slept together one time in Vark's bed. Let us just say you can see a HUGE wallpaper of the two in a certain computer in Voxtech and a huge photograph frame in gold and hang proudly in the Radiotower.

-Husk when meeting baby Charlie: How did you two make this little girl?

Alastor:... electrical current.

Vox: (I thought we finally agree on Vark getting her...!)

Husk stared at Charlie:...*smiles* You're not too bad kid.

Charlie: o7o

Vox forcing old singers to re-record their music so Alastor could listen to it again makes me want to bite something, that's so goddamn sweet

My soul feels healed

#ask #domestic au #staticradio #radiostatic #staticlovetune

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plleeeepppyyyy · 1 year

Note

I have a request if you’re doing any!!

Wally Darling x Rockstar Reader

I don’t care what you do with this but I hope you enjoy it!!

Reader is the singer and dancer of the neighborhood! Very happy go lucky, loving, and even a little clumsy. Yet always calm during making music

Which I can picture reader being a great muse. And reader singing a lot to Wally.

this was def fun to write!! all the ideas and cutesy stuff came to me in a flash ngl.. (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

really cute request!! you guys are so creative with these,,,(•̀ᴗ•́)و

wally + singer/rock star reader!

♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪

♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫

••••••••••••••

•this man,,, god,, this man.

•he’s literally ur number one fan girl. he’s there for every performance, writings, everything. you name it he’s there!

•wally just loves watching you in the process of making music, its like an art! to him, it’s wonderful of how passionate you are about it. he adores watching you almost trip on a cord as you just jam out,, doesn’t matter how clumsy you are,, you’re just elegant to him. seeing you so peaceful as you strum on a guitar or something.. 🫶 (if he had a camera he would take a pic of you 200x)

•literally every-time you come up to him with ur newest draft of a song, he gets so excited!! that inner fangirl comes out.,, wally is pretty honest when it comes to stuff. but he just can’t help himself, every song, draft, album,, literally all perfection to him. you cannot do no wrong with that. he buys all of your stuff if you ever sell it. (prolly got a shrine.)

•if you ever write a song based on him,, he would actually cry out of happiness, at least be on the verge of it. you just give the song to him and he’s just like, “it’s so perfect,,,, tysm,,” while he’s on the verge of letting it out. he’ll listen to it every day. :) <3

•bonus points if you write it for your guys’ one year anniversary! that man will be so happy,, he probably would let a few tears out too..,,. like you used your creativeness on little old him?!(!(ಡ‸ಡ) wally would cherish the hell out of that song, he can just mumble out a praise as he’s about to ugly cry. like.. THANK YOU?!(!? (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

•he’ll just grab a hold of you and not let go,, it just makes him feel so happy. he’ll probably cry into ur shirt tho,,

•if you ever had some albums posted out or whatnot, he will put them on his wall. wally would prolly accidentally buy out the whole thing,, like cmon, he’s has to use some of them for display and hearing!! ( ˘ ³˘)

•ur his main inspiration for his art too,, seeing you so into doing what u do, gibes him strength. he will ABSOLUTELY paint tf outta you! literally you guys would be in the same room while he sketches and you just strum your guitar or smth, ack he’s a sucker for moments like those. ur for sure his muse. got ten whole folders of drawings and projects that are meant for you.

•he might even call you his muse tooo! :)

•he asked you once what type of music you were doing and you prolly replied with a random genre he’s never heard up,, and he’d just be like. “ah, that’s wonderful.. can’t wait to hear it.”

•he do NOT give a care,, any genre in his eyes and ears it’s perfection. like said before, you do wrong.

•if ur the type to do sad songs, he’s a little worried. like bby what’s got you so sad? :(

•sometimes (if you offer) he also does stuff with you. to him he thinks he’s better at playing instruments, which is lie he’s hella good at singing.

•he’ll give you ideas, suggestions; whatever you need!

•i literally will say it here, ya’ll do duets with each other. especially with old timey love songs, it’s just cute,,, a bit sappy. but who cares, I IMAGINE you two just singing together. (bonus points if he’s playing a piano,, well trying to,, he needs some practice..)

•every time you put on a performance,, he just sits there with the dopiest smile on with lovestruck written all over him. bro is VERY in love, he could listen to you alll day. if he had a tail it would be wagging. he will never take his eyes off either, all of his attention is on you, just you.

•even if you got a recording studio, he admires how much you get into the music. its so amusing seeing you be so calm during the whole process of making a song, but when you perform your songs. like thats my baby fr!!! wally is ur number one hype man,, i mean this all the way.

(i feel like hes such a sucker for singers,,)

•if ur in a nice suit, dress; whatever while ur singing, agh.. this man is knocked out. ur soo gorgeous,, and you sing?! like, sorry, wally is just in love.

•after one of your performances, once he sees you walking to him, all giddy and stuff. wally ain’t letting you go once you run into his arms, he will keep his arms around you as you just ask if he liked it, thought it was great,, while he’s just nodding and mumbling praises to you. (it’s honestly so sweet to watch you two.) if ur wearing heels or boots, you’re probably towering over him as this happens,, (i honestly find this so sweet, ur jus towering over him, asking him excitedly if he loved it, while he’s just practically sings praises to you. so sweet,,)

•to pick up the instrument part, he will totally help you with demos and drafts by playing the music for you. he’s pretty average on most instruments and would totally drop whatever he had and help you out! (will def help you out with drums, i think its canon that its his main thing,,)

•sing him to sleep, please,, he will eat that up. if you do, he’ll sleep so fast. as said before by me, i don’t think he sleeps much. but with ur singing? knocked out, my brother is dead asleep. what can he say? you’re just a good singer.

•honestly to him, ur like a siren. you’re just too good to be true and sing beautifully. corny he knows but,,, its true <3 (to him.)

•even house loves your singing! if wally needed the help he would call you and try to make house stop with ur singing,,

•the first time he’s ever heard you sing, his mind was blown. how did you sing that good? like all of his other friends could sing,, but you were just different. you sounded different, did things differently.. ack. he fell in love with your voice. as he listened to one of ur song’s for the first time, and ur just anxious. wondering if he’ll like it, or not.. he turns to you. blank stare, and says, “this is the best music i’ve ever heard,, ur so talented..” with just pure adoration and fondness in his eyes.

•which got you SO HAPPY, he loved your songs!!!! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

•sometimes if he feels a bit snarky that day, he’ll brag a bit. just all like, “my s/o is a beautiful singer,, can YOU sing that good? they’re so amazing at what they do, no one can compare…” wally is sometimes a bit of a prick (╥_╥)

•never a prick to you tho, said it before i’ll say it again, to him you do no wrong, see no wrong, hear no wrong, speak no wrong. 🫶

•he makes sure you know that you’ll always be in his corner, all of the time, being ur numba one fangirl! (✯◡✯)

•wally definitely tried making a song for you too,, didn’t go right tho. (٥⁀▽⁀ )

(seriously this dude is crazed over you.)

•you always make sure he’s the first one to hear your songs, after writing a draft you sprint to him and show him it. it makes him so excited too, cause like.. how did he get so lucky that he’s the first person to look and hear your talent?

•this dude just adores you, so much.. like what’s not to love? to him you’re just the peak definition of passion, he enjoys watching you have fun and play music. wally is sorta taking this into seriousness,, but he can’t help it!! he can’t get over how he bagged you, this person who’s a whole peak of inspiration for him. ❤︎︎

•he just loves to support and cherish you, i won’t lie but he’s basically a lovestruck puppy who watches you and everything you do. everyone in the neighborhood can tell.. (¯ ³¯)♡

__________

ACK,, okay i got a bit carried away on some points, but they were jus too cute to not put in.

BUT 1000 NOTES ON EACH OF MY FICSSs?!?! thats insane, thank you guys sm!! (╥_╥) i didn’t think i would get that much positive feedback for these, im rlly glad you guys are liking these!

hope you enjoyed reading this one! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

#wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home #welcome home arg #this request got me alll sappy(٥⁀▽⁀ )

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agustdiv1ne · 8 months

Note

cograts on 3k!!! can i request taehyun + the proposal + smut but taehyun is the boss and reader is the secretary? love u <3

NOW SHOWING...

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 3.9k

details + warnings: mdni, boss!taehyun, secretary!mc, hatefucking (or, more accurately, mildly annoyed with each other fucking), power imbalance, dom!tae, (kinda bratty) sub!mc, unprotected sex (do nawt do this), missionary, doggy, pull out method, very brief degradation (slut is used once), all they do is bicker lmfao

note: tyty nonnie!! ♡ hope you enjoyyy

your boss is — and you cannot stress this enough — a complete and utter hardass.

he demands way too much from you, he rapidly fires back-to-back orders and expects you to remember every minute detail, and sometimes, he even makes you drop everything to work on the weekend. the weekend. unfortunately, you are forced to grin and bear it. while your parents have urged you to quit every time you call them, and you've definitely considered it, working for taehyun is the only way that you will ever have a shot at becoming an editor, to bring light to stories that can touch others' hearts. there's nothing more that you wish to do than give small-time authors a chance to get their work out there — and even get your own novel in stores. you know how difficult getting a foot into the publishing world can be, but you also know that you won't be able to help them, or yourself, if you don't put yourself through hell first. hell being taehyun's wrath, of course.

even worse: you've now been roped into marrying this man. with new york city's immigration office on his ass, you are the poor soul he decided to use to keep himself in the country and save his job. the gross reality of it all is that if taehyun is fired, you wouldn't last another day at the company, and all of your painstaking work would be for naught. you honestly had no choice but to go with it.

you first thought that the universe held some sort of gargantuan grudge against you…because the two of you were suddenly slated to visit your little hometown after lying straight to an immigration officer's face (who definitely did not believe a word that either of you said) for your grandmother's ninetieth birthday. since you have arrived in the small town, you've been sharing a bed with him because he refuses to sleep on the floor, separated by a wall of pillows each night; you've been forced to act affectionate with each other in order to appease your overbearing family.

however, you're also beginning to think that taehyun might not be all that terrible. outside of work, at least. sure, you bicker and you argue and your attempts at pda are painfully awkward at best, but he's shown you a different side of him over these past couple of days. he is still the harsh boss that you know intimately well, but he actually has a personality under that work persona. he's sung old-timey songs for your elder family members, opened up to you on your family's boat about his issues with vulnerability, and the wall of pillows on the bed has slowly diminished to nothing. above all, you've had more heart-to-heart conversations than what you initially thought he had the emotional capacity for.

but that doesn't mean he still isn't a bit of a dick.

“move over,” he grumbles next to you as both of you try to get some sleep, grumpy after another long day and a very embarrassing encounter with your grandmother. the memory of you doubled over, nearly crying with laughter, because of him stings like a fresh wound. annoyance surges through his veins, and your thin pajamas — on top of the warmth of your bare skin radiating against his — certainly are not helping his conflicted mind.

“sleep on the floor if you’re going to complain,” you retort, unmoving as you stare up at the ceiling. the moonlight streaming through the windows reflects across the wood panels, shifting with the movement of the thin curtains that hang in front of the glass. it’s soothing, but it seems as if nothing is enough to get you to doze off tonight, even the melatonin that you downed an hour ago. the lack of space between the two of you is a new development, and you cannot deny the nervous pang that resounds in your chest because of it. something feels off tonight, but you can’t quite put a finger on it.

his elbow sharply shoves in your bicep, pain blooming across your skin as the bone further digs itself into your arm. hissing in pain, you jostle him back, thus starting a petty war of who can gain the most space on the bed. after a couple minutes of exchanging elbows and small curses, your arm growing sore, annoyance finally bubbles over. your scattered brain proves useless in this situation, and while you’d usually rather exchange rude words until one of you concedes, you instead find yourself sitting up to straddle his hips, hands wrapping around his forearms and pinning them to the mattress. his lips part slightly as he stares up at you — a shocking crack in his typical stoic mask — while you shoot daggers down at him, your manicured nails biting into his wrists.

“quit it,” you hiss. “i’m not in the mood for your shit tonight.”

the curse word slips out before you can stop it, but at this point, you don’t particularly care. he’s being an annoying prick and all you want is for this godforsaken trip to be over already and for you to get fucking married. the quicker you are, the quicker you can get divorced and return back to your regularly programmed boss-assistant relationship and cut the odd tension that has built up between the two of you over this trip.

below you, taehyun mirrors your venomous expression, his bare chest flexing as he breaks away from your grip with ease. his hips shift up beneath you, and your balance unexpectedly shifts. in a split second, you’ve switched positions with him now leering down at you. your legs are now wrapped around his hips, hands now pinned to the bed by his. he’s so close that you can feel his breaths against your cheek. that weird feeling in your stomach is back; you can’t help but flit your gaze down to his lips for a moment, licking your own subconsciously. you want — no, you need to kiss him, the phantom feeling of his lips on yours from the day prior taunting you.

mentally, you slap yourself out of it. where the hell did that come from? he’s your boss. your terrible, perfectionist boss that you never catch a break from, your boss that constantly makes you want to quit your position and give up on your dreams. you shouldn’t be thinking of him like that. you can’t. looking back up at him, you find dark, narrowed eyes staring right back at you. the slight furrow of his brow tells you that he’s thinking — this is one of his most common expressions, you’ve gathered from your grueling time working for him, right after his stony, laser-like stare that is a constant in the office. it’s also the most worrisome.

wiggling, your fiery attempt to get him off of you is swiftly extinguished as he tightens his grip on you. you are not lost on the tick in his jaw, the way his muscles flex beneath his skin. with a gulp, you urge yourself to calm down. he’s your boss. your fucking boss.

with a hiss, he grits out, “stop moving. fuck.”

his words lead you to notice something hard pressing into the crease of your thigh — his dick. holy shit, taehyun’s dick is rock solid against you, and you’ve barely even done anything. every nerve ending in your body feels like it’s on fire right now, the air surrounding your bodies electric and—

he’s kissing you.

he’s kissing you and it’s messy and mean and there’s absolutely nothing romantic about it — and worst of all, you actually like it. lips mold together and teeth knock against each other, his hands releasing your arms to find purchase on your hips as he helps you grind against him. with a small whimper, you bite down on his bottom lip, causing him to groan in response. this is weird. this is so unbelievably weird, yet you can’t seem to stop yourself.

he pulls away first, his warm breath brushing against your lips while both of you pant against each other. you can’t help but stare at the way his lips are red and swollen, slick with saliva and wetted further by a quick swipe of his tongue.

without speaking, he swoops back down to capture your lips again. your stomach clenches as his hands slip beneath your thin camisole, the fabric bunching up as they slide up the expanse of your stomach and up to your breasts. he greedily gropes the flesh as he deepens the kiss, while you reach down to cup him over his boxers. he’s heavy in your hand, and you can tell just how thick he is even with the fabric in the way. your walls flutter around nothing as the thought of him stretching you to your limit invades your mind, your panties sticking to your folds.

“you drive me insane,” taehyun grumbles as he works on nipping and sucking on the skin of your neck, thumbs now circling your pebbled nipples. you arch into his touch, unable to hold in your gasps.

“yeah, well, welcome to my world,” you mutter, squealing as he delivers a particularly cruel pinch to one of your tits. curling your fingers into his hair, you tug hard enough to hurt, and he hisses at the sting, sitting back up so that he’s leaning over you once more. one of his hands leaves your breasts to find purchase around your throat; you’re sure that he can feel the way you gulp beneath his hand — he does, and fuck, does that make his cock twitch.

with a scoff, he shifts hips forward with more force, pressing himself directly into your center. the grip around your throat tightens slightly — he revels in the way your eyelids flutter and your gaze grows a little hazy as you stare up at him. you’re an absolute vision like this, and he thinks that maybe…no, he doesn’t. what a silly idea, that couldn’t possibly be true.

his attention is pulled back to the present as you meet his hips with your own. your teeth digging into your bottom lip makes him want to bite it for you. god, stop. he hates himself a little for how he feels, but you’re just too tempting right now — and you? you seem just as willing.

to hell with it, he thinks.

“beg,” he orders. there is no way in hell he’s going to allow you to be snarky to him. he deals with your offhand remarks enough at work, and you’ve been a little too casual with him during this trip, too complacent with your disrespect.

“i will do nothing of the sort,” you hiss despite the burning desire to just submit and let him make you feel good. “j-just because you think you’re all high and mighty doesn’t mean i’ll just bend to your will because you expect me to.”

the way he pauses makes you freeze. the narrowed, cold eyes are back, sending chills down your spine as they look over every crevice of your being: your lust-blown eyes, your heaving chest, how your legs have hooked themselves around his waist to pull him impossibly closer. his gaze finds yours again, and you shrink into yourself a little. the action pulls a smirk from him.

“i know you need this,” he says coolly. “more than me, i’m sure. when do you have time to meet people, hm? i doubt you’ve had anyone in a while.”

oh, fuck him. he has no right to comment on your lack of sex life, not when he’s the one and only reason for your lack of partner and your sore wrist each night. not when he has little regard for your free time when your off the clock. you do everything for him, and yet all you get is a measly little paycheck and not one ounce of gratitude in return.

“that’s because of you,” you fire back, blood boiling. “you work me like a dog! i’m always at your beck and call— how do you expect to find someone to screw when my entire life revolves around you and your needs? ”

he shrugs as if none of that matters. “well, now i’m giving you an opportunity to get fucked,” he remarks, essentially ignoring your entire point. the cocky, impudent bastard. “take it or leave it. so beg, or i’ll just fuck my fist and you can watch. i don’t particularly care.”

slack-jawed, you gawk at him silently. you’ve never heard him be so vulgar. it’s oddly…hot? stop, no, your brain needs to shut up.

when he begins to move off of you, your legs tighten around his waist. actually, you know what? fuck it. your pride has already been tarnished enough while working for him, why not keep that going? you’re desperate enough, and since he’s talking such a big game, you’re curious to find out if he can back it up.

thus, you give in.

“fine. fuck me,” you whisper viciously.

evidently, this is not satisfactory for taehyun. his mouth forms into a thin line as he sends you an unimpressed frown. “what? i couldn’t hear you.”

when you repeat yourself, louder this time, his head tilts and leans closer to you until you’re basically nose-to-nose. his stupid, infuriating smirk has grown wider. it’s almost as if — no, he definitely enjoys teasing you like this.

“c’mon, you can do better than that,” he mocks while he rocks his hips harder against yours.

while you’d typically throttle a man who patronized you in this way, you are so unbelievably needy at the moment, and his ministrations are definitely not helping your case; so after swallowing what little dignity you have left, you begin to plead, “fuck me, please, need it. use me, ruin me, i-i don’t— i don’t care, just wanna feel good. please, taehyun.”

your cheeks are burning as hot as the sun and shame prickles the back of your neck. you can’t help how you cover your face with your hands as you realize how naked you feel under him, stripped bare by his eyes and his presence despite still being fully clothed. he peels your hands away, pinning them to the mattress just as you did to him minutes earlier.

“wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he leers, shifting his head so that you can’t look away. one of his hands moves to cup your jaw, a thumb brushing lightly against your lips, and you allow it to push into your mouth and press down on your tongue. you suckle on the digit as your mind clouds up. moving your thin pajamas to the side with his other hand, he swipes two fingers through your soaked folds, bringing your slick up to your clit. he barely touches the already sensitive bud, rubbing tiny circles against it. you shift your hips up to gain more stimulation, but he pulls away. tutting, he sighs, “desperate little thing. don’t worry, i’m not feeling very patient right now either.”

within seconds, your bottoms are discarded and you’re spread wide for him, on complete and utter display for him. his boxers are shoved down to reveal his cock, stiff and flushed an angry shade of red. prominent veins meander their way down the shaft, the skin a shade darker than the rest of him — and you were right: he is thick, intimidatingly so.

but you've never been one to back down from a challenge.

as he lines himself up with your awaiting entrance, his thumb slips out of your mouth so that he can find purchase on your waist, the warm tips of his fingers pressing into the soft skin. a stinging sensation floods your senses as he shifts his hips forward, his cock slowly stretching your walls far beyond what they’ve ever been before. shit, he’s huge, your pussy stuffed to the brim with him — it feels like he’s in your stomach, your throat, but he allows you to adjust inch by painstaking inch, something you’re grateful for. not that you’d ever voice that to him.

the sting disappears soon enough, morphing into a dull pleasure that isn’t quite enough to satisfy you. rolling your hips, you feel the head of his cock press into a spot deep inside you that sends jolts of pleasure through your body, yet he halts your motions with a firm grip on your hip bones. outwardly, he seems unaffected by the way your walls flutter around him, warm and wet and christ, overwhelmingly tight — inside, however, he’s on the verge of losing it, trying and failing to resist the urge to pound you into the mattress until you’re crying for him. his first thrust is merciless, pulling out and slamming back in so hard that you nearly see stars. when you keen, he knows you can take anything that he will give you. you always have to put up with his hardass tendencies, after all, his borderline mean and unyielding expectations that you somehow meet and even exceed sometimes. you can take it — you will take it, and well. he expects you to.

and, as he wishes, you do, barely able to keep your moans in check as he pounds into you over and over again, your breathing growing ragged and your hands gripping the sheets so hard that you fear that they may tear. the drag of his cock against your walls renders you light-headed and dizzy beyond belief, your eyebrows furrowed deeply while your bleary eyes screw shut. with he plays with the angle of his hips, trying for the best one, the one that would turn your quiet whimpers to unabashed moans — because he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t want to hear you scream for him, even if it meant waking the rest of your annoying family up. maybe they wouldn’t pester him as easily if he got you to.

shoving your top up above your breasts, he uses one hand to knead one of your tits while he uses the other to halt your squirming. aggravation fills his veins as you continue to wiggle, your hips grinding up to meet his thrusts, greedy for more.

“stay fucking still,” he bites, moving to swing your legs over his shoulders, effectively folding you in half below him. the angle causes your eyes to roll back into your head, your teeth biting your lip so hard that you almost bleed. as his thrusts resume, he brings a thumb down to your clit, and your walls immediately pulse around him. your mouth falls open as you whine, and he nearly cums just from the sight of your playing with your tits, thumbs circle the pebbled flesh. he resists the urge to lean down and suck on them; he needs to keep a clear head, or as clear as it can be in this situation. he needs to maintain his control.

“‘m close, f-fuck, ‘m gonna, gonna cum,” you whisper frantically, now pinching your nipples between your fingers. the sight spurs him to fuck you faster, deeper, hitting spots that your measly fingers never could. your swollen lips part to allow quiet, pathetic whines escape, the buzz in your stomach building and building and building and—

it all stops.

“n-no!” you cry, but taehyun pins your hips down before you are able to chase your now fading pleasure. you despise how easily he can just take from you, even your orgasms he controls. the slight upward curve of his lips makes you want to curse him out.

“you're funny,” he remarks.

“and you’re the worst,” you groan while you lightly slap his chest. catching your wrist, he pins it back to the bed.

“aw, am i now?” he coos, his hips grinding into you again, teasing. it’s not enough, it’s not enough at all.

“mhm, i can’t— ah, c-can’t stand you.”

“o-oh, you c-can’t?” he taunts, his mouth formed into a condescending little pout. “yet you’re letting me do this—” he punctuates the word with a particularly hard thrust out of nowhere, causing you to cry out and your nails to claw at his shoulders. “—to you. i can’t be that bad.”

“you are,” you pant as his cock begins to drag along your walls again. “fucking— you are that bad, i— nonono, please keep going. please!"

taehyun does not heed your cries. rather, he pulls out completely, much to your contempt. whiplash becomes your new best friend as he flips you over onto your stomach, spine arched prettily behind you by the hands pulling your hips up. the sheets brush against your swollen nipples, the pillow below your head cushioning your head from the somewhat stiff mattress. you are rendered unable to push yourself up and out of this position when taehyun gathers your wrists in one hand and pins them behind you, yet you can’t bring yourself to even want to try, not when he slips his cock back inside you and resumes his previous swift pace. the angle has changed, and he presses perfectly into your g-spot now — your brain is completely empty, only able to process how amazing he’s making you feel. your moans grow louder and louder as your orgasm quickly builds up again. a hand curls into your hair and yanks, shoving your face into the pillow.

“be a good little slut and shut up,” taehyun grunts out from behind you. he’s changed his mind: he doesn’t want anyone else hearing you. no, your pretty little noises should be reserved for him and him only, and he’s more than satisfied with the muffled sounds coming from you as he fucks you into the mattress. he feels your legs begin to give out from below you, but he takes it in stride, shifting his body so that he leans over your back, your legs spread out on both sides of his hips. he quietly admonishes you for enjoying this so much, no matter how hypocritical it is, only if to feel you clench around him and bring him closer to his release.

your squeals are muffled as you finally, finally come undone, the knot in your stomach snapping and causing your entire body to quake. your walls quiver around his cock, and before he can spill inside you, he pulls out and jerks himself off, hand rapidly sliding up and down until he spills all over his hand with a shudder.

there’s no aftercare, no conversation, just ragged pants as both of you try to catch your breath again. taehyun essentially passes out as soon as he collapses next to you. you’re not sure what you would have said in this situation, so you are a bit grateful for his sleeping form.

as you listen to his slow, rhythmic breathing, the gravity of what you've just done hits you square in the chest. your lungs feel as if they’ve been pumped with lead, your muscles tense and your mind reeling — shit. holy shit. you just fucked your boss — your boss that you will soon be married to and divorced from — and now? now, you have no idea how all of this is going to pan out.

and no matter how your mind tries to spin it, there’s no way out of this one.

3k event masterlist | masterlist

#txt smut #taehyun smut #txt x reader #taehyun x reader #txt imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt scenarios #taehyun imagines #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #taehyun hard thoughts #txt drabbles #taehyun drabble #3k milestone celebration #💌 — tyun #agust.nsfw

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