Not me and my inability to stop smiling while reading this 🧍♂️
Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)
A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.
*****
“Can you stop moving, please?”
Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed.
When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep.
You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday.
“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.
Nope, can’t do it. You shift again.
“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”
With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.
He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.
“I swear if you say-”
“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation.
“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”
“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer.
“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm.
“...If you could?”
“Seriously, fuck you.”
Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?
“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.”
Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away.
In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad.
With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist.
You slept like a lamb after that.
*****
When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other.
Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.
“The fuck is this?”
You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter.
“A solution?” You shrug.
“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”
“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.
“You’re a fucking menace.”
The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.
Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.
Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm.
“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head.
You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-
“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.
When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.
“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.
“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender.
“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede
“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”
He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.
It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back.
“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.
Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:
“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”
Free Palestine
To whom it may concern,
I am Shahad Dahlan, and my husband is Hassan Al-Badrsawi. We are going through a very difficult time after the war destroyed everything in our lives. We lost our home, which we built with our own hands, and lived in tents for long periods. We have been bombed, and now we are left with nothing but painful memories. Our dream now is survival and finding a new hope in Egypt, where we hope to find a safe place to start over.
We are in urgent need of your support. Any donation, no matter how small, will mean a lot to us and will help us rebuild our lives away from the pain. You are our hope after God, and with your support, we can rebuild our future. 🙏🏻🫂💙
We thank God, and then we thank you for your help and support during this difficult journey.
Best regards,
Shahad Dahlan & Hassan Al-Badrsawi🫶🏻
My little girl is suffering from a lack of nutrition and dehydration😭😭, please help me save my baby before it's too late
My Compaign link
https://www.gofundme.com/f/save-ibrahim-family
Please Reblog my pin post and Donate
Thanks
Unfortunately I can’t share due to my financial situation, but I can share
🇵🇸🇵🇸To all Palestine supporters 🇵🇸🇵🇸
We need less than 405€ to reach our short term goal of 25k€‼️
Your donations are important to us and we appreciate them no matter what🙏
We need you more than ever😭
Please help me reach our goal as soon as possible 🙏
🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
Unfortunately I can’t share due to my financial situation, but I can share
So basically I was logged out of my old account on c.ai due to me getting a new phone. There was nothing worth saving, so I to start another using my backup email, and I get as far as the image below. A link is liteRALLY NEVER FUCKING SENT. I can’t tell if this is some weird glitch on my end or not. Anyone AT ALL know what to do??
Hello, I hope my message finds you well Can you help me amplify my desperate plea to survive? I wish everyone who can support my family with $5, $10 or any amount they can donate or at least reblog My pinned blog 🙏🏻
My family needs you and depends on you to survive 🍉🍉
Thanks a lot 🌹🌹
Free Palestine
🚨🚨 Hello dear friends 🚨🚨
My name is Bilal, a son of Gaza that has suffered and continues to suffer from long years of siege and war. After 150 days of bombing and destruction, I was forced to leave my homeland and move to Egypt with some of my family members. It was a journey full of challenges, not only because of the difficult circumstances we left behind, but also because of the high costs we paid to escape the hell of war.
In Egypt, we live amidst other difficulties, where the cost of living is high and living away from home is not easy. But despite everything, our hearts are still attached to our loved ones and family who remained in Gaza, under siege and harsh conditions. We follow the news and we are pained by every new story of destruction.
During this long journey, my first Tumblr account was suspended, which is this account https://www.tumblr.com/shadowyavenuetaco?source=share where I used to share my story and the stories of those living in Gaza. But I didn't give up, and I started again, trying to make my voice and the voice of those who remained under siege heard.
If my story touches your heart and you want to support, your donation 🚨 can make a huge difference in our lives and help us face these difficult circumstances. You can contribute through the donation link here: https://gofund.me/ba5b76e9
I can’t donate, but I can share :)
Yes. Much better.
Edit: I FOUND THE PIC THAT GOES WITH IT AJDHFLSJAGAKD
Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N
Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.
A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.
It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.
You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.
The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.
“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.
“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.
“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.
The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”
“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.
“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.
“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”
“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”
“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”
“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”
“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.
“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”
You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”
Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”
The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”
You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”
Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”
The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.
“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,
“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.
“Oh, you have?”
You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”
“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”
“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”
He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”
“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.
“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”
You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.
You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.
“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”
“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”
Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”
You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”
The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”
Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.
You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?
The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”
You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.
Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”
You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”
Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”
You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you.
The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”
Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”
You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.”
Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.
The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”
You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”
Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”
The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”
As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.
“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.
You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”
He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”
“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”
Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”
You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”
He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”
“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.
Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”
You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”
He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”
You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”
“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”
“Eight it is."
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EATS THIS EATS THIS EATS THIS EATS THIS EATS THI
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prelude
“ask for forgiveness,
never permission.”
Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie
tags: acid rain wound, cannibals living their best lives in cannibal town, slow burn eventual: smut, violence, toxic themes
word count: 1.7k
hello world! i currently have alastor brain rot and felt compelled to jump back into writing fan fiction. i’m a little rusty and i’m not sure how many parts there will be; i won’t deny that this is purely self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy all the same :)
prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two
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Hell wasn’t what you had expected it to be. It was worse.
Thoughts of your grandmother rose to your mind, despite how desperately you tried to push them down. “Hell is the absence of God,” she would always say after one of her famous rants. A warning you perhaps would have heeded, had it been coming from a place of love instead of moral superiority.
You had seen her on the streets of Hell a few times now, always sure to avoid catching her attention. The warm pleasure that bloomed in your chest was too precious to give up, despite knowing how good it would feel to rub her fate in her face. A lot of good all those Sunday mornings had done her, haughty bitch! You wondered how often your grandmother laid awake at night, desperate to know how she had ended up here. A wicked grin spread across your lips, revealing milky-pink fangs.
It was hard not to imagine the look your father would have given you if you could tell him she was here. He would definitely have scolded you, but you knew a small part of him would be amused. If calling her a bad grandmother was putting it lightly, she was an even worse mother-in-law. Hopefully you would never get the chance to tell him; Mother was waiting for him in Heaven, after all. And things should be much easier for him now, all things considered. Leaving him alone hadn’t been part of the plan, so all you could do was tell yourself that it had been worth it. Someday you would believe it.
Grandmother was right though, loathe as you were to admit it, and the feeling of loss burned through you every morning when you awoke. Every night, you dreamed of rain; the sound of it, the smell of it, the feeling of it coming down on you in the middle of the family garden. Oh, how you missed the garden. The dark, wet dirt. Blue puffs of hydrangea against stark-white azaleas, your mother’s coveted yellow roses. The Spanish Moss hanging like phantom sails off the branches of the huge oak tree in the corner, where your father had placed a bench and made a small pond. You would sit under that tree for hours lost in a book, listening to the sounds of the garden.
The fire and brimstone you could endure. It was the way everything else was twisted here that was grueling. As if feeling your lament, a drop of acid rain hit your window, quickly morphing into a full-blown storm. A frustrated growl erupted from you and you rolled onto your stomach, burying your head under your pillow and said a silent prayer to whatever force would grant mercy on your roof. You couldn’t afford to get it fixed again. The prayer had been answered just a moment after the rain stopped, when a drop of it fell from the ceiling and onto your pale, unsuspecting calf, your mattress absorbing the scream of pain that tore through your chest.
As the acid made its way through your leg, and eventually your mattress, all you could do was sob. Eternity… This was eternity.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
If this morning had been good, the day could only now be considered grand.
There was really nothing quite like a post-rain stroll through Cannibal Town, witnessing the misfortune of partially-dissolved sinners who had been caught in the deluge being consumed on the streets by the lively, ever-hungry inhabitants. Alastor would never tire of this jovial bunch that called this part of the Pentagram home, reveling in the sound of screams, the crunching of bone, the almost-lewd and animalistic grunts of feasting.
Were Rosie not expecting him for tea, he might have allowed himself to join in on the fun. Alas, his only solace was that Rosie never served anything less than superb, being the excellent hostess that she is.
He was quite intrigued by her invitation to join her alone, which meant that this likely wasn’t anything to do with donating a small army of cannibals to aid in the fight against the Angels. Indeed, Charlie’s presence would be required once it was time to cash that favor in.
Not that he didn’t enjoy a casual visit (as casual a visit between Overlords could be), he couldn’t help but wonder. Thinking a few steps ahead was a must if one was going to thrive in Hell, and well, it was no secret that Alastor was doing a pretty fine job at that, all things considered. He began to whistle, earning a few gory smiles from cannibals who stopped mid-meal to enjoy the tune. A true honor.
Rosie opened the door for him before he even had the chance to knock, the “Closed for Rain” sign clattering against the glass as she cooed. “Alastorrr! Come in, come in, before it starts raining again.”
As if on queue, a roll of thunder tore through the clouds, drawing a cheer from the denizens of Cannibal Town in anticipation for round two.
“Rosie, my dear, always an honor and a privilege to be deemed worthy of your company,” Alastor said, bowing his head as Rosie feigned a blush, leading him to the parlor where they would be taking their tea.
The usual pleasantries were exchanged between sips of tea, coffee, and candied organs, which Alastor forced himself to consume through sheer courtesy. It was all part of the art of visiting, one he quite enjoyed, and he would never shame his mother’s memory with bad manners. They had just finished a plate of finger sandwiches when Rosie leaned in slightly, the conspiring grin on her face letting him know that it was, at last, time for business.
“You’re always so good to indulge me, Alastor. It doesn’t go unnoticed,” she said, grinning as she motioned to a maid to come grab their empty plates. “I’m sure you’ve been dying to know why I asked you over here this afternoon.”
“Oh, Rosie, it’s purely selfish! You know how hard it is to find good company in this godforsaken place. I’m more than grateful to receive your hospitality,” he said with a trademark smile and flick of the wrist, leaning back in his chair as the maid cleared the table.
She had just turned to leave with their plates when the smile on his face nearly faltered. Was that… almond he smelled? It had been so long, but he was fairly certain it was. There was an underlying trace of blood, though that was common enough around here. But almond? It was too pleasant for Hell.
Rosie’s eyes darkened to match her grin, not missing the twitch of Alastor’s mouth. She knew he’d have been able to smell it. It seemed that so far only Hellborn could pick it up, but what would be the fun in letting him know that?
“Divine, isn’t she? A walking pastry, but not much of a talker. I like to bring her around whenever a room needs some pizzazz! She would’ve been eaten alive had I not taken her in,” Rosie whispered cheekily, as the maid returned with a fresh kettle and a gelatin mold for dessert. Rosie, not missing a beat once the tray had been set down, turned to her with a smile. “Thank you dear, you can leave now. I’ll ring the bell if we need anything else.”
The maid gave a silent curtsy and left the room as instructed, her sweet scent clinging to the air. Since coming to Hell, he took pleasure in the taste of bloody iron, the bite of black coffee. But in life… Memories of marzipan and frangipane tarts swam in his mind. And hadn’t Mother used almonds in her cherry pie crust? It took Alastor all he had not to drool, unsettled by the sudden rush of saliva in his mouth. Ages had passed since he last thought of such sweet things. He cleared his throat with as much grace as he could muster. Rosie only grinned.
“Well, she’s certainly new, so I suppose it’s not surprising she doesn’t talk much. It’s quite easy to tell when a sinner is… adjusting. So morose! You’re very gracious to have taken her on.” Alastor took a sip of coffee, desperate to get that almond smell out of his nostrils.
“We both seem to be rather gracious these days, don’t you think?”
And there it was.
Rosie sat back in her chair and crossed her legs as she continued. “I was actually wondering if perhaps she might fare better in that hotel you’re running. Don’t get me wrong, she smells incredible, but fuck does she suck the air out of a room once the novelty wears off. She was scaring away clients, and you know it’s pretty bad if cannibals are uneasy around you for Christ’s sake, which is why I had her start working back here, but…”
Alastor had to resist gripping his knee, putting all his effort into maintaining a pleasant face. He had expected to be asked for a favor of sorts, but never did he imagine that Rosie wanted him to take on an employee. She’s had sinners sign contracts for little less than a new parasol, let alone a job. There was something more to this.
And beyond being an air freshener, what good was she for, really? He could deal with quiet, but to have to put up with yet another sulky face! What he had done to deserve it, he didn’t know.
But he knew there wasn’t really a choice other than to take the poor creature into his charge. Rosie was an alley he deeply cherished, and he was already in her debt for the help she had provided just weeks ago. This was no doubt the first part of paying that debt back, a sign of goodwill. Not every deal was beneficial from the start; still, Alastor wouldn’t outright accept the offer. That was part of the fun.
“Well we already have a maid,” Alastor said gently, “but after the recent renovation, we are anticipating more sinners to check in. Not that I doubt Niffty’s abilities, but I suppose she could do with some help when business picks up. How long were you thinking of lending her to our cause?”
Rosie waved her hand. “Lend? Oh, honey, if you’re willing to take her, she’s yours. I’ve got plenty of helping hands, but it does me no good to have such a wet blanket hanging around. There’s just the matter of…,” Rosie trailed off as she reached into her purse, retrieving what Alastor already knew she had been grabbing for, “…her contract.”
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Hello this is me Aya.. 🇵🇸
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They call me the Concrete Eater19✨ They/them lesbian ✨Fictional men enthusiast
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